The streets of the city were long and dim, cast by the towering insulaes that occupy the city. Ever since Julia conquered the city, and promptly naming it after herself, the city had grown unattended to many years. There was a thin and skewed line through which the sky could be vaguely seen, shining forth a few spots on the road. Nevertheless, the sunlight was not bright enough to illuminate all the shadows in the street.
Ovid and Anna followed the curved street to the end of the road. The people of the city were quite chatty, causing Ovid some mild discomfort. He said to Anna, “Is everyone in the city this chatty?”
“Definitely,” Anna responded, “Juliana is the wealthiest city on the continent. The people here have far more free time than anywhere else, so the only thing than can do is to gossip.”
Ovid was mildly surprised. Recalling the chatty inhabitants of a certain city in his old world.
Ovid’s status as a half saint inertly possess a force to part the crowds infront of them. Before long, they arrived at the end of the street. Anna lifted her petite face and said, “I’m quite hungry.”
Calmly and peacefully, Ovid replied, “I’m not familiar with the city.”
Anna laughed and then shook her head. She said, “I know a good place.”
Without waiting for a response, she grabbed Ovid’s hand and brought him to an unremarkable residence, where she was greeted warmly by a middle-aged woman wearing.
Anna was familiar with this woman and desired the beetroot borscht commonly eaten in the northern portions of the empire.
The middle-aged woman shook her head and said, “We ran out of beetroots, but a traveller from the northern continent introduced me to a similar recipe with tomatoes, so why don’t I make you two a bowl of ABC soup?”
Anna enthusiastically agreed. The middle-aged woman was not an excellent cook, but the meals were always homely. To try a new recipe is a great joy.
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The crimson red soup from the tomatoes paired with slow cook beef created a truly wonderful flavour. With the addition of black bread’s wonderful texture, Anna showered the middle-aged woman with praises.
Ovid’s mother had always instructed him to be silent before finishing a meal, so the two dined in relative silence until the large bowl was emptied.
Anna requested for a plate of fruit platter from the middle-aged woman. Looking at the juicy and plump grape, she contemplated what topic she should initiate with Ovid to kill time.
At this moment, two pairs of sister walked in. Their tunics were dyed in a large assortment of colours, appearing like a phoenix’s feather that even a king cannot afford.
Ovid was a half saint, and he had fought against one of the two sisters before. His hand holding the spoon stiffen, and suddenly, a sword appeared in its place.
However, the two sisters acted as if they did not notice them. Instead, they found a neighbouring table and ordered some dishes. Anna reconsidered her plan to retreat to her minor realm, but Ovid could sense the concealed energy coming from Margrethe and Ulrika.
When saints fought in cities, the casualty would number a large percentage of the city’s population. Even if Julia was the coldest of creatures, she would not willingly engage a fellow saint such as Ulrika and destroy her largest source of income. Since she failed to notice the two sisters on their journey, she had no choice but to accept their presence in Juliana.
As for how Margrethe and Ulrika had concealed their presence, Ovid hypothesised it was probably due to some boom the natural world had given to the phoenix.
He pinched a grape between his fingers and delivered it into his mouth, chewing the fruit until all its juices had been expelled. When he was younger, he heavily disliked grapes, but his mother loved them.
“I’m surprised this restaurant is still open after five thousand years,” Ulrika said in a perplexed manner.
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Time could change many things, yet surprisingly, this ordinary restaurant did not change.
However, many other things had changed.
For example, a certain person who had yet to even reach deaconhood could advance leaps and bound, becoming a half-saint.
Of course, Margrethe was a phoenix. If she transformed into her phoenix stage, she could even withstand the onslaught of a saint, much less Ovid, who’s control over mana was none existent.
The restaurant was silent.
The middle-aged woman was blissfully unaware that the successor to the empire, Cai Hua’s disciple, a legendary phoenix at the stage of sainthood and the prodigy of the monster race was currently dining in her humble restaurant. Slicing a slab of pork belly, she hummed a rustic tune.
“You still own me a life.”
Margrethe said without looking away from her plate of fish. Her knife that carved the dish open carried an immeasurable murderous intent as it pierced through the fish’s flesh.
This statement was referring to their meeting in Gael’s tomb. At that time, Ovid had just killed Glafx by flooding his body with mana, becoming as weak as a newborn in the process.
Margrethe’s thinking was very simple, albeit very twisted. Since she did not kill Ovid as Irene and Ulrika exchanged blows, it was her sparing Ovid a life.
Now that she learnt of Ovid’s background as a foreigner from her sister, it was only natural for her to want this ‘life’.
Ovid was somewhat confused but his vigilance soared. Irene had disappeared after fighting the pope, while Li Zhan vanished when they arrived at the region surrounding Juliana. At the present moment, he had to be vigilant, for he could not rely on another person to hold back Ulrika.
He was also confused, for Margrethe should be aware that Julia would not permit conflict on such level to occur in her city. Even if Ulrika and not Margrethe wanted to beat him to death, it would be extremely difficult.
After the silence continued, he realised the thought behind Margrethe. As long as Ulrika can hold deter Julia from acting, Margrethe could transform into her phoenix state, gaining the ability to kill Ovid.
Even if he was a half-saint, his skill using his power was negligible. Margrethe in comparison, possess the skills and ability of her ancient ancestors - if she fought against Catherine at her peak, 9 times out of 10 she would come on top.
“Let me try something,” Anna said to Ovid.
Lifting herself from the table, she walked forward and stood before Margrethe and Ulrika’s table.
Anna had a petite and cute figure that instinctively made one wish to spoil her. Before Margrethe, who possessed the build of a rural and study farmer, by built alone, she seemed insignificant.
However, Anna gave off an enormous weight.
This sort of pressure was the sort of feeling realised by a powerful sovereign.
Anna could not carry herself with her usual curiosity. She was gifted in the art of reading people and could tell that Margrethe could go crazy and attack Ovid at any moment.
“I’m sure you at least know who my sister is,” she said to Margrethe.
Margrethe narrowed her eyes, resembling the elegant pupils of phoenixes. She adjusted her voice before saying, “Everyone in the world knows her.”
“Since you recognise my identity, you should know that I will succeed my sister as the empress. Whatever the natural world offers, I will grant you an even greater boom.”
“You want me to leave peacefully?”
“I’m sure you and your sister are no fools. If you really kill him, Cai Hua will certainly seek revenge. Your tribe only have one and a half saint,” Anna’s voice grew grave as she continued, “If the two of you are killed, how will the phoenixes prosper for the next thousand years?”
Ulrika at the opposite end of the table sighed. “Your resemblance to Julia is frightening.”
Anna smiled, “If that can scare the two of you away.”
Margrethe replied, “You really think it can scare me?”
“This was just a suggestion, I have many others.” The edge of Anna’s lips lifted to form a warm smile. “The relationship between Julia and you phoenixes had cooled in recent years. Presumably, if you kill him, what benefits would you two gain in the long run? An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, after all.”
Margrethe sneered. “Your threats are too amateurish and insidious. I’ve read that you sort don’t live long in the storybooks.”
“Matter what, perhaps it would be beneficial to state what you desire from this act?”
Ulrika found Anna truly amusing. Her smile faded and she said, “The execution of Martha, the loyalty of the elves and the Theme of Straton. Lass, how are you going to give us something greater than these?”
Just as when Anna was able to refute Ulrika’s words, Ovid’s voice raised. It was soft and quiet, but resolute to the extreme.
“I don’t believe that my single life is worth the countless lives of the elves, or the entirety of Straton. No one person could be so valuable… so I don’t believe your words.”
He stood up and walked to Anna’s side, looking at Ulrika, he said, “I don’t understand what exchange you and Anna made, but I believe there is no value in a lie. Moreover, it’s wrong to exchange if even if it were true.
Ovid had always disliked making eye contact, but now he stared into Ulrika’s eyes. The meaning behind this gaze and those words were as clear as water.
The restaurant was deathly quiet. Even the old rustic song hummed by the middle-aged woman had disappeared.
Ovid was now very used to this silence that caused endless unease, for this feeling had also stirred within him when meeting Glafx.
Now that he had completely torn down the negotiation between Anna and the two sisters, there was no doubt that conflict between them could no longer be avoided.
Ulrika covered her mouth with her hand and began to laugh, sounding pleasant yet unnerving. The amusement in her eyes transformed into the brightest of flames.
When the laughter finally ceased, her two hands met, creating a crisp clap. She said to Ovid, “You really are a foreigner. Your world view is truly commendable.”
Ovid replied, “Thank you for the praise.”
Ulrika narrowed her eyes and said, “You really don’t think Margrethe and I dare not to kill you?”
Ovid replied calmly, “I don’t think the two of you have the means.”
Margrethe widened her eyes in shock. She realised the storybooks were indeed not lying to her when it said beautiful people are the most arrogant. In her eyes, although Ovid had fought her to a stalemate back in Aeon forest even before becoming a half-saint… she only needed to transform into her true form and crush Ovid without any effort.
Moreover, she had made sure the two saints behind Ovi were absent.
Thus, when Ovid said that the two of them lacked the means to defeat him, in the eyes of Margrethe, he was not someone with the utmost confidence in himself, but a complete madman.