Luo Xiya held the ‘Black Sword’ in both hands, her expression uncertain.
It couldn’t be wrong, that voice just now…
Though it was faint, almost inaudible, Luo Xiya was sure it wasn’t an illusion.
She looked at the Black Sword in her hand, and the reason it needed quotation marks was because its black surface had begun to show silvery-white cracks.
Her sharp mind quickly realized a shocking possibility.
Maybe, possibly, perhaps…it wasn’t really a Black Sword at all.
This layer of pure black seemed more like some kind of Sealing, and for some reason unknown, it was beginning to show signs of breaking.
Was it responding?
This puzzled her. It had shown no reaction even after being in the Papal Palace for hundreds or thousands of years, yet the moment it was in her hands, it began to unseal.
Could it be…
She tried to operate Mental Construction again, her Saint Domain-level spiritual power unconsciously flowing into it.
Under Luo Xiya’s gaze, the silvery-white cracks on the ‘Black Sword’ grew larger and more numerous.
As the black stone covering crumbled under its own weight, Luo Xiya finally saw its true form.
“Ah…”
With a gasp of astonishment, Luo Xiya cradled the newly revealed blade in her hands, her eyes filled with wonder and delight.
What a beautiful sword.
The silver-white blade was adorned with sky-blue patterns and carved with unknown runes, the effects of which she couldn’t discern.
Light and magnificent, Luo Xiya instinctively twirled it in her hand.
She had to admit, this sword matched her aesthetics perfectly, leaving her with nothing to criticize.
As she admired the intricate details, a clear voice suddenly echoed in her mind, nearly startling her off the tree.
“You are…”
Cool and tinged with fatigue, the voice finally sounded crystal clear to Luo Xiya.
***
“From now on, she will be responsible for your daily life and living arrangements here.”
Sylvia looked at Bianca, who was bowing respectfully at her side, and spoke to Roman.
This was something she had decided upon when promoting Bianca.
No particular reason—she simply knew too many secrets, including those concerning Roman and even herself.
So even after making Bianca one of the Twelve Apostles, she still decided to keep her within her sight at all times to prevent any accidents.
“Greetings, Saint Son.”
Bianca held her hands to her chest and knelt on both knees.
Roman looked at the woman at his feet, feeling a bit embarrassed.
This woman…is she really a Nun?
If so, isn’t she a bit too beautiful?
Well…maybe ‘beautiful’ was an exaggeration.
Roman gazed at Bianca’s pure eyes and gentle expression—her features were pure and her aura sacred.
But these very traits, combined with her voluptuous figure and lovely face, created a sense of forbidden beauty beneath the conservative Nunneries.
Golden hair slipped from beneath the black and white headscarf, and Roman’s gaze drifted downward.
Her entire body was wrapped tightly in the Nunneries, with taut folds everywhere—especially her shapely hips, which formed an alluring curve as she knelt in worship, the creases in the center especially eye-catching.
Then, as Roman stared in a daze, Bianca lowered her head toward his feet, and, holding them gently, placed a deep kiss on his smooth, jade-like toes.
A tingling warmth spread from his foot, and Roman, face burning, watched helplessly as his toes curled up.
He wanted to pull away, but it seemed rude—and might embarrass the Nun.
“I offer everything to you—body and soul alike.”
Clearly words of devotion unto death, but to Roman, they sounded oddly strange, to the point he didn’t even have time to resist Bianca’s action.
As if nothing had happened, Bianca elegantly brushed her golden hair behind her ear and lifted her head, her beautiful face as pure and holy as before.
When Bianca stood up, Roman’s previously downward gaze became one of upward awe.
This Sister appeared taller than Lady Catherine; if he maintained eye level, he would only be able to see her swelling, peach-shaped chest.
If he were any shorter, and she stood behind him, that snowy softness could rest right on his head.
Meeting Bianca’s emerald eyes, Roman suddenly found her familiar.
“You are—”
Just as Roman realized, Bianca responded calmly.
“Your Highness, you may call me Bianca from now on.”
“………….”
Roman narrowed his eyes slightly.
He could roughly guess who had informed Sylvia of his presence.
Bianca, however, showed no reaction and, after the ceremony, respectfully stood aside.
Sylvia stepped forward with a smile, originally intending to pat Roman’s head, but she caught the resistance and fear in his eyes.
So the hand she had just raised dropped naturally, and she sighed inwardly.
This was inevitable.
From the moment she brought Roman back to the Holy City, she had taken on the role of villain—separating him from Luo Xiya.
She just hadn’t expected Luo Xiya’s reaction to be so intense, and that she wouldn’t be silenced by her authority as expected.
Roman was the same—or perhaps his unwavering support at Luo Xiya’s side gave her courage.
Forcibly severing their bond…it was only natural he’d resent her.
All the favor she’d built up was wiped out, even sinking into the negatives.
The Holy Throne gave a bitter smile and, keeping her distance, explained softly to him.
“Were you startled by Sister Bianca’s actions?”
She chuckled lightly.
“Mm…”
To be honest, Roman felt it wasn’t so bad.
Last time, to save Annie, he let her hold his foot and do all kinds of things, licking and sucking, pouring her heart and soul into her service before him…
Compared to Bianca’s restrained act, Annie’s was much more intense, but the emotional impact Bianca left was even greater.
“This is a Ritual of the Goddess left behind long ago. Only those closest and most trusted perform this great rite, to show their total devotion in body and spirit.”
“….”
Roman fell silent again.
So, Lady Fara, you’re truly a hopeless pervert, aren’t you?
“In any case, from now on, unless necessary, Sister Bianca will stay by your side at all times—at your beck and call.”
After finishing, Sylvia hesitated, then waved a hand at Bianca.
“I have words to speak with the Saint Son. You may leave.”
“Yes.”
Bianca bowed and left naturally.
Clearing her throat, Sylvia prepared her speech as she had planned.