A few days later, Garon erged from deep ditation, imdiately clenching his fists to feel the power he had gained.
"I've finally caught up with my big brother and Aiolos," Garon murmured, his heart filled with excitent.
"Garon."
"My lord." Hearing Maierin's voice from behind, Garon instantly turned around and knelt on one knee, removing his Dark Mask.
"Not bad, but if you want to surpass Aiolos and Saga, you'll have to keep working hard," Maierin said with a smile.
"No way? I'm already at the interdiate level of the Seventh Sense. It won't be long before I reach the advanced stage. Even without a divine artifact… divine artifact…"
"Figured it out?"
"Ahaha, I forgot that my big brother and Aiolos also have divine artifacts," Garon admitted awkwardly. Just as he was feeling proud of his newfound power, he realized his oversight. However, when he thought of his good friend Aiolia, his confidence surged again. "But Aiolia! He can't beat now!"
"What's there to brag about? Don't forget, Aiolia is eight years younger than you," Maierin chuckled, shaking his head.
"Uh… my lord…" Garon looked aggrieved.
"Keep working hard, Garon. Even in the age of myths, Aiolia's talent is among the best. Be careful—if you're not diligent, he might surpass you before you know it."
Garon's strength had indeed improved significantly, but Maierin's expectations were much higher. In this chaotic and dangerous world, without power beyond the Eighth Sense, even self-preservation was uncertain. He didn't want Garon to beco complacent just because of a small improvent.
"Yes, my lord! I will train hard, surpass my brother and Aiolos, and beco the strongest Saint Seiya!" Garon's once-flippant gaze beca resolute once more.
"Good, I'll be waiting. You're my guardian—don't embarrass ," Maierin encouraged.
"Yes!" Garon felt like he was about to soar into the sky. This recognition ant that Maierin had fully acknowledged him as his personal guardian, a role of utmost trust. How could he not be thrilled?
"And what about ? Boss, I'm your closest little brother too!" Deathmask protested.
"Haha, you? Let's talk when you've earned your Cloth," Maierin teased, tapping Deathmask's forehead.
"Tch, it's just a Cloth! I'll get one soon!" Deathmask huffed arrogantly.
To Maierin, all the Saints were like children—there was no "most trusted" among them; he trusted them all.
While the previous generation of Saints had seen betrayal and moral corruption due to Saga's fall into darkness, Maierin's presence had changed everything. The Saints, trained from a young age, had undergone fundantal transformations in their character and values.
There was no longer any concern about traitors erging among the Saints.
Milo and Shura, too, were deeply inspired and vowed to train diligently in gratitude for Maierin's guidance. Though Erik couldn't beco a Saint, he no longer felt disheartened.
At first, learning that he couldn't be a Saint had made Erik feel like an outsider. However, with Maierin's encouragent, he had co to accept it. He believed Maierin's words—that if he fully developed his supernatural abilities, he would be just as strong as a Gold Saint and would be able to aid Maierin in his own way.
The group rested for a day by a lakeside before resuming their journey. They had reached the farthest edge of Europe and now needed to turn back toward the Yellow Cross Nation.
After nearly a month of travel, they had crossed the entire European continent. Maierin had even bought a car, taking the five young warriors on a road trip.
When passing through Germany, previous encounters had ensured a smooth journey—Hitler himself had given them a free pass, allowing them to travel without scrutiny. Of course, not everyone was so perceptive. HYDRA, led by Schmidt, that madman who considered himself a god, had sent countless operatives to hinder them.
Ambushes, assassinations, poison—all manner of underhanded tactics were used, but to no avail.
Had Maierin not been eager to witness Steve Rogers' legendary monts, he would have already stord HYDRA's base, dragged Schmidt out, and hung him from a tree as a lesson on what a true god was.
Upon entering the Yellow Cross Nation, Erik excitedly pointed outside.
"Uncle, look!"
Maierin followed Erik's gaze and smiled.
This country was peculiar. While much of Europe had fallen under Germany's iron rule—even its two neighboring Blue Cross Nations—this land had remained untouched by war. It was the second paradise of peace, alongside Greece.
Untouched by war, its landscapes remained pristine. The rural fields of flowers waved in the breeze, greeting them under the warm and gentle sunlight.
"So beautiful!"
"Why isn't there war here?"
"Who knows? Maybe the Führer was moved by the flowers?"
"I prefer to think he got kicked in the head by a mule."
Maierin rely smiled. This country's neutrality was an illusion—it had mastered the art of survival. In reality, from the very start, it had aligned with Germany.
Initially, it provided tal resources. Now, it served as Germany's logistics hub.
Everything was done discreetly. And if discovered? The governnt would simply claim it was the independent actions of its citizens. What could anyone do?
However, these politics weren't Maierin's concern. What interested him was a patch of red in the center of a vast field of dandelions, a strange phenonon surrounded by a vacuum of untouched land.
Maierin had an idea of what this might be.
He pulled over.
"Stay in the car. Wait for ."
"But my lord—"
"No argunts, Garon. If this is what I think it is, you might not survive."
Brushing aside the dandelions, Maierin walked through the fluttering petals, approaching the crimson patch.
"As expected… but why is it here?"
Before him was a blood-red rose, dazzling and srizing, like a set of fiery lips whispering invitations to co closer.
But roses had thorns—deadly thorns.
This was the Royal Demon Rose, exuding a poisonous fragrance that could kill even a Gold Saint. Weaker Saints would have no chance at all.
Fortunately, its toxic aura had not fully awakened. Otherwise, the entire flower field would have beco a death trap.
Royal Demon Roses only grew in two places:
1. Pisces Palace in Sanctuary—the final defensive line, the royal garden of Sanctuary.
2. The Gold Saint of Pisces' Divine Artifact—Eternal Garden.
Eternal Garden was a mystical basket, a pocket dinsion where infinite roses of death could bloom. It was the weapon of Pisces Saints, housing Royal Demon Roses, Piranha Black Roses, and Bloodsucking White Roses.
A powerful Pisces Saint could even cultivate new varieties of deadly roses, which would be absorbed into Eternal Garden.
That ant…
"Could it have awakened because of ? But if Eternal Garden is sealed deep within this country, why is a Royal Demon Rose growing here?"
Just then, a soft yet urgent voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Get away! It's dangerous!"
"Hmm?"
Maierin turned and was montarily stunned.
A delicate young boy stood in the distance. He had silky blue hair, large expressive eyes, pale skin, and lips as red as a rose—a beauty even won would envy.
"Leave now! You'll die!" the boy called out.
Maierin didn't move. His eyes shifted from the boy's face to his arm—he was holding a basket.
"Eternal Garden… could it be?"
In an instant, Maierin connected the clues.
"Don't worry, child. I'll be fine."
The boy hesitated.
"Your poison can't harm ," Maierin reassured him.
The boy's fear wasn't of Maierin, but of hurting Maierin.
Encouraged by his words, the child slowly stepped forward. When he saw Maierin was unaffected, he finally broke down, crying loudly in the middle of the flower field.
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