After Sage Glafx said his last words, he slowly closed his eyes. Both his knees were kneeling against the cold stone floor, and his hands rest atop it, like a thinker contemplating.
A light breeze with a soft hissing sound blew towards them and the sage’s body, which had been released from the grove’s roots, suddenly cracked open and dispersed with the breeze, like a gathering of dust. Unlike other saints, he did not even leave behind bones or blood.
That is probably because he was never a saint.
---
Ovid’s expression was unchanged where he stood, his body still in an executioner’s posture.
Eventually, his hands moved to rub off the blood at the corner of his mouth.
Supporting himself with the dull blade, he leaned against a large piece of the groves remain. His body had many horrible wounds, from his ruined legs to the large chunk of meat missing on his shoulders.
Moreover, his inners were doing even worse. After channelling such a large quantity of mana through Tanin, his internal organs were on the verge of breaking down. While he had consumed the phoenix blood and avoided immolation, he was still in a great deal of pain.
Still, his foundations were the name, aside from Glafx’s last words, Ovid’s mental state remained quite stable. He was not confused or filled with terror from the previous experience, only very tired.
He used his preception that had been greatly depleted and discovered that the silver pearl Julia had placed within him still existed. It remained motionless and made not increase or decreased in size. It was rather hard to believe that mere movement ago, it had been suppressed by Glafx to a frightening degree.
Abruptly, the silver pearl started to absorb the mana that saturated the room, entering through Ovid’s pores, it began to scatter throughout his body, leaving no spot untouched.
It felt like the baths he would take often at a city, only that it was much colder, and was more refreshing than relaxing. Surprisingly, it started to heal the wounds of his body.
Cai Hua said that advancements are made through life and death experiences. Since he had almost passed that fence into the River Styx and suffered countless injuries, reaching that limit experience, it was probably due to that, that the healing capabilities of the silver pearl were revealed.
Still, the rate at which mana was absorbed was slow, far slower than the speed he would heal if he liberally consumed the healing pellets Cai Hua had given him.
Downing pills with the aid of mellow wine, when he looked down, he realised that his face and hair was caked with dirt while his red stola was filled with blood. The stola was still in good form, albeit now a hole exposed his shoulder.
Still, Ovid gave off an aura of cleanliness in the now dark room.
Examining the bloody and horrifying wound on his shoulder even further, Ovid realised that there is a good chance that he will be living with a hole, and need to wear very modest clothing.
Although the figure of this body was good, he never liked wearing flowery clothing, so that did not bother him as much. Still, the Glafx had not brushed his teeth in a very long time, so the wound was probably very dirty.
Removing the bits of flesh stained with a filthy aura, he slowly poured the stronger liquor on it to prevent infections. Minding very little for the pain it produced, he stood up and walked out of the room, passing the great big door that isolated this burial chamber from the rest of the world.
---
As he walked on the stone pillars, he took out a piece of dried meat, only to realise that it looked very similar to wrinkled flesh of Glafx. He frowned and place the meat into his spacial ring, and took out a dried fig Anna had given to him at an unknown point.
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Tasting the overpowering sweetness spreading through his tongue, Ovid felt it was quite unpleasant, but made him full of energy. Letting his half healed feet carry him along the stone pillar, he walked at a mechanical speed, but a face pace nevertheless.
Continuing to walk along that smooth and hard surface, his footstep immediately stopped upon noticing two tiny figures at the foot of the pillar.
When the two appeared before him, he did not take out his sword and continued to munch of the dried fig held between his fingers. He had already exhausted all his options, but he did not despair and think that he was about to die under Margrethe’s hands.
After he finished the dried fig, he made a gesture of courtesy towards the more mature of the two phoenixes, who was dressed in a mere underdress that went past her ankles. It was possible to see the colour of her skin beneath the dress, though it was very faint. Her hair was tied into two buns at the side of her head, appearing like little wings.
He said, “The pillar is pretty wide, we can take each side.”
Ulrika looked sympathetically at the hole in Ovid’s shoulder, she said, “No one likes scars on their body. If my sister decides to kill you, I will ensure that you are buried in one piece.”
Ovid nodded and turned his gaze toward Margrethe. He did not say any words.
Margrethe’s youthful and charming face turned pale in contemplation, staring past the platform at the centre of the room, she said after a long time, “There is no valour in kicking someone when they are down. But you must become my captive.”
Ovid shook his head and answered, “I won’t agree to that.”
He had been raised on modern principles of freedom and liberty and was a stubborn person. Since injustice is something his mother had always despised, he naturally also despised it and added it to his list of principles. While he had broken a major rule in killing Glafx, he would still try to avoid going against it.
Margrethe’s expression darkened. She raised her voice and said, “I am showing you mercy and benevolence. You have no other choice.”
Ovid stood his ground and said, “That makes sense, but I still refuse to become your captive. If you seek a fight, it can be arranged later.”
Margrethe wonder if Ovid had hit his head as a child. She looked at Ovid while suppressing her anger. She said, “You’re such a shameless person. Do you have no honour? Even a street prostitute is better than you.”
Ovid replied very honestly, “A street prostitute is still a person. If you want to anger me, it is a futile effort.”
His face was so earnest that Margrethe struggled to come up with any words for a long time. Such a response was something that could not even be considered controversial, as it generally considered a universal fact that street prostitutes were the lowest of the low, as they were little for than slaves. The street prostitutes and courtesans differ, as courtesans could potentially buy back their freedom, while the other would die with little wealth.
“Then what if I chopped off you limbs, gouge out your eyes, slice off your ears and throw you into the latrine. Would that anger you?” Margrethe then asked, her pleasing voice sounding especially chilling with these words.
“Of course,” Ovid replied with the same tone he uses to speak all other sentences.
Sensing no fear coming from Ovid, Margrethe realised that making Ovid a ‘human swine’ is something that seemed so outrageous that it was even difficult for her, to image doing such an act.
After a long sigh, she looked at the ground beneath Ovid’s sandals and said, “You are lucky that I am not in a mood for slaughter today. The death of Gael is just too depressing. I am still taking you captive regardless.”
Ovid tilted his head and said nothing. He felt the gentle breeze of wind against him as he said, “There are others waiting for me outside.”
Ovid was not good at threatening others, and thus could only use the most simple words to state his intentions.
Margrethe was naturally aware of this. With a smirk at the edge of her fingers, she said, “I already know that one saint has already left. As long as my sister distract the other, you have no choice.”
Ovid thought over it and realise that logic did indeed make a lot of sense. He looked at the big stone door in silence.
As if receiving a signal, an invisible blade of wind full of strength soared across the great distance, intending to kill Ulrika.
This was not a sneak attack, as saints are capable of sensing the slightest fluctuations in mana caused by the most insignificant of rats.
It was a strike with killing intent and was done in a way so openly that it even Margrethe was able to sense it hundreds of meters away.
Yet the blade of wind was so fast that it pressed all the air within the room against the wall, leaving behind a path of absolute silence.
Ulrika’s eyes widened, taking a step forward Margrethe, she fluttering her wings as if having done so millions of times.
The invisible blade hit the wing, leaving a deep impression on its structure.
A few deep slices appeared on Ulrika’s face, yet there wasn’t even enough time for blood to flow out, as the whole exchange was something beyond time.
Ulrika changed the stance of her whole body in an instant. Facing the blade, her hands moved like birds drifting across the sky as a stream of flames appeared before her.
With a hissing sound, the stream of flames met the blade of wind, forming a crescent to match the shape of the invisible blade.
Like a match made in heaven, the two forces gleamed with blinding brilliance before spurting onto the pillars beneath them.
The residue of the flames fell before Ovid, melting into the material of the pillar and leaving behind countless scars.
Then, a sound was heard.
As if massive bodies were colliding against each other, the sound was deeper than anything a human can produce, yet also very loud at the same time.
Containing raw power, it spread through every corner of this tomb and causing the loose stones stuck in the wall to all fall, producing a melody that followed the initial deep noise.
Ovid and Margrethe were not harmed in the slightest from the resulting fallout of the collision.
The two saints had developed to such level that all auras were be used within any inefficiency. The amount of strength placed in their attacks was perfect for the distance, demonstrating the incredible mental prowess of both parties. In the end, only a sense of grandness from the absolute power could be felt.
An all-out battle between saints is incredibly rare. And confrontations between dragons and phoenixes are all but lost to the world since phoenixes had retreated into the Aeon forest, and dragons came to dominate the human world.