* **In Jade City, at the Church of Light.**
The High Priest, having received notice, stood outside the church gate. From a distance, he saw a group of clerics approaching, all dressed in white robes woven with golden threads.
As a High Priest, he imdiately recognized that attire, it belonged to the Central Church of the Southern Continent. It represented the sacred authority of the Holy Empire itself.
Technically speaking, the ranks of these people were even higher than his own.
He hurried forward, a flattering smile spreading across his face as he warmly welcod them. Before long, the group entered the grand hall of the church. They all sat down casually, surprisingly without putting on any airs. With a single exception.
“High Priest, are you expecting to sit on these filthy chairs?” The man slowly removed his hood, revealing a handso face now shadowed by displeasure.
He looked to be around twenty-five or twenty-six, tall and well-built, with long golden hair and a pair of golden eyes that glead with arrogance. His presence was commanding, almost oppressive.
Hearing this, the High Priest felt stifled inside, though he dared not show it.
‘Others can sit, so why can’t you? Is your rear sohow more noble than theirs?’
Maintaining a calm facade, the High Priest looked at the young man and said politely, “Your Honor, our church seats are wiped twice daily, morning and evening, with fresh towels dampened by purified water. They are absolutely clean.”
“Oh? You expect a man born of the noble Aslan House to sit on chairs defiled by countless common posteriors?” The young man’s expression turned increasingly cold.
“The Aslan House… don’t tell —you an the Golden Aslan Family!?” The High Priest exclaid in shock.
“That’s right. I am one of them, Passat of the Golden Aslan Family.” The handso man, who called himself Passat, brushed aside his golden bangs with a proud gesture.
“I was blind not to recognize a mber of the illustrious Golden Aslan Family. I deeply apologize.” The High Priest bowed low, his tone utterly submissive.
The Aslan Family was one of the Ten Great Houses of the Southern Continent, a lineage of imnse power and influence. Those born of such families were considered the nobility of nobility. One could never afford to offend them.
The High Priest quickly ordered the church clerics to fetch the finest chair from his personal chamber. His frantic deanor looked almost comical. Passat’s lips curved into a faint, disdainful smirk.
The clerics from the Central Church were already used to his behavior. After all, who could bla him? Birth was luck, not effort, and luck was sothing they could never envy enough.
In less than three minutes, two clerics returned carrying a heavy, ornate chair. They placed it at the cleanest spot, carefully polished it again, and only then dared to let Passat sit.
Satisfied, Passat finally took his seat and said lazily, “Bring so fruits or snacks. Also, get a few pretty girls to dance. I’m bored.”
At those words, the corners of the High Priest’s eyes and mouth twitched violently. ‘We are a church, not a brothel!’ He could only scream that in his heart.
“I’ll see to it imdiately,” he said after forcing himself to calm down, then obediently ordered the nearby clerics to prepare fruits… and find so beautiful won. The situation was beyond his control. He had no choice but to comply.
“Has anything important happened in the church lately?” Leaning back in the plush chair, Passat cast a lazy glance toward the High Priest, his tone casual yet commanding. With the bishop absent, he was the highest authority here. Naturally, he had every right to ask.
The High Priest initially wanted to brush him off, but suddenly, the image of the *Black-Hearted Princess* surfaced in his mind. Inspiration struck. “Your Honor, indeed, sothing significant did occur recently within our church.”
“Oh? Let’s hear it.” Passat crossed his legs and looked up at him.
“Well, it went like this…” The High Priest began, twisting the truth as he recounted the incident that had taken place that day. His version was full of drama and flair. According to his story, the Black-Hearted Princess had forcibly seized the church’s Holy Spirit Shard. He had risked his life to stop her but was gravely wounded, and the shard was ultimately stolen.1
Upon hearing this, Passat’s eyes instantly glead with excitent, his heart surging with joy. How could he not know? The so-called Holy Spirit Shard was, in truth, a fragnt of a Sacred Artifact. If one could gather all the fragnts, they could restore it into a complete Sacred Artifact!
In this godless era, possessing such an artifact would allow one to dominate an entire region and accomplish extraordinary feats.
‘That woman’s Holy Spirit Shard… it belongs to !’ Passat clenched his fists tightly, unrestrained greed flashing in his golden eyes.
Seeing this, the High Priest maintained a calm expression on the surface, but deep down, he was secretly elated. ‘Hehehe… Black-Hearted Princess, oh Black-Hearted Princess. I can’t deal with you myself, but soone else surely can!’
Under the sa sky, inside a fast-moving beast-drawn carriage, Yae-hi suddenly felt a chill run down her spine. ‘Has the weather turned cold? Or is it that another wretch is plotting against ?’
Half-squinting her eyes, she looked slightly puzzled, suspicion climbing onto her delicate face.
***
“Ahhh, I’m so bored. How can life be this boring?” Irene got up from bed, her little face full of dull frustration. Days without her lewd novels were just unbearably dry and monotonous.
“Guess I’ll go for a walk.” After saying that, Irene changed into a white dress and stepped out of her room.
‘Strange… what are they all doing?’ Seeing the church clerics bustling about, she curiously followed one of them who was carrying a tray of fruit into the main hall.
The mont she appeared, hundreds of eyes turned toward her.
“Did soone important die today or sothing? Why are there so many people?” Irene stopped and asked in confusion. But right after speaking, she sensed sothing was off.
Looking closely, she noticed that the white robes embroidered with gold threads looked sowhat familiar.
Just then, the High Priest’s furious roar ca from not far away, “Irene! What nonsense are you spouting! Get back to your room at once!” Terrified that she might accidentally offend Passat and drag him into trouble, he hurried to scold her first to save face.
Being yelled at for no reason, Irene’s expression instantly darkened, her face turning frosty. Don’t be fooled by how she often acted like a silly girl in front of Yae-hi, when it was ti to be serious, she never held back.
“Old man, who did you just tell to get back?” As soon as she finished speaking, a surge of powerful energy erupted from within her like a towering mountain, pressing down on everyone present.
Feeling the terrifying pressure, the High Priest’s heart imdiately sank. His face turned deathly pale. He had forgotten, this church’s strongest person was none other than Saintess Irene!
Normally, they all ignored each other and stayed out of each other’s way. But once their interests clashed, or if soone provoked her like this, the consequences would be unimaginable!
“Where did this wild girl co from? Do you have no sense of decorum?”
Just as Irene was about to strike, a loud, commanding voice rang out. In the next instant, an equally formidable aura burst forth from Passat’s body, clashing violently against hers.
“Let teach you a lesson on behalf of the High Priest…” Passat rose to his feet and turned to face Irene, yet halfway through his sentence, his words abruptly stopped.
He stood frozen, gazing at the stunningly beautiful girl before him—so pure, so ethereal, she looked like an elf descended from heaven. A murmur escaped his lips. “Damn… this must be what they call love at first sight.”
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