Hundreds of kilometers away, a black tower was shrouded in clouds.
In the chamber at the top, many even blacker candles burned, yet they cast an eerie red light.
A woman in a black gauze dress sat with languid grace on a stone chair.
With crimson eyes she studied a mirror before her, its surface crowded with reflections of countless candle flames.
The mirrors brimmed with scenes—giants, a volcano—as if seen from surveillance feeds.
Her figure was willowy; her jet-black hair trailed on the floor. She looked serene and elegant, like a peerless beauty who'd walked out of a painting.
Gazing at the largest mirror, she frowned. The stone armrest beneath her black nails bore fresh claw marks.
The final scene before an Apostle turned to dust was frozen on the glass.
"Who? Who is that musclebound man? He hardly seems human… My strongest Apostle was crushed by him!"
Her voice flowed from red lips, pleasant to the ear yet sharp with anger.
Behind her stood a middle-aged man in a tailcoat. He observed, "Miss, that masked man's body is formidable, and his Cosmo is extremely strong. He should be one of the Sanctuary's Gold Saints, though his identity is unclear. Shall I act?"
"No need. We don't have to show ourselves. The Apostle has perished; it's no use now."
"But I've remembered his face. If we see him again, kill on sight. We have more important matters."
The woman's tone drifted. "Is the giants' sacrifice complete?"
The man nodded. "Yes, the giant sacrifice is done. Miss, we can enjoy the show. However, we detected a Gold Saint—the Sanctuary sent another Gold Saint."
A cruel look filled the woman's face. "It doesn't matter. Once the giant awakens, no Gold Saint will stand against him!"
The man bowed. "Then please enjoy the performance. The giant will overturn the entire Sanctuary and fulfill my Lord's desire."
.
"Mm…"
Through a haze, Marin felt a big hand press to her brow. Then came a touch like warm spring water washing creamy skin, spreading from the crown of her head.
A warm current flowed from that hand through her limbs to the crown of her skull; clarity flooded her mind. Eyes closed, she drank in the feeling.
In her awareness it was like the sea surf—one wave after another—until she felt herself immersed in a bath of warm bliss.
So comfortable!
Like soaking in a hot spring.
Soon a cool sensation swept through her whole body, and vitality burst within.
Ah!
Marin's eyes flew open.
Where… is this place?
Ahead stood the back of a cloaked man. His whole body was hidden beneath the cloak—mysterious.
Did he save me?
Images flickered in her mind: she and a Gold Saint besieged; she was heavily wounded by an Apostle and desperately sought help from the Gold Saint—who didn't respond. She then met a powerfully built man of pure muscle—those pecs…
Am I confused?
Why do I remember only two pecs?
Her gaze quickly cooled and cleared. Looking inward, aside from a slight soreness at her shoulder, she was nearly healed; even her Cosmo had recovered a good bit.
Was that all thanks to this mysterious man?
"Why do I feel a chill?"
She glanced down and blinked.
Her garments had been badly torn in the fight with the Apostle; now they barely covered her, skin like snow laid bare.
But aside from some dried blood, the wounds were fully healed. Especially at the shoulder—only a faint scar remained.
Marin's cool, pale cheeks turned apple-red in an instant; her eyes shifted; her bearing turned bashful—stunningly so.
Her mask was still on—he hadn't removed it.
He hadn't done anything improper?
She was shy because her figure was striking—any man would stare.
She remembered only a big hand pressing her brow.
How strange…
Just then, the cloaked man turned and approached, a mask on his face and a slip of paper in hand.
Marin looked at the paper he held out.
Lowering her eyes, she read the lines:
[For the sake of the plot and Seiya's mental health, I saved you. No thanks necessary.]
[The evil god is about to revive. Get out—now!]
Handing over the note, the masked man turned to leave.
"Wait!"
Marin sensed something amiss. "You must be a Saint. Take off your mask—let me see who you are."
A lonely shadow on a cold river, an old friend on the jianghu—why insist on names when meeting again as strangers.
The surname is Lei!
Damian had meant to hide his merit and name, but Marin sprang forward, blocking his path, chest squared.
"Do I know you?"
Marin stared fixedly at the stranger's chest, as if hunting for proof.
Though he radiated obvious Cosmo, those two signature pecs felt familiar, forcing her to suspect his identity.
Troublesome woman. If you weren't tied to Seiya's storyline, I'd just slap you away.
Seeing she wouldn't let up—
Damian simply snapped his arm and loosed a lightspeed knife-hand, knocking her out cold.
To keep the plot on track, he didn't want Marin running into trouble—so he had stepped in to heal her.
Watching her go limp again, he picked her up, ready to carry her to a safe place.
If you're going to do it, see it through.
Suddenly, a golden figure dropped from the sky, a Cosmo full of pressure following in its wake.
Damian ducked on instinct, barely avoiding an arcing golden sword-light.
The golden arc didn't slow, carving the low hill ahead clean in half.
"Put Marin down, Apostle!"
An icy male voice followed.
Turning, he set Marin down.
Damian ran a hand through his slightly mussed hair—only to find a small lock had been sliced off.
"Trying to ambush me?"
He spun and snapped his hand up—firing a Great Horn behind him.
The savage lightspeed blow blasted dirt and stone and sent the attacker flying.
Even hit, he landed lightly.
Because he wore a gleaming Gold Cloth.
The man's face showed surprise. "Lightspeed punches? Who are you?"
"Only now you ask who I am?"
"Shura, you almost turned me bald. Any last words?"
As Damian spoke, his muscles surged, Cosmo blazed, and the Muscle Cloth surfaced.
He was mad.
Heads may roll, blood may flow—but the hairstyle must not get messed up!
(End of Chapter)
[Get +20 Extra Chapters On — P@tr3on "Mutter"]
[Every 100 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]
[Thanks for Reading!]