Heading south, Maierin and his group arrived at the rolling plains of southern Serbia.
Although the number of children under his care had increased, Maierin did not feel burdened. While guiding them in their studies and training, he also ditated to restore his own cosmos.
Whether it was due to his past life's mories or his cosmos' perception of Shura and Milo, he was certain that these two had exceptional talent. They were the best candidates to inherit the Capricorn and Scorpio Gold Saint titles.
Shura had a firm and resolute personality, with a sharp and ambitious cosmos—like a sword hidden beneath rust, waiting to be unsheathed. Milo, on the other hand, seed brash and prideful at first, but Maierin soon realized he was a mix of reason and emotion. He was deeply sentintal toward those he acknowledged, yet displayed great rationality when dealing with outsiders.
The two of them perfectly embodied the spirit of their respective Gold Saint symbols: Capricorn's "Will to Advance" and Scorpio's balance of "Rationality and Emotion."
Under Maierin's guidance and Kanon's training, both had already awakened their Sixth Sense—though they were still at the entry stage, it was an astonishing achievent. Many people went their entire lives without ever unlocking the Sixth Sense.
"My lord, is this the sealed site of the divine artifacts?" Kanon asked as they reached a lakeshore, already sensing a faint cosmos presence.
"Yes. Step back a little." Maierin instructed.
"Understood." Kanon and the others retreated.
Maierin extended his hand, and at once, the skies changed color. A broken yet majestic prism-like barrier revealed its true form. Under Maierin's guidance, the shimring fragnts of light—like children finding their lost parents—reunited with him and rged into his cosmos.
Suddenly, the lake's surface rippled, growing into a massive whirlpool. Two beams of light—one golden, one black—spiraled into the sky, piercing through the clouds.
Starlight illuminated the land. As the dazzling glow faded, two masks—one golden, one black—spun toward Maierin. Following them were several silver-white artifacts: a shield, chains, a crossbow…
"These are… the divine relics of Gemini and Dark Gemini!" Kanon's eyes burned with excitent as he stared at the black mask, feeling an intense longing—like reuniting with a long-lost family mber.
But the relics did not imdiately fly to Kanon or return to the Sanctuary. Instead, they circled around Maierin several tis, expressing emotions of joy, reverence, and even a hint of reproach.
"I'm sorry… I had no choice back then." Maierin soothed them, treating them like his own children—after all, he had personally forged these relics.
The artifacts seed to accept his apology and, one by one, transford into streaks of light, soaring toward the Sanctuary—they were eager to go ho.
The black mask, however, lingered by Kanon's side, floating around him as if examining its new master.
"My relic… the Mask of Darkness…"
Kanon, entranced, instinctively reached out to grab it—only for the mask to suddenly withdraw and smack his hand with its backside, making him yelp in pain.
"Ouch! What was that for?!"
The Mask of Darkness scrutinized Kanon again before seeming to sigh in resignation. It finally settled into his hands.
"Did I just… get rejected?" Kanon muttered in disbelief.
"Tch, are all relics this arrogant?" Deathmask grumbled. He had been mocked by the Cancer Claws before, and now Kanon had been rejected—did relics always have such high standards for their wielders?
Yet Kanon did not react with anger like Deathmask. Instead, he gently caressed the Mask of Darkness and murmured, "Sorry, partner. I know I'm not strong enough to wield you yet… but I promise I'll train hard until I am worthy."
The Mask of Darkness let out a soft hum in response.
Kanon then placed the mask over his face. His cloth box opened automatically, and piece by piece, the Dark Gemini Cloth adorned his body.
Without hesitation, Kanon sat cross-legged and began ditating.
"We'll set up camp here. Kanon will need a few days of training." Maierin announced. But when he turned to the others, he noticed Deathmask muttering, "Just wait… my turn will co too." anwhile, Aiolicus and Milo's eyes sparkled with longing, and even the usually stoic Shura's gaze burned with determination.
"Do you all want one?" Maierin asked with a smile.
"Yes!" Aiolicus and Milo nodded eagerly. Even though Shura remained silent, Maierin caught his subtle nod.
" too! But not because it looks cool! I just want to get my revenge on my relic!" Deathmask declared, his pride refusing to admit otherwise.
Maierin chuckled. "Well then, train hard. When you don your Cloth and beco Saints, you'll receive your own partner."
Hearing this, Deathmask, Milo, and Shura all nodded determinedly, promising to train diligently. Only Aiolicus lowered his head, looking disheartened.
"Aiolicus." Maierin knelt before him, ruffling his hair.
"Uncle… I can't be a Saint…" Aiolicus' eyes glistened with unshed tears.
He had already learned that Mutants could not beco Saints. Though he had accepted this reality, the disappointnt still weighed on him.
"It's okay, Aiolicus. When you grow stronger—strong enough to rival Kanon and the others—I'll craft a divine relic just for you." Maierin reassured.
"Really?" Aiolicus' eyes lit up.
"Of course." Maierin promised.
Creating artifacts was not difficult. Orichalcum, though mysterious, was rely a tal catalyzed under high concentrations of cosmos. Once Maierin regained his Eighth Sense, he could forge it again—the only requirent was ti for refinent.
Besides, the Jamir tribe, who lived in the Pamir Mountains, had been repairing Cloths for generations. Their stockpile of Orichalcum was likely still abundant.
Forging relics was not the challenge—finding suitable wielders was.
Every Orichalcum creation bore the traits of the cosmos that refined it. For example, Maierin and Athena's cosmos radiated warmth and hope, so their relics carried those properties. anwhile, Hades' cosmos exuded death, which was why only the dead could wear Surplices.
As for Aiolicus' inability to wield cosmos…
There was still ti. Maierin was confident that his intellect would find a solution—perhaps even breaking the tradition that only Saints could use relics. Expanding their forces in this way would greatly strengthen their side.
At the sa ti, in the Sanctuary…
Shion and Alex watched as streaks of light descended from the sky.
"The relics have returned. The Sanctuary's strength grows once more."
"The restoration of our forr glory is within reach."
"And what of the new Saints?"
Shion's primary concern was the ergence of new warriors. No matter how many relics they had, they were useless without Saints to wield them…
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