"…My na is Myrin, from the Greek Sanctuary. You may also call … 'Father Earth.'" Myrin reintroduced himself.
"The Greek Sanctuary… The Greek Sanctuary… The Greek Sanctuary! You're saying you co from the Greek Sanctuary!?" Matilda's eyes widened in disbelief at what she had just heard.
"Oh? It seems you've heard of the Greek Sanctuary." Myrin's interest was piqued. The Sanctuary had been secluded for over two centuries—aside from the locals in Athens, even people from other Greek cities knew very little about it, let alone those from other countries.
"Yes, when I worked under Sebastian Shaw, I once overheard sothing. The Führer of Germany never dared to invade Greece because of so unknown force protecting the country. No matter how large the army, they could not step a foot inside, making Greece the only untouched land on the European battlefield.
As two of the Führer's most esteed research organizations, both Sebastian Shaw's faction and Hydra were deeply interested in Greek legends, including ntions of the 'Sanctuary' and sothing about 'Holy Warriors.' But beyond that, I don't know much—especially anything about a so-called 'Father Earth.'"
As she spoke, Matilda's gaze turned toward Myrin once again, filled with skepticism and vigilance.
"Heh, as expected. Those guys really did a thorough job of erasing my traces," Myrin muttered, a hint of self-mockery in his tone.
"So, you're saying…"
"I am indeed from the Sanctuary. And Garon here is the current Silver Saint of the Dark Son constellation—one of those so-called 'Holy Warriors' you ntioned. Disma is a candidate I recruited for the Saints, and Camus—"
"You're going to tell Camus is also a Saint candidate?" Matilda interjected.
"That's correct."
"I don't believe you."
"Sigh, I suppose seeing is believing." Myrin gave up on verbal persuasion and decided on a more direct approach.
Turning to Garon, he asked, "Garon, can you use telekinesis and teleportation to carry people?"
Once a person awakened their Sixth Sense, they gained supernatural abilities such as elental control, foresight, telekinesis, flight, illusion-casting, mind reading, ntal manipulation, and heightened intuition. Garon had already awakened his Seventh Sense—though only a Silver Saint, he had mastered techniques like Light-Speed Punch and superluminal flight, which were standard for Gold Saints. The only question was his proficiency.
The reason Myrin asked about telekinesis and teleportation rather than superluminal flight was simple—Matilda and her family were ordinary humans; they wouldn't survive traveling at the speed of light.
"Yes, my lord," Garon nodded.
"Take them to the Sanctuary. I believe Shion will be able to convince them." Myrin realized that persuasion wasn't his strong suit, so he preferred to leave such tasks to the experts.
"Yes, my lord," Garon replied, walking toward the inner room.
"Wait, what are you doing?"
"Don't hurt my parents!"
Matilda panicked, and even Camus' surroundings began to emit a chilling aura.
However, Garon was unfazed. He entered the room, effortlessly lifted Brand onto his shoulder, placed a hand on Camus' head, and gave Matilda a nod. A golden light enveloped them, and in the next mont, they vanished.
"They disappeared? That was teleportation?" Disma stared in astonishnt. He had studied the theories, but seeing it in action was an entirely different level of shock.
"Yes."
"That's so cool! I want to learn it too!" Disma exclaid.
"Then you'd better work hard. You can only learn it after awakening your Sixth Sense," Myrin encouraged. Though Disma had shown so positive changes in his personality, his laziness remained a troubleso habit.
"Uh… Hehe, I get it! I'll train hard!" Disma scratched his head awkwardly.
"Heh, keep it up." Myrin playfully tapped Disma's forehead.
anwhile, Matilda and Camus had instinctively shut their eyes against the blinding light. The mont the brightness faded and they reopened their eyes, they found themselves in an entirely unfamiliar place.
"Where… is this?" Matilda asked instinctively.
"The Sanctuary," Garon replied.
"You an… we're already at the Sanctuary?"
"Yes."
"T-That's…" Matilda was about to say, "That's impossible," but her peripheral vision caught a flash of blue. Turning her head, she froze. There was no greater proof than the sight before her—white cityscapes and a vast, endless blue sea. They were undeniably in Athens.
Just then, a golden beam of light descended from the sky, and a figure erged from it.
"Garon? Why are you back? Where's the Lord? And who are these people?"
"Yo, Aiolia, long ti no see. The Lord sent to bring them here. This child…" Garon briefly explained Matilda's family situation.
"I see." Aiolia nodded.
"Who are you?" Matilda instinctively pulled Camus closer upon seeing the golden-armored warrior approach.
"I am Aiolia, the Gold Saint of the Leo constellation. Since this is the Lord's command, please follow . I will take you to see His Holiness, the Pope."
"Leo… Gold Saint… the Pope…" Matilda's mind reeled at the unfamiliar terms.
"Also, take care of this man," Garon said, handing Brand over to Aiolia. "The Lord is waiting for my report."
"Understood." Aiolia gave Garon a slightly exasperated look but accepted the responsibility—after all, Myrin's safety was the top priority.
Garon flashed an awkward smile before disappearing again. He really couldn't handle Aiolia's gaze.
"Please follow ," Aiolia instructed.
"…Fine." Matilda hesitated but ultimately agreed. Her husband was still in their hands, and judging from their strange abilities, resistance was futile. She might as well et their leader and gather more information.
Besides, she was curious—Aiolia looked about the sa age as Camus, yet he was called a Gold Saint. Though she didn't understand the ranking system, Myrin had introduced Garon as a Silver Saint, and since Gold ranked above Silver, that ant this young boy was stronger than Garon?
"Why are you staring at ?" Aiolia, still young and inexperienced, felt his face flush under Matilda's scrutiny.
"May I ask how old you are?" Matilda inquired.
"I'm seven years old."
"What? You're the sa age as Camus?" Matilda was astonished. Though she had suspected as much, hearing it confird still shocked her.
Aiolia said nothing but cast a glance at the ever-stoic Camus.
"Is there a problem?" Aiolia asked.
"You're so young… yet already a warrior…"
"It is my duty and my destiny. My brother, Saga, and Garon—we were all orphans taken in by His Holiness and raised in the Sanctuary. He taught us everything. We admire him greatly. As one of the last three survivors of the previous Holy War, he has protected this place for over two hundred years, safeguarding the world's love and hope.
I am honored to be a Saint, and I am always prepared to sacrifice myself for this cause."
Matilda sighed inwardly—he was still just a child. It had been far too easy to extract information from him. His words contained unfamiliar terms: his brother, the 'Holy War,' 'protecting love and hope,' and 'survivors.'
But that was fine—Matilda planned to keep prying. Not out of malice, but because this might beco her family's new ho. The more she knew, the better.
"Little one, is your brother also a Saint?"
"Yes, my brother is the Sagittarius Gold Saint. Saga is the Gemini Gold Saint and also Garon's twin."
"And what exactly is the Holy War?"
"The Holy War is…"
As they walked, Matilda learned more and more, and with each revelation, her shock deepened. She didn't doubt Aiolia's words—she considered herself a good judge of character, and his eyes radiated sincerity.
Of course, there was a possibility that Aiolia had been brainwashed since childhood to believe these things, but if what he said was true, then the Saints were indeed worthy of admiration. Centuries of silent protection had allowed human civilization to flourish.
Yet as a scientist, Matilda was reluctant to believe in gods.
"We've arrived. Please wait here. I will report to His Holiness. Do not leave this room."
After placing Brand down, Aiolia vanished, leaving Matilda and Camus montarily stunned.
"Mom, do you think everything he said is true?" Camus asked.
"I don't know…" Matilda shook her head. But she noticed sothing new in Camus' usually cold eyes—a spark of excitent.
"What is it, dear?"
"I want to—"
Although he didn't finish, Matilda understood. He had developed a fascination with the Saints.
"Darling, even if it's all true, I don't want you to beco a Saint. It's too dangerous."
"But Mom, Aiolia is my age, yet he's already the strongest Gold Saint. If he isn't afraid, then I'm not either. I want to be stronger—to protect you and Dad."
"Thank you, dear." Matilda gently stroked Camus' head.
Not long after, Aiolia returned.
"His Holiness has agreed to see you. Please follow ."
"Alright, thank you."
Whether they would stay in the Sanctuary or whether Camus would beco a Saint—Matilda had a feeling that all her answers lay ahead.
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