“Lady Saint, these are the locations where monsters frequently appear, as compiled by the Heroes.”
Iselin took the report handed to her by Sister Hilaia.
These details were synthesized by the Heroes she had knighted—which monsters appeared where, in what numbers, along with information on nearby human settlements and the distribution of medical facilities.
Iselin nodded slowly, quite satisfied with the reports.
“Shall we disclose this information to Her Highness the Princess as well?”
Iselin rested her chin on one hand, hesitating for a moment.
“Tell her after her wounds have healed.”
The entire knighthood ceremony had been a mere pretext—”the dumplings made just for the sake of the vinegar”—all for the sake of Mo Wan.
Iselin had long prepared to show Mo Wan extraordinary attention during the ceremony to make her fall completely for the human side.
If successful, she could keep Mo Wan by her side as a sister and thoroughly “civilize” her.
She hadn’t expected Mo Wan to refuse the Knight’s Oath of Visa, forcing her to use other means to keep the girl close.
She had assumed that after being abandoned by the demons, Mo Wan’s heart would be cold and despondent; it seemed Mo Wan still clung to memories of her kin.
The duty of a Saint, from the moment of her birth, was to protect humanity and exterminate the demons.
But exterminating them was no simple task.
There was a legacy among the demons known as the “Advent of the Demon God.”
It existed to prevent the demons from becoming leaderless should the Demon King meet an accidental end.
The Advent of the Demon God was the final fail-safe to protect the “embers” of the King’s bloodline.
When the last of the royal blood was severed, a powerful Demon God would descend from the Demon Realm to protect the race and ignite the fires of revenge.
Once the demons’ place in the world was secured, the Demon God would select a new King and bestow a blessing upon their lineage, allowing the crown to be passed down once more.
Therefore, wiping out the demons wasn’t as simple as killing the Demon King.
As the tenth Saint of humanity, Iselin carried the expectations of the Sun God and all the people of Visa.
She had to achieve a feat more unprecedented than her nine predecessors to ensure eternal peace.
She had prepared for this moment for a very, very long time.
She would make Mo Wan the last remaining ember of the Demon King’s bloodline.
Then, she would cradle that ember delicately in her palm, refusing to let it go out.
She would make the ember cling to her willingly, until she forgot her homeland and abandoned her mission to set the world ablaze for her people.
After giving Hilaia a few brief instructions, Iselin dismissed her from the Saint’s lounge.
She looked out at the gloomy sky, calculating that enough time had passed.
She wanted to see what Mo Wan was doing.
Leaning back in her chair, Iselin closed her eyes and linked her divine consciousness to the ring on Mo Wan’s finger.
She heard light footsteps and the small sounds of objects being moved.
Beyond that, there was no speech.
It seemed Mo Wan had moved into the new home prepared for her.
Iselin intended to break the connection, but then she heard the rustle of clothing.
She settled in with patience—patience was the one thing she did not lack.
Especially regarding the grand struggle between humans and demons, she had spent years laying the groundwork; she didn’t mind waiting one more night.
She threw her full consciousness into the ring, determined to probe every secret Mo Wan held.
Until… she heard Mo Wan softly weeping.
It was a low, mournful sob—a gasp deliberately suppressed despite there being no one around, a sound that would make anyone’s heart ache.
Why is she crying?
Iselin wondered.
Is she homesick? Or is she afraid of being controlled by the Saint?
Iselin reflected on her actions since meeting Mo Wan.
She felt her arrangements had been restrained enough, though upon closer inspection, Mo Wan would surely realize everything had been pre-designed.
However, hearing the crying, Iselin did not hide her joy.
The corners of her mouth curled into a shallow smile.
Mo Wan was a fragile girl.
And fragility meant she was easier to control.
Iselin continued to listen.
Then, she heard sounds that were… less than ideal, replacing the girl’s sobs.
Her expression grew serious.
She knew what those sounds were.
So… the Demon Princess had that sort of hobby.
She counted the time in her head.
About ten minutes later, she heard a long sigh.
Iselin slowly opened her eyes and withdrew her consciousness.
The girl’s panting and whimpering still echoed in her ears; through the ring, Iselin felt as if she had been right there, watching the tide rise and fall.
Of course, Iselin didn’t find such things shameful; many sisters in the church struggled with similar urges.
Iselin believed that human desire was natural—as long as one didn’t lose themselves to lust, there was no need for shame.
She taught the sisters that they could love themselves, but must never allow their bodies to be touched by anyone other than the Gods.
Every word she spoke to the believers followed the church’s dogmas.
As for herself, she had lived by a strict code since birth.
She could understand these emotions, but she seemed to have never experienced such carnal desire herself.
No one taught her, and no one dared to, because she was the absolute standard of the church’s creed—the paragon of devotion to the Divine.
Iselin removed her cloak and stood up.
Leaving the church, her attire naturally transformed into a set of ordinary civilian clothes—a simple light blue dress, like that of a girl next door.
She was on a sensitive errand and couldn’t be too conspicuous, lest she be bothered by passing believers.
She arrived at the house she had prepared for Mo Wan.
Looking at the dark windows, she hesitated a moment before knocking politely.
Ten seconds passed with no response.
She figured Mo Wan should have finished cleaning up during her walk over.
She knocked again, standing quietly.
She could feel the distance between herself and the ring; Mo Wan was definitely inside.
After another dozen seconds, the purple-haired girl still hadn’t opened the door.
Iselin pressed her palm against the door, and it swung open automatically.
The living room was empty and cold.
Iselin closed the door and walked through the darkness to Mo Wan’s room, but it was empty.
She came to the bathroom, which was lit with a yellow glow.
Passing through the swirling steam, Iselin saw the girl in the tub.
Mo Wan was hugging her knees against the back of the tub, her legs partially veiling her chest.
Her fair neck, soaked in hot water, looked like a greenhouse flower that had never seen wind or rain, though her sharp collarbones and pointed chin made her look quite frail.
The towel wrapped around her head was still steaming.
Her eyes were softly closed, water droplets clinging to her long eyelashes.
Her lips were relaxed; she looked peaceful.
She had fallen asleep in the tub, though it didn’t look like a “happy” sleep.
The recent indulgence seemed to have only relieved her stress, rather than bringing her to a paradise of bliss.
What a pitiful girl, Iselin thought with a secret sigh.
If she were a human girl, I would certainly take her in and raise her as my own daughter.
Unfortunately, she was a demon—the Demon Princess herself.
Iselin leaned down, reaching her right hand under the girl’s arm and her left under her calves.
The sudden intimate contact startled the girl awake.
Her eyes snapped open like a frightened deer’s, her hazy gaze filled with deep hostility.
Only when she recognized the person touching her was the Saint Iselin did the hostility fade slightly.
But her body remained tense.
The shock and embarrassment of waking up replaced the unease and alarm of her dream.
“Lady Saint… why… why are you here?”