Chapter 70: Sylvia

“Papal Palace.”

Gazing at the dozen or so white spires piercing the sky in the distance, Luo Xiya silently recited the words in her heart.

After Luo Xiya followed the Aingloran Empire’s delegation into the Holy City, she suddenly caught a whiff of floral fragrance all around her.

On both sides of the road stood many veiled women, each holding a flowerpot and occasionally tossing petals into the air.

Somewhere, a band played the Cathedral’s most sacred symphony on ancient instruments, the melody grand and stirring.

Most of the people around were drawn in by this romantically charged scene.

Luo Xiya’s gaze, too, was drawn over.

But not by the flower maidens or the source of the music, rather by the distant gate carved with a cross motif, surrounded by guardian emblems resembling archangels.

That was the residence of the Pope, the earthly representative of God.

According to the usual ceremonial process, the various delegations would now take turns to pay respects to the Holy Throne, receiving the blessing and words of the Crown of the Pope.

Following the orderly procession, Luo Xiya walked steadily through the gates of the Papal Palace.

Upon entering the main hall, she saw that the walls and floors were paved entirely with white marble, and scarlet banners hung from above, each emblazoned with the Holy Light Church’s Family Crest—sacred and solemn.

The murals depicted the same scenes found in every Cathedral sanctum: Fara the Creator, bestowing the four corners of the world.

The beautiful Goddess Fara hovered in the center, adored by the people of all lands, granting them the right and power to survive upon the earth.

As for the two side walls, portraits of all the previous Popes were displayed.

In Luo Xiya’s eyes, perhaps not all of them were beauties—some were even plain or homely—but their common trait was obvious: not the sacred staff in their hands, nor the holy robes they wore.

But the kind expressions they all bore, faces full of compassion for the world and empathy for all living beings.

Finally, she arrived at the end of the main hall, where a half-opened door stood.

Walking through that door, she would once again witness, with her own eyes, the most powerful and influential person on the continent—the Pope of the Holy Light Church, Sylvia.

At this moment, even Luo Xiya found her breath quickening, excitement surging uncontrollably in her chest.

At the same time, as she moved deeper into the main hall, the sound of the organ grew ever more intense, surging like a tide.

Accompanied by her pounding heart, Luo Xiya strode right past Grand Duke Veronica, her steps sharp as she entered through the door.

Yet, the people around her did not find Luo Xiya’s behavior abrupt.

They all recognized the girl who was as beautiful as a blooming flower and as sharp as a blade.

In this world, nobles always held priority, and Luo Xiya—noble among nobles, genius among geniuses—was admired by all, and they made way for her without hesitation.

As her black high-heeled boots struck the floor, Luo Xiya’s black cloak flared, revealing the crimson lining within—dazzling to the eye and exuding an imposing aura.

Veronica followed silently behind her daughter, saying nothing.

Some observant individuals also noticed that the flag beside Luo Xiya bore not the Emblem of the Aingloran Empire, nor that of the Kailden Duchy, but rather the Emblem of the Lily Territory belonging to the Lily Countess herself.

Those with sharper minds realized: Duchess Kelden was finally preparing to formally promote her own daughter, with no small amount of ambition.

At last, stepping through the door, Luo Xiya lifted her head slightly, gazing toward the center of the hall.

At that moment, Luo Xiya suddenly felt as if her heart had been seized.

Her eyes widened, cold sweat broke out all over her body.

Unable to help herself, she lowered her head.

Her pride, at this instant, was thoroughly trampled underfoot by the other party.

Reaching her designated spot, Luo Xiya slowly came to a halt, placed both hands over her chest, and greeted with the most formal etiquette: “Fara above, Your Holiness, I am Luo Xiya Kelden, from the Aingloran Empire’s Lily Territory.”

She had originally wanted to see what the current Pope looked like, but at this very moment, she didn’t even have the courage to raise her head.

“I remember your name.”

At last, she heard a reply, a calm yet commanding voice.

“So it’s you, that little girl. So many years have passed, I didn’t expect you to have grown so much.”

“Thank you for your concern, Your Holiness.”

“Raise your head.”

Hearing these words, Luo Xiya cautiously lifted her head, her gaze rising to look up at the woman sitting at the very center of the Papal Palace.

Her eyes, her spirit, even her very soul, were drawn to the person before her.

Clad in the highest-ranking platinum holy robes of the Church, the woman gazed at her with a lazy demeanor.

That indifferent gaze, that detached expression, instantly reminded Luo Xiya of the descriptions of Goddess Fara’s appearance in the scriptures.

This time, she didn’t even feel any urge to resist.

The woman before her was, without doubt, the most beautiful face she had ever seen.

The other’s lofty gaze made her feel like a lazy lioness regarding a harmless white rabbit.

And yet, as soon as that thought arose, Luo Xiya dismissed it.

No, not quite right.

Because she suddenly recalled the image of Roman smiling at her from the heart, that gentle, flawless face blooming with a dreamy smile—a smile that belonged to her alone.

Warmth coursed through her limbs, leaving her both touched and moved.

The negative emotions that had just risen within Luo Xiya were barely suppressed in that instant.

After all, for Luo Xiya, not even the Pope before her—or even Fara herself—could ever surpass the heartfelt smile Roman had given her.

Her pride returned to her body at that moment.

Meeting the gaze of the continent’s most powerful Sanctuary-level transcendent, Luo Xiya finally began to speak calmly and confidently, casting aside all her previous unease and fear.

It wasn’t until she left that Luo Xiya realized she had actually greeted and conversed with the Pope as if it were any ordinary day.

And after Luo Xiya left the hall, Sylvia’s usually solemn expression suddenly broke into a smile.

She turned and teased behind her, “Milis, it seems your assessment of her was far too subjective.”

If Luo Xiya were still there, she would surely have been shocked to see Milis’s familiar figure step out from behind the Pope.

As always, Milis’s bangs covered her left eye.

She curled her lips, her expression a mix of disdain and disbelief.

In Milis’s descriptions, Luo Xiya was someone with decent talent, but also a person who liked to think with her lower body, acting wild and unrestrained.

Yet under the Pope’s deliberate pressure, this girl—who wasn’t even a Sanctuary-level transcendent—had not only withstood it, but had even managed to converse with the Pope as if nothing were amiss.

As always, it’s a pity Milis’s Sacred Seal isn’t related to reading minds, or else, if she could have read the source of Luo Xiya’s courage just now, she would have been rendered utterly speechless.