Chapter 153 - 152: The Pitiful Believer, Twisted Around the Saintess’s Finger

Chapter 153: Chapter 152: The Pitiful Believer, Twisted Around the Saintess’s Finger

The moment Rosalind appeared, everyone who laid eyes on her gasped.

She was breathtakingly beautiful.

She had silver hair, silver eyes, and an exquisite face. A cold, inviolable aura radiated from her. The wind, snow, and chilling mist swirled docilely around her, clustering close as if to protect her. She looked just like an Ice and Snow Fairy from the legends—one blessed by the Ice and Snow Goddess, otherworldly and aloof.

The gazes fixed upon her were filled with a mix of complex emotions.

Those who didn’t know her were filled with sorrow. How could such a beautiful person be the Holy Son—no, the Saintess?—of a cult like the Eternal Frost Sect?

’It’s like a priceless gem being dragged through the mud.’

Meanwhile, those who knew her found it impossible to accept. The Rosalind they knew was righteous and earnest, an outstanding and trustworthy leader and colleague. How could she possibly be involved with the Eternal Frost Sect?

As for the Eternal Frost Sect, they were overcome with ecstatic fervor.

Their prayers had been answered—the child of their Deity had truly appeared before them!

This Power, this aura... there was no mistaking it!

This was the child of their Deity!

Midia, who was leading the ritual, ceased his movements and stepped forward. He then prostrated himself in a gesture of utmost reverence.

"Praise to my Lord, Candela! Your divine miracle has finally manifested in the world!"

"Oh, Saintess, your loyal servants implore you to join us. Lead us to the silent, tranquil Eternal Frozen Lands—"

At his movement, the rest of the Eternal Frost Cultists prostrated themselves in unison.

"Saintess! Please take pity on us and guide us!"

Even the fearsome Frost White Young Dragon lowered its head in a gesture of respect.

The fanatical and bizarre atmosphere made the entire scene fall silent.

All eyes were on Rosalind, awaiting her response.

Rosalind’s gaze swept over the deep blue figures prostrated on the ground, finally settling on Midia.

She waited until her glacial gaze had filled him and the other cultists with dread before she spoke, her voice light.

Her voice was as cold and calm as a spring flowing slowly beneath a sheet of ice.

"This white fog, the one causing all this chaos and panic... is this your doing?"

Midia prostrated himself again, nearly burying his head in the cold snow. His posture was utterly servile, but his voice trembled with excitement:

"O, most supreme Saintess! This is the sacred carpet we laid out for your descent into the mortal world! It is the grand procession meant to announce your supreme glory to this mundane world!"

"Only a ’Veil of Frost Breath’ as pure as this is worthy of welcoming Your Grace! It cleanses all filth and clears a path for your holy arrival—"

"I do not like it."

Rosalind cut off his long-winded adulation. Her tone was placid but allowed no room for argument, and the cold, noble air about her imbued her words with absolute authority.

"It obstructs my sight and disrupts the proper order of things."

Midia froze, his ecstasy instantly replaced by terror.

’The Saintess’s will is a divine oracle!’

"Yes! Yes! It is our ignorance! We failed to comprehend the Saintess’s preferences!"

He shot upright, his gaunt fingers trembling with urgency as he roared at several High Tier cultists behind him.

"Get rid of it! Dispel the ’Veil of Frost Breath’ at once! The Saintess is displeased with it! Now!"

Without a moment’s hesitation, the kneeling High Tier cultists stopped their chanting. Their hands formed a series of intricate, cold Hand Seals as they uttered abstruse syllables.

The thick, seemingly solid layer of gray-white clouds in the sky began to churn violently, as if being ripped apart by a giant, invisible hand.

The heavy white fog blanketing the town thinned at a visible rate, becoming transparent like snow melting in the sun, quickly dissolving and receding.

The dim light of the Northern Territory’s sky shone down once more. Amidst the dissipating fog, the outlines of streets and buildings slowly came into focus.

The chaotic sounds of crying and screaming from afar began to fade, as if the sudden return of daylight had dispelled some of the city’s fear.

Midia let out a long sigh of relief, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He knelt once more, pressing his forehead to the icy snow.

"We have corrected our foolishness! Please, Saintess, quell your anger!"

"This filthy mortal world, this cage filled with conspiracy and betrayal, is truly unworthy of your noble station. Our Lord’s eternal frozen lands are your true, supreme sanctuary!"

"We implore you to depart with us, your loyal servants. Leave this place, return to the embrace of our Lord, and lead us toward that silent eternity..."

Rosalind ignored his plea completely.

Her gaze swept over the Frost White Young Dragon, its menacing head still bowed, then over the cultists who remained prostrate, their eyes burning with fanaticism. Finally, her eyes returned to Midia. Her cold voice rang out once more, posing a question completely unrelated to her "return."

"Do you know of the Blood Eye Association’s plot?"

Midia blinked, then his expression turned cold and grim.

Without the slightest hesitation, he revealed everything he knew.

"Your insight is sharp, Saintess! That pack of rats, hiding in the shadows and daring only to gnaw from the dark—we saw through their plot long ago!"

"They colluded with moles inside Birch Town. Their plan is to incite bandits to enter the town and create chaos while Paris Manola is trapped. Then, they’ll pose as Count Heta’s army to ’quell the rebellion,’ seizing control of Birch Town in the confusion."

Hearing this, all the onlookers gasped in shock.

They knew the Blood Eye Association was ambitious, but they had no idea they were this audacious!

’Impersonating Count Heta’s army to enter the town!?’

The implications sent a chill down their spines.

But Midia was not finished speaking.

His gaze swept discreetly over the nervous crowd inside the Golden Maple Leaf Trading House behind Rosalind. As if a thought had just occurred to him, he added in a fawning tone.