Chapter 5
Chapter 5: The Saint Who Commands Flame
Hien stood in Cynthia’s office. After watching her leave, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
His body was still somewhat stiff, as if he could still feel the temperature of her fingertips and that subtle sense of oppression.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, then began looking around.
A person’s private space would reflect their personality to some extent—observing Cynthia’s room could help him better understand this saint.
Cynthia’s office was spacious and tidy. The decor wasn’t luxurious, but it revealed a kind of understated authority everywhere.
On the office wall hung a huge painting embroidered with the holy image of the Goddess of Light. The goddess held a scepter and stood atop dark creatures symbolizing evil.
Hien stared at the Goddess of Light’s face somewhat absently, recalling the deity who had reincarnated him into another time and space, wondering if there was any connection between the two.
According to legend, several hundred years ago, unexplainable black fog began appearing at the edges of the Hermes Continent. This fog would corrupt the land, erode the minds and bodies of animals and plants, and transform them into bloodthirsty magical beasts.
These magical beasts had once driven humanity to the brink of extinction. When humans were about to be wiped out, the Goddess of Light descended upon the world and taught humans magic. The first humans to master magic were called mages, and they united to drive back the magical beasts, preserving humanity’s last spark.
These original mages were the most devout believers of the Goddess of Light. Before the goddess fell into slumber, she chose twelve of the most devout and pure mages and bestowed power upon them. These mages came to be known by later generations as the “Original Saints.”
The saints and mages established an organization called the Temple of Light to worship the Goddess of Light, train mages, maintain the world, and resist the invasion of magical beasts.
After hundreds of years of development, magic had become integrated into people’s daily lives, becoming an inseparable part of them. Since only female mages had the power to fight magical beasts and protect humanity, this world gradually came to be dominated by female mages, and the Temple of Light became an authority that transcended nations.
Therefore, this world became one where women were revered, while men performed daily tasks like production and logistics.
The families of the saints divided the power of the Temple of Light and used special methods like bloodline magic to ensure that each generation’s saints would awaken within their own families to maintain their status.
Cynthia was one of the twelve saints—the saint who commanded flame.
Of course, using magic wasn’t without side effects. The source of magic power was the elemental force existing in the world. Mages converted elemental power into magic power through the magical source within their bodies, and maintaining this process required mental power support. To some extent, consuming magic power equaled consuming mental power.
The stronger a mage’s mental power, the stronger their abilities, but mental power consumption also brought side effects like mental instability and approaching collapse. Therefore, potions, crystals, and targeted magic were constantly needed for soothing. Once mental power consumption broke through the critical point, mages would suffer mental collapse and become irrational demons, and demons had only one thought—to eliminate humanity.
In other words, if a mage had inexhaustible mental power, it would represent extraordinary strength. The power of Cynthia’s Crimson Heaven’s Punishment was something few even among the saints could unleash.
This was also why Cynthia had to control Hien at all costs.
Hien unconsciously reached out to touch the image of the Goddess of Light. The edges of the painting were embroidered with complex runes using gold thread, emanating faint magical fluctuations.
He knew these runes weren’t just decoration, but powerful defensive magic that could block outside prying and interference.
Cynthia’s office wasn’t just where she handled affairs—it was a stage for displaying her power and faith.
In this magic world where women were revered and men were subservient, Cynthia’s existence almost symbolized supreme authority and sanctity.
On the adjacent wall hung several ancient oil paintings depicting figures mostly dressed in magical armor—all women with determined gazes and upright postures. Their only common feature was brilliant crimson hair like Cynthia’s flames. Without thinking, one could tell these were previous generations of flame saints.
On Cynthia’s desk lay several thick books, mostly academic works with titles like “Research on Mage Mental Power” and “Knight Order Strategic History.”
The edges of the pages were somewhat worn, clearly frequently consulted.
Hien casually opened one and found several handwritten notes tucked between the pages. The handwriting was neat and forceful, mostly thoughts on how to improve mage combat efficiency and team cooperation.
He noticed that Cynthia’s notes repeatedly mentioned “mental power overdraft” and “soothing,” clearly indicating she had long been researching this special ability.
Could it be that someone else had possessed similar abilities before this?
On the other side of the room was a bookshelf. Besides books, it also held several small objects.
One was a worn-out doll. The doll’s ears were already frayed, and there were several mended patches on its body, yet it was well-preserved.
Hien picked up the doll and found its eyes were sewn with two black buttons. Though crude, it gave off a warm feeling.
He guessed this might be Cynthia’s childhood toy, perhaps her only remaining childhood memory.
On the top shelf of the bookcase sat a photo album. Hien stood on tiptoe to retrieve it and gently opened it.
The album mostly contained photos of Cynthia from her younger days. In the photos, she always stood at the edge of crowds, her gaze stern and expression indifferent.
Only one photo was different—it showed her with an older woman.
In the photo, Cynthia looked only seven or eight years old, standing beside the woman with a rare smile on her face.
The woman’s features resembled Cynthia’s somewhat, but her eyes revealed deep fatigue and helplessness.
Hien closed the album, gradually forming a vague picture in his mind.
Cynthia’s childhood wasn’t happy. Perhaps her mother died early, or the family was full of power struggles.
She was forced to learn independence from a young age, to hide her emotions, to use a cold exterior to protect herself.
Her goals were clear and firm—pursuing powerful strength and grasping the highest authority.
And his own constitution was the key to her achieving those goals.
Hien recalled Cynthia’s expressions and tone when talking with him. She always wore a subtle smile, but her eyes revealed unquestionable determination.
Every word she spoke seemed like a test, yet also like guidance, as if she had already anticipated Hien’s reactions.
Hien realized that Cynthia chose to control him not only because of his abilities, but because she had spotted that barely perceptible vulnerability within him.
She perhaps believed that by grasping this vulnerability, she could completely control him.
This vulnerability was obviously Lufia.
Thinking of this, complex emotions stirred in Hien’s heart.
He both admired Cynthia’s strategy and perseverance, yet was wary of her desire for control.
Cynthia’s childhood experiences had shaped her current personality—she craved power not just to achieve her ambitions, but to fill some void deep in her heart.
Her family had perhaps never given her sufficient recognition, so she had always been proving her worth by making others submit.
Hien took a deep breath and closed the album in his hands, returning it to its place.
Now he had a deeper understanding of Cynthia.
Honestly, he had chosen quite a difficult target to conquer from the start.
This flame saint was powerful and beautiful, seemingly impregnable yet not without flaws.
Her strengths were equally her fatal weaknesses.
This made things interesting, didn’t it?