Chapter 64: Crimson and Shadow
“Remember something? My Lady Saint.”
Ardur’s voice pulled Cynthia back to reality. He had somehow entered the cell and was crouching in front of her, the dagger’s tip lightly lifting her chin.
“What a perfect plan, wasn’t it? Let an illegitimate child die bearing the traitor’s name while reclaiming the Crimson Saint’s authority… Your aunt will become a hero, and we will get what we want.”
“You won’t succeed.”
Cynthia stared directly into Ardur’s eyes. Though her body was weak, her gaze remained sharp as a blade, her voice becoming hoarse.
“The Radiant Cathedral won’t stand by and watch.”
“The Radiant Cathedral?”
Ardur suddenly burst into laughter, his voice full of mockery as he wiped away tears of laughter.
“The Radiant Cathedral doesn’t care who the Crimson Saint is—they only care that a Crimson Saint exists.”
Cynthia was momentarily speechless. Ardur’s words left her unable to refute.
Like this trap—she had originally thought it was simply her aunt’s faction seizing power, but seeing Ardur made her realize that all of this was actually controlled by the Ouroboros Cult from behind the scenes.
This organization should have been completely destroyed hundreds of years ago, yet it had been hiding and growing stronger in secret. If they had already begun infiltrating the Celeste family thirty years ago, might they have also infiltrated the upper levels of the Radiant Cathedral?
“Since the Lady Saint’s attitude is so firm, I’ll have to properly discipline you.”
Ardur’s mouth slowly curved upward.
“You think I’d be afraid?”
Cynthia’s body instinctively trembled, but she gritted her teeth, her ruby-like eyes staring straight at Ardur.
“Don’t worry. Don’t think I’m the shallow type who tortures the flesh—I prefer to start from the mental level.”
Ardur noticed Cynthia’s reaction. He licked the dagger’s tip, stood up, and tilted his head as if trying to recall someone’s name.
“So I have news to tell you. That lovely friend of yours with mental soothing abilities has arrived in Celeste City. What was his name… Sean?”
“Sean…?”
Cynthia’s body suddenly stiffened.
“That’s right, Sean.”
Ardur folded his arms, looking down at her.
“That foolish boy rushed here the moment he heard news of your impending execution. Such touching… stupidity.”
“Impossible… how could he know…”
Cynthia felt dizzy, whether from dehydration or sudden shock.
“Of course we deliberately leaked the information, dear Lady Saint.”
Ardur spread his arms with a delighted expression.
“We needed a reason to lure him out of the Radiant Cathedral. You know, authority saints are quite troublesome—we couldn’t make our move there conveniently, until you became the bait.”
“If you dare touch a single hair on his head…”
Cynthia’s breathing became rapid, the chains making harsh sounds as she struggled.
“Oh?”
Ardur raised an eyebrow, leaning down to whisper in Cynthia’s ear.
“It seems you care quite a bit about this boy. Then I’ll slowly kill him in front of you. I imagine the Crimson Saint’s breakdown will be quite interesting~”
Cynthia suddenly tried to headbutt Ardur, but he was prepared and easily dodged before straightening up.
“It’s getting late, Lady Saint. You should rest well and prepare for tomorrow’s trial, because there will be a very spectacular show then~”
Ardur straightened his collar and turned toward the cell door, then suddenly stopped.
“By the way, my offer remains valid until tomorrow’s trial. Think it over carefully—submit to me, or die in humiliation.”
With the iron door’s loud clang, the dungeon fell silent again. Cynthia hung her head weakly, moonlight shining on her trembling shoulders.
“Sean… you idiot… why did you come…”
The Saint murmured, her voice carrying unprecedented vulnerability.
“Isn’t this just walking into a trap? What are you even thinking?”
The chains were ice-cold and bone-piercing, yet Cynthia felt a strange warmth rise in her heart. When everyone had betrayed her, it was this boy who risked danger to save her, even though she had only considered him a tool for improving her strength.
For a moment, gratitude and annoyance intertwined in her chest—angry at his recklessness, yet craving this only warmth in her desperate situation.
“Sean isn’t an idiot.”
Just then, a cool female voice suddenly rang out. Cynthia looked up alertly to see the shadows in the corner begin to writhe strangely, that patch of darkness climbing upward like liquid, gradually forming a vague human outline.
As the voice faded, a white-haired girl fully emerged from the darkness. She wore tight black clothing, her skin so pale it was almost transparent, with only those purple eyes flickering with light in the darkness.
“You are… the Eclipse Saint… Skadi?”
Cynthia drew in a sharp breath.
Though she had never seen Skadi, someone who could manipulate shadows at will, combined with this magical power fluctuation no less than her own, made her immediately think of this supposedly non-existent “thirteenth saint.”
The girl nodded expressionlessly, her body still half-merged with the shadows as if she might disappear at any moment.
“Wait, why would you say Sean… as if you know each other…”
Cynthia suddenly raised her head, the chains clanking with her movement. She narrowed her eyes, warily studying the white-haired girl before her. Suddenly, as if realizing something, her red pupils contracted sharply, her lips parting slightly.
“You’re with Sean now?”
“Yes.”
Skadi’s voice was as calm as still water, not even her eyelashes trembling. She briefly explained her purpose, and when mentioning her inability to break the chains, her gaze lingered for a moment on the shackles around Cynthia’s wrists.
“Why do you know Sean?”
But Cynthia completely ignored all this. She leaned forward urgently, the chains pulled taut, her voice unconsciously rising an octave, her brow furrowed.
“It’s a long story. Now that I’ve found your location, my task is complete. I can’t stay here too long.”
Skadi shook her head slightly, her white hair shimmering in the moonlight. Her figure began to blur, as if about to merge into the shadows.
“Wait.”
Cynthia called out anxiously, the chains rattling loudly.
“Oh right, Sean asked me to give you a message.”
Skadi’s figure was already half-transparent, but she still stopped, speaking in her completely flat tone.
“What message?”
Cynthia held her breath, unconsciously biting her lower lip.
“Sean said, tomorrow’s trial—the key is him.”
Skadi repeated it word for word, her voice light as a breeze.
“The key to the trial is Sean?”
Cynthia murmured the words, her brow furrowed. She was about to ask more questions when she realized the shadow before her had completely dissipated, as if everything just now had been an illusion.
The dungeon returned to silence, leaving only the soft clinking of chains. Cynthia lowered her head, her crimson hair falling beside her cheeks.
“Key… Sean…”
She whispered softly, then suddenly her body trembled violently, her pupils contracting sharply as if thinking of some shocking possibility.
“Could it be…”