Luo Xiya silently wiped the brand-new weapon, feeling a strange flutter in her heart from time to time.
Pitch-black through and through, the blade occasionally glimmered with crimson light.
After several trials, she could clearly sense that most of its mysterious power had already been depleted.
But in the end, she still chose it without hesitation—or perhaps as if led by some invisible force.
She didn’t even know, like Sylvia did, that this sword was forged from the bones of a Time-Space Dragon. In a certain sense, it could even rival Sylvia’s Saint Sword.
However, Sylvia was not omniscient or omnipotent.
If she had known the true origin of this sword, she probably wouldn’t have allowed Luo Xiya to take it away.
As for Luo Xiya herself, she didn’t think about it further.
From just now until now, her mind was in a daze, thinking about the promise between her and Sylvia.
Three years.
Neither too short nor too long, but at this moment, it felt unbearably heavy in her heart, like a mountain pressing down, making it hard to breathe.
“Sigh.”
Sitting on a tree branch, gazing at the distant Papal Palace, Luo Xiya felt inexplicably lost.
She and Roman were only a few hundred steps apart, yet the distance between them felt like an unbridgeable chasm.
Her mother had already left first, and she carried the Transmission Mark given to her by her aunt, so there was no need to travel back together.
So she stayed behind.
Even if they couldn’t meet face to face, she wanted to be a little closer to Roman.
Sigh…
She didn’t know how long she’d been lost in thought.
Returning to herself, Luo Xiya closed her eyes, trying to force herself to muster some spirit with her own Sacred Seal.
Magic circuits flowed slowly through her body.
Luo Xiya didn’t notice that at this moment, the Black Sword in her hand was subtly changing.
Visibly, the crimson glow on its surface became clearer and more vivid.
At the same time, a barely perceptible sound echoed in her heart.
“Mm…”
Luo Xiya opened her eyes in surprise.
Who?
***
“Night Owl, since you’ve returned, I’ll give you your first task.”
Standing in front of Bianca, Sylvia spoke.
“Order me as you wish.”
Bianca replied in a crisp, nightingale-like voice.
“Follow me for now.”
Sylvia sensed Roman’s position and suddenly raised her brow.
In her perception, Luo Xiya and Milis were currently in the same room, doing who knows what.
Inside the room.
Roman’s slender fingers pulled up the ring of the stocking, dragging it to his thigh, feeling the cool, slippery sensation of flesh being wrapped, and sighed with relief, narrowing his eyes.
He stood up again.
His clothes were no longer as shameful and humiliating as before—exposed shoulders, collarbones, thighs, and all—accentuated by unique designs.
Perhaps the goddess really is a pervert… Roman thought.
Fortunately, he finally changed into a conservative Sacred Robe, with the collar wrapped down to below the thigh, so only his calves were visible.
The secure, modest outfit made Roman feel comfortable.
But just then, a pair of fair, slender hands rested on his shoulders.
“From now on, you’re only allowed to dress like this.”
Milis said, lowering her head.
Roman listened to her commanding and matter-of-fact tone and snorted lightly.
“Why should I listen to you?”
“Isn’t it natural, considering your current identity?”
Milis replied, running her fingers through Roman’s silver hair.
At that, Roman finally stiffened, standing up and pushing Milis’ hand away.
“You seem to be mistaken about something.”
“I’ve never belonged to you. Not before, and especially not now. At most, we’re just close collaborators.”
Roman said seriously.
“If you want, I can spare some time to help you adjust your body and clear up some hidden illnesses, but—”
Roman unconsciously took a step back.
“You have no right to touch me at will.”
The faint smile on Milis’ face faded.
“You really are a little fool.”
She leaned closer to Roman’s ear and spoke helplessly.
“You took mother’s three-year limit seriously?”
Pressing Roman’s chest, Milis mercilessly exposed the ridiculous agreement.
“Even for me, it’s impossible to reach the Sanctuary within three years. By my calculations, it will take at least five years.”
“I have to admit, she’s indeed a strong combatant, but in terms of pure talent, she’s far inferior to me.”
“I’m really curious where she found the courage to accept mother’s conditions.”
Roman slapped Milis’ hand away with a cold snort.
“Frog at the bottom of a well.”
Truthfully, he felt uncertain inside.
But he knew that in a situation of weakness, the more one appeared vulnerable, the more the other party would step over you.
So he absolutely couldn’t show any sign of fear in front of Milis.
What he didn’t know was that people like Milis, who grew up in twisted environments, were inherently extreme and willful.
And despite her many flaws, she possessed the world’s most powerful extraordinary talent.
Even under Lady Catherine’s guidance and discipline, at least on the surface, Milis now showed the demeanor of a well-behaved child and the dignity of a Saintess.
But at her core, nothing had changed.
Simply put, the more someone resisted her, the more excited she became, and the more she wanted to possess them.
In other words, she liked wild horses.
She enjoyed the cat-and-mouse game, watching Roman like a contented Persian Cat.
As the two faced off, a ‘bang bang’ knock suddenly sounded at the door.
The big cat paused, her playful expression vanishing instantly.
She opened the door.
As expected, Sylvia stood outside.
“Mother.”
Milis pressed her hands to her chest and bowed respectfully.
“Mm… Milis, are you recovering well?”
Sylvia gently patted Milis’ head, concerned.
“Thanks to Roman’s help, I’ve almost fully recovered.”
Milis smiled.
Hearing Roman’s name, Sylvia glanced into the room.
Her gaze lingered on Roman’s conservative clothing for a few seconds.
“That’s good,” she said lightly.
“I have something to discuss with Roman. Can you leave for a moment?”
“Of course.”
Milis replied with an unreadable expression.
As she walked out, Milis glanced at Bianca behind Sylvia.
Her eyes paused on Bianca’s unseemly chest for a moment, then she turned and left.
Unfortunately, the Holy Throne didn’t know that the moment the door closed, Milis’ obedient and docile expression vanished instantly, replaced by a cold gaze as she looked back at the room.
Her dangerous eyes flickered.
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