Chapter 55: This is not a failure, this is an oracle!

The atmosphere in the Training Ground grew strange.

Bartholomew lay in the humanoid pit, his heavy armor dented in multiple places.

He looked utterly miserable.

The surrounding Order of Saint Knights were pale-faced,

their eyes full of shock.

Their strongest “Pope’s Wrath”—just like that, elbowed away by the Vampire Princess Royal?

And that scream… was it really from their dignified and mighty captain?

Sylvia felt the gazes cast around them.

Instinctively, she shrank closer into Ophelia’s arms.

“This is over. Now there’s even more to talk about…”

She wailed silently in her heart.

Amidst this eerie silence, Uther VII suddenly stood up.

His eyes burned with fanatic fervor, his face written with excitement.

“Do you see it?”

The Pope’s voice rang throughout the Training Ground.

“This is not a defeat.”

“This is yet another Oracle granted to us by the Holy Body!”

Sylvia twitched at the corner of her eye.

Here we go again!

This old man’s imagination really had no cure!

The Order of Saint Knights exchanged glances, their eyes full of confusion.

An Oracle?

This was clearly a crushing defeat!

Uther VII began pacing on the viewing platform, hands waving in the air.

“Haven’t you noticed?”

His voice grew more impassioned.

“The Vampire Princess Royal’s power is so overwhelming, it only highlights just how sacred and fragile the Holy Body she protects truly is!”

“The Princess Royal’s strength exists precisely to protect the Holy Body from being defiled by scoundrels!”

Listening to this, a string of question marks appeared over Sylvia’s head.

What kind of nonsense logic is this?

Avira raised an eyebrow, watching this crazy old man with interest.

“Interesting. Continue,” she thought to herself.

Uther VII’s voice grew even more fervent.

“And more than that!”

He pointed to the center of the Training Ground.

“The reason the Princess Royal won so easily is because the Holy Body was right beside her!”

“The Holy Light deliberately yielded, daring not to harm the Holy Body even slightly. Therefore, Bartholomew’s power was suppressed!”

“This is not defeat—it is the Holy Light’s reverence for the Holy Body!”

At these words, the viewing platform erupted.

“So that’s it!”

“How did I not think of that?”

“Captain Bartholomew’s Holy Light truly was unusual!”

The knights suddenly understood, their broken faith instantly rebuilt, becoming even more zealous.

Their gaze towards Sylvia shifted from shock to reverence and gratitude.

“Your Highness, the Holy Body!”

“Thank you for your mercy!”

“You are truly magnificent!”

Feeling their burning gazes, Sylvia shivered in fear.

She hurried deeper into her mother’s embrace,

her silver hair nearly burying her face.

“Enough!”

She raged silently in her mind.

“Can your imagination not be put to better use?!”

Ophelia looked down at her curled-up youngest daughter, a gentle light shining in her eyes.

“Don’t pay any mind to these fools.”

She stroked Sylvia’s silver hair softly.

Avira looked at the frenzied knights, displeasure flickering in her eyes.

She bounced over to Sylvia’s side, leaned close and whispered into her ear.

“Sis, they don’t seem afraid of me.”

Her voice held a dangerous edge.

“Shall I go and beat that tin can up again?”

Sylvia felt the murderous intent radiating off her sister, frightened, she shook her head quickly.

“No!”

Her small hand gripped Avira’s finger tightly.

“You’re the best.”

“Let’s go home.”

Avira felt the warmth of her sister’s trust, the murderous intent in her eyes vanished instantly.

“Alright, we’ll do as you say.”

She affectionately patted Sylvia’s head.

The thought of beating someone up just moments ago was thrown far out of her mind.

Having her sister reach out and hold her hand felt more fulfilling than defeating a hundred tin cans.

Bartholomew struggled to rise from the humanoid pit.

He looked at the fervent comrades around him, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

So it wasn’t that he was too weak, but that the Holy Light had deliberately yielded to protect the Holy Body?

This explanation… actually sounded reasonable.

Bartholomew looked at Sylvia.

The unwillingness in his eyes instantly turned into gratitude.

“Your Highness, the Holy Body, thank you for your mercy.”

He knelt on one knee, voice devout.

“I swear, I will become stronger.”

“Strong enough to be worthy of guarding by your side.”

Hearing this, Sylvia felt worse than before.

What mercy?

What guarding?

She clearly hadn’t done anything!

Uther VII, hearing Bartholomew’s words,

was so excited he nearly jumped up.

“That’s right! This is the greatness of the Holy Body!”

His voice trembled.

“Her very existence inspires us to grow stronger!”

“The true meaning of this sparring session is not to determine a winner, but to make us realize our shortcomings!”

“The Holy Body speaks to us silently, telling us that only by growing stronger can we truly protect the Light!”

The knights around them listened, their blood boiling.

They clenched their fists in unison.

“The Pope is right!”

“We will grow stronger!”

“For the Holy Body! For the Light!”

Sylvia watched the knights suddenly energized, her heart sinking into utter despair.

She just wanted to quietly be a salted fish princess.

Why did even watching a match have to be twisted like this?

Avira noticed her sister’s aggrieved expression.

She glared at the knights with displeasure.

“A bunch of lunatics.”

She muttered quietly.

“So noisy.”

Ophelia observed everything with a good mood.

The chaos caused by her daughters exceeded her expectations.

These human reactions were too amusing.

She only intended for Avira to stretch her limbs a bit, but unexpectedly, their faith had become even more fanatical.

This was definitely good news for the Eternal Night Empire.

Zealous believers were far easier to deal with than rational enemies.

“All right.”

Ophelia stood up.

“The sparring session is over, we should head back.”

Her voice was soft, but everyone present heard it clearly.

Uther VII hurriedly nodded.

“Yes, yes, Your Highness, the Holy Body must be tired.”

He spoke carefully.

“Please rest well.”

Sylvia finally breathed a sigh of relief.

At last, she could escape this troublesome place.

Avira scooped her up and strode out.

“Let’s go, little sister.”

Her tone was light.

“Today’s warm-up is over.”

Sylvia rested her head on her sister’s shoulder, secretly glancing back at the Training Ground.

Bartholomew was now energetically discussing plans with other knights, a fiercer flame burning in his eyes than before.

“This is bad.”

She wailed silently.

“They’ve gone even crazier.”

***

Back at the Annex, Sylvia collapsed onto the bed, not wanting to move at all.

“Why did it have to turn out like this…”

She muttered softly.

“It was just watching a match…”

Avira sat at the bedside, beginning to peel an apple.

“Don’t think too much, little sister.”

She comforted her.

“Those humans are just abnormal to begin with.”

“But it seems they’ve gotten even crazier.”

Sylvia turned over, burying her face in the pillow.

“Let them be crazy then.”

Avira said indifferently.

“They still can’t beat me anyway.”

She cut the peeled apple into small pieces, forking one piece and offering it to Sylvia.

“Here, open up.”

Sylvia opened her mouth and bit into the apple.

The sweet juice lifted her mood slightly.

“Sis, when can we go home?”

She asked softly.

“Soon.”

Avira stroked her silver hair.

“Just a little longer.”

Sylvia obediently nodded, continuing to enjoy the apple her sister fed her.

***

Meanwhile, at the Training Ground, Bartholomew had already begun drafting a new training plan.

“From today onward, everyone’s training volume will double!”

His voice rang out resolutely.

“We must grow stronger, strong enough to deserve guarding the Holy Body!”

The knights responded in unison, their voices echoing to the skies.