The Metopo mountain is the place closest to the heavens, usually, it would always be accompanied by streams of starlight, even in the daytime.
Far away, outside of this world, a faint stream of starlight shone on this peak. Although the light had faded greatly from its journey, as it reached the peak, the sky turned dark.
The light passed through the mountain face into the cave, it gradually stopped while its surroundings became dazzlingly radiant.
When the flash finally faded, the figure of a young woman appeared. Watching a spot in the cave while tilting her head, her yellow clothes stirred despite the lack of wind.
The spot she was looking at had a person. That person the woman was looking at was naturally Ovid. His clothes had long turned into tatters, the fabric made from velvet gold silk unrecognisable. He still gave off a weak breath from time to time, causing him to look very pitiful.
This scene that can make anyone cry out in sorrow, yet the young woman didn’t reveal any emotion. She simply stood before Ovid and watched silently.
A long time passed before she spoke.
“In truth… I always wanted a daughter.”
Her voice was clean but so flat, expressing no emotions. It did not sound mechanical but it was blank, quiet, transparent like the void.
Those words were extremely petty and selfish, but spoken by her, it was as beautiful as the songs of nature.
Light shone from her eyes.
Her pupil was distinctly separated into black and white, charming and pure. The deepest part of her dark pupil was nothing but a vast pond, completely tranquil.
“Not bad; you’ve done a good job. For the next ten years, I will be busy.”
The young woman was speaking to Ovid like a mother to a child. Completely unsuited for her age.
She turned and walked out of the cave. The entrance of the cave was created by a sword cut, as smooth as a mirror.
The young woman turned and faced the clean surface.
The cold winter still blew, yet neither her clothes or hair was ruffled in the slightest.
She looked at the face reflected on the surface and showed a satisfied expression.
That face was beautiful.
That face was perfect.
If one were to describe it as beautiful as a painting, then it must have been drawn by the best artist in a million years.
Not even Julia, who was widely considered as the most beautiful woman in the world, can compare to such a perfect face.
Starlight fell onto that face onto the surface, illuminating the reflection to seem even more ethereal.
It was then no wonder everyone had once called her a ‘fairy’.
Not even the natural world can be so beautiful.
The cold winter picked up again, this time stirring away her clothes as well as her thought.
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“I left home young, now old, I return carefree, My tongue unchanged, my hair now thinner.”
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The Metopo mountains were the highest point in the world. Like a certain mountain back on Earth, it was impossibly hard to traverse - even a bishop could not reach this point easily.
But that did not bother her. She just walked on her bare feet, each one of her steps treading on nothing but thin air.
At the current moment, she couldn’t use any mana. Thus, it was illogical that she could fly like Cai Hua or Julia are capable of.
The reason why she could walk on air without mana is that she was lighter than air.
In a straight path, she arrived at the foot of the mountain. She stepped on the snow and debris made from the many shattered mountains over the ages. The young woman recalled something and began walking North.
Flowers sprout from her footsteps.
Her steps were at the pace of a normal human’s, but what was truly perilous about the Great Dividing Range was its frightening cold weather that would freeze off one’s arm if they were not careful. For every hour travelled, six hours of rest is needed. But the cold had no effect on the young woman.
She travelled a mile in the first hour and five miles in the next. It took her half a day to leave the mountain range.
She was used to this speed back in the other world but still found it rather unpleasant to walk on the poorly maintained road that had degraded since Alexander’s time.
She had been walking a short time, not enough for her to grow tired. When she finally arrived at the human kingdoms, she saw a fortress and some soldiers on guard.
This was the border fortress between the Julian Empire and the human kingdoms. Most of the soldiers had been transferred due to the Pope’s recent decline in health, but the fortress was still heavily manned.
She gazed at the fortress and realised it had been built quite recently. From her memory, there had once stood a mining town.
She had a blank expression as she recalled most of the jewellery was supplied to a certain person. However, the thought was dropped after a little while, for he had long left this world, while she had returned.
She felt a little hungry after returning to this world, so she walked up to the fortress.
The soldier stringing his bow, the knight polishing his armour, and the servants delivering food for those on patrol all immediately stopped what they were doing and either retreated or pointed at her and began shouting.
However, the language had changed over the past one hundred thousand years, she had no idea what they were saying.
She was a benevolent person that loves all things in this world. Although they were, no doubt acting quite unruly, she had no intentions of punishing them in anger.
She continued walking.
---
Looking at the fairy threading across the moat on foot, these elite border guards had complicated feelings. They did not know why she was not afraid of the sharp arrows in their hand, or how she could walk on water.
A knight that had achieved bishophood cried out a word. The fairy supposed this word meant “Loose!” or something similar. The soldiers simultaneously released their bowstrings without thinking. They had to close their eyes after the arrow was in flight for fear that they would destroy such a beautiful woman.
Hundreds of arrows fell towards her, but it didn’t even ruffle her clothes. There was no bleeding, nor did she drop into the moat. There was not a sound of an impact either. The arrows, as if interfered by fate, harmlessly missed her body, whistling past her clothes, earlobes, and thigh entering into the moat.
The moat’s bottom was stuck full of arrows, but a distinct absence of it could be seen in the fairy’s shadow.
Not even Julia, the natural world, or any other saint, could behave as calmly as the fairy had. Other than the fairy, no one was blessed by the world so as that all the thousands of arrows would miss.
The will of these border guards were simultaneously broken. They were trained to be able to prevent a saint from passing through or at least stall them for some time. Yet this fairy before them was continuing to walk without the slightest change in her pace.
A moment later, she had crossed the fortress walls and went into the city.
The border guards continue to chase her in the streets of the city, yet strangely, could never catch up to the speed of her footsteps. If they were not feeling such fear at this moment, they would no doubt be incredibly angry, as the fairy showed a complete disregard, treating them the same as one would to a rock by the roadside.
An old man in clerical clothes was sitting within the fortress-palace. He was one of the four illustrious saints that reside in the human kingdoms and owned vast tracts of land. Although in recent years, the young Kaiser had been challenging the Pope, even involving the last human saint, he had not acted at all. That was as he was already far older than the Pope, having his moment in the sun some one hundred and ten thousand years ago.
There were over twenty bishops guarding him. They had been alerted by the border guards of an unknown threat through the city beacons and arrived to protect the aging saint.
At this moment, they saw the woman. She looked so out of this world that it was completely impossible to ignore her.
With a shout, the bishops gathered in a formation, preparing to defend the saint bitterly, even though it was only a girl walking amid the city streets. It was eerie.
Just like the border guards, the will of these bishops immediately broke upon looking at her face - even their hands, usually stable from hours of meditation, was shaking.
They were the core of the lofty saint’s retainers. They even had two half-saints elsewhere in the city. They were so strong some smaller countries could be eliminated by their presence alone. Even the Kaiser and Pope had to treat them respectfully. However, they were looking at a girl and despairing because of her, which confused them and made their morale even weaker.
The old saint looked at the girl in shock, his wrinkles growing deeper and his eyes sinking into their sockets. It was as though he was looking at some being that should not exist in this world.
Only saints truly understood the significance of appearance.
To reach the extreme of something must mean one is beyond ordinary.
Whether tall, short, thin or fat, with enough distinction in their appearance, an equally unusual element must exist in their soul.
Beauty was naturally the most desired extreme. Whether it be from a painting or a mountain, man would inevitably desire it. For a person to reach such a degree of beauty, there must be something extraordinary about her.
The old saint knew of only one person who was beautiful, so extraordinary. Upon seeing her, he figured out who she was in a second.
He hurriedly got off his chair and bowed down in the most humble of manners. He cried out with a hoarse voice, “Lady Theresa… I will go cook immediately.”