Chapter 152
A woman with her pink hair pulled back tightly looked out over the vast flower garden.
Flowers dyed a soft pink, red like roses but paler in hue.
The Saintess's gaze as she looked upon them was deeply tranquil.
"Those who cannot see, cannot hear, and cannot speak..."
The Saintess was at the underground garden where Lacus's Tears were planted.
And the statues radiating divine power positioned throughout the garden.
The Saintess's eyes fell upon them.
Looking at those who had turned into holy stones themselves, the Saintess waited for the man approaching her.
His two eyes gouged out.
His two ears severed.
A man holding a spear, his tongue cut out.
The Garden of Lacus.
The sole gatekeeper guarding that place.
The gatekeeper is the one guarding the vault where the holy water resides.
Even if the one approaching were the Emperor himself, he would raise his spear and block the door.
"Even if you cannot see, hear, or speak, you should know it's me."
The bastard who levels his spear even at the Emperor.
That is the true gatekeeper guarding the holy water.
The Saintess had no choice but to draw her spear.
The Saintess's holy spear.
Raphael.
Boom!
A single thrust.
The gatekeeper blocked it, but he was sent crashing down.
The hand gripping his spear trembled violently.
The Saintess looked down at the fallen gatekeeper with a mournful gaze, then turned to the garden.
There, people were diligently fumbling about, tending and cultivating the flowers.
They were slaves bereft of eyes, their ears severed, their tongues ripped out.
Those who worked like slaves were once valiant warriors who had charged across battlefields, and guardians who had roamed the forests.
But now, they could only crawl on the ground, plucking flower petals with their few remaining fingers.
'It is only natural for the Empire.'
Words spoken by the Emperor.
For the Empire. For Lacus.
Turning defeated soldiers into slaves and utilizing them was only natural logic.
For even the Emperor had said he did not wish to sacrifice his own people.
"It's truly unpleasant every time I see it."
Wearing an expression that said it was hard to watch, the Saintess gathered a few of the hundreds of holy water vials stacked in the vault.
The holy water vials suspended between her delicate hands vanished into thin air.
It was a phenomenon akin to magic, but there was no one nearby to witness it.
"Keep up the good work, then."
Though no one would hear it.
The Saintess spoke thus and departed.
* * *
The Colosseum of Boltan.
A place where countless slaves gathered to fight dozens, even hundreds of times a day.
Their statuses varied from slaves to mercenaries and fallen nobles, but the one task for those standing in the Colosseum was singular.
"Die!!"
To kill the opponent facing them.
To soak the earth with their opponent's blood.
—Waaaaaaaaah!!
With that, the crowd roared with excitement and fanaticism.
"They say the Saintess also fought in this Colosseum a few years ago and crushed every strong one."
"That's right, I know that story too. It was a famous tale once. Truly incredible."
Aldu and Pilo watched the Colosseum's battles. Seeing the blood-soaked gladiators fight, they recalled the famous tale.
The Saintess of the Spear.
The hidden story of her rise.
One day, a pink-haired woman appeared abruptly and stood tall with naught but a single spear.
Vicious criminals, retired soldiers, defeated soldiers, one-armed knights. And so forth.
She vanquished foes that would be difficult for a woman's frame to handle.
As she continued her undefeated march and rose to fame, the Spear of the Empire, having taken interest, appeared before her.
She delivered a result that no one could have anticipated.
'The Spear of the Empire, Broken.'
It was an incident that sent massive shockwaves throughout the Empire, enough to make the newspapers print it in bold headlines.
And so, she became a knight, then the Spear of the Empire, and ultimately, a Saintess.
In a short span of time, she left behind numerous legendary feats, and with each one, she grew stronger.
Someone once said.
'She is stacking realms.'
To the point of saying so, there seemed to be no limit to her growth.
The Saintess still.
"Rumors are rampant that she is still growing stronger."
A bestseller chronicling the Saintess's anecdotes. The man who had read the column on the Saintess of the Spear tilted his head.
A man wearing a hood over a pure white robe.
Blending in among the spectators, the man lost in thought could not hide his bewilderment as he recalled her tale.
"Was there a route like this?"
He was the Sword of Carpe.
A new transcendent some called the Ashen Knight.
Callius von Zerban.
'Saintess.'
The more he learned of her anecdotes, the more perplexed he became.
Should he say she was like a being that grew stronger by shattering the balance?
Of course, there was bound to be some exaggeration, but even taking that into consideration, her growth and feats were astonishingly remarkable.
'5 years.'
Were these truly the achievements a single person could accomplish in a mere 5 years?
Moreover, light pink hair.
Callius felt an even deeper sense of doubt regarding that hair color.
It was impossible for human hair to be light pink.
There were quite a diverse array of races in this world, but he had never heard of a pure human's hair being that color.
'I never set it that way either.'
Of course.
If she was not human, that was a different story.
"Oh, there he comes out. I bet on that guy. Looks super strong, right?"
"What are you talking about? His muscles are just big with no definition. I bet on that guy."
The one Aldu pointed out was a fighter who appeared to be a somewhat lean man.
Unusually, he was holding a staff.
'A staff?'
The staff that man was holding.
It looked like a staff he had seen somewhere before.
'Where have I seen it?'
Just as he paused to ponder.
Waaaaah!
Cheers erupted from the stands.
"Ooh! As expected!"
Aldu was ecstatic, while Pilo despaired.
Because the fighter with the staff had knocked his opponent unconscious in a single strike.
'Why is she there?'
Callius called over a nearby gambling broker and bet half his entire fortune on the staff-wielding fighter.
She was the woman who had been the Floor Master of the 61st floor.
Ovarna.
"Come to think of it, was it Ovarna's fate to get caught up in pointless incidents? Or was it a trait? There was something like that."
Probably because of that.
There was a high probability she had unintentionally ended up a fighter in the Colosseum.
Her trait was like that, and her very personality was easily swept up in the atmosphere, so she was a woman who wouldn't be out of place appearing anywhere.
Of course, he had never dreamed she would appear here.
'None of my business.'
Regardless of why she was in the Empire or why she was fighting here, it was a chance to make a hefty sum of money.
A moment later.
Beneath the hood, his *Jaean* shifted to a violet hue, growing even more sensitive to energy.
With that, sensing the unprecedented divine power welling up from beneath the Colosseum, he held a strong conviction.
The more blood was splattered.
The aura of divine power surging from underground subtly grew stronger.
Subtly enough that ordinary people couldn't feel it.
Even a Master who had transcended humanity would likely not sense it easily.
It was a faint aura, like catching the scent of wine from a corked bottle.
The only ones possessing such a keen aura perception were fairies.
But fairies took no interest in divine power and never appeared in the human world, meaning there was only one who could sense this aura.
A human possessing both fairy power and divine power.
In this world, that would be Callius alone.
"It's no different."
Lacus's Garden is underground.
Beneath this very Colosseum.
Then there was only one problem.
'I need to find the entrance.'
The past month.
He had quietly slipped into the Empire.
It was not as difficult as he had thought.
His aura perception had grown far keener than before he became a Master, and concealing his presence was as easy as closing his eyes.
Furthermore, with the Iron Monarch at his disposal, diverting the army's attention elsewhere was no difficult task.
Thus.
He was able to reach Boltan more swiftly and safely, and slipped into the Colosseum disguised as a spectator.
Honestly, up to this point, everything had gone as expected.
It had been incredibly easy.
But the problem began now.
'Finding the entrance...'
Even Callius did not know where the entrance was. It would take a considerable amount of time to uncover.
Of course, if he employed a slightly more drastic method, it would cease to be a problem.
For instance.
"Should I just smash it all."
He knew it was beneath the Colosseum.
So what if he just destroyed everything? Wouldn't that solve everything in one fell swoop?
'Of course, I can't do that.'
No matter how strong he had become, this was Boltan.
Strict security aside, it was a place where strong individuals lurked unseen.
If by some chance the Saintess was here, it would definitely become a headache.
Just as he thought it would indeed be better to take his time safely searching for the entrance.
—Ooh! Number 193! She takes a hit for the first time today!!
The Colosseum's announcer hollered.
Number 193.
The Master wielding the staff Callius had bet his money on.
The leather armor of Ovarna, the Floor Master of the 61st floor, was half-torn away.
Standing before her was a gladiator.
Strangely, the opponent was also a woman who looked awfully familiar.
Water-blue hair glistening brilliantly in the sunlight.
A woman with skin like white jade, curling the corners of her pink lips as if she was having the time of her life.
Callius jumped up involuntarily and scowled.
"Why the hell are you coming out there?"
Ovarna's opponent was none other than Carpe's Saintess candidate.
No, she who had solidified her position to the point she could now be called a Saintess.
The Saintess of the Sword.
Esther Sol Cilliad.
"Someone you know?"
"……"
At Pilo's question, Callius kept his mouth shut. Seeing this, Pilo felt the Dragon-man's intuition and bet his entire fortune.
They seemed to know each other, and since she also wielded a sword, she had to be an acquaintance of Callius.
A swordsman that Callius knew.
Which meant she was obviously a powerhouse!!
"Six thousand gold coins on the water-haired one!"
A so-called underdog bet.
Pilo immediately wagered all his remaining money.
It was only natural that Esther, who had just stepped out, had higher odds than the continuously winning Ovarna.
Matching Pilo's gamble, Callius also handed over half of his wealth.
No matter who won, Callius had no intention of taking a loss from the bet.
And Callius immediately sensed it.
'As expected, you too are a Saintess.'
The aura emanating from Esther.
The profound aura possessed only by those who had shattered the wall proved she was a Master.
The corners of Callius's lips curled into a grin.
"It should be fine to cause a little chaos."
Somehow, it felt like things were going to get far more entertaining than he had anticipated.