Nine Summers of Divine Punishment

Wakako once thought those days would never change, but the present was no longer the past.

She was no longer a servant of the Saionji or Kitagawa clans, and the Saint had become the Saint of the Eagle Kingdom.

After the Hyman wedding ceremony, Miki had released Liu Siruo, but kept Wakako confined to the Saint’s courtyard, forbidding her to leave.

When Wakako asked why, the Saint simply continued painting, saying softly, “Three days.”

Watercolors blended, bringing the floral scene to life on paper. Where the Saint was, flowers could bloom even in the coldest winter.

“After three days, you are free to go or stay, as you wish.”

Miki put down her brush, examining her work with dissatisfaction. She tore it off and set it aside.

She sighed. “The pigments here in the Eagle Kingdom are inferior to those in Mios. The colors always seem dull.”

Wakako stood beside Miki, staring at her face. After a while, she asked confusedly, “What do you want me to do during my heat?”

Earlier, when she had been punished for repeatedly mentioning her senior sister, Miki’s lips had lingered on her face, whispering guidance, telling her where to touch, “Hold on tight.”

What little pride Wakako had as an Alpha had vanished in Miki’s hands. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to cry, but the cherry-scented pheromones always managed to soothe her in time.

This had happened just a short while ago, yet now they stood in the courtyard, as if nothing had happened.

Wakako’s voice was hoarse from crying out during her punishment.

“You were alive all this time. Why didn’t you look for me for five years…?”

When Wakako had seen Miki in the Eagle Kingdom’s royal palace, she had assumed Miki was being coerced, perhaps by the traitorous Saburo Saionji.

But the elaborate scheme involving the Hyman wedding, designed to bolster the morale of the Eagle Kingdom, couldn’t have been accomplished without the Saint’s willing cooperation.

Knowing Miki as she did, Wakako suspected that this might even have been her own doing…

Miki’s allegiance seemed clear, yet Wakako clung to a sliver of hope.

“Because the Saint of Mios died five years ago,” Miki stated calmly. “I now belong to the Eagle Kingdom.”

Their master’s suspicions had been correct.

The Saint had indeed switched sides.

Wakako felt a surge of disbelief, her blood running cold. “Why?” she asked, unable to comprehend. “You were the Saint of Mios, revered by all its people…”

“Little Waka, was Mios ever kind to me? You’ve been with me for five years, you should know.”

“I understand, but surely the Eagle Kingdom isn’t…”

“They’re all the same, but what does it matter?” Miki picked up her brush again, lightly sketching an outline on a fresh sheet of paper. “It’s quite interesting to watch them slaughter each other.”

Her expression showed little concern.

Wakako’s heart suddenly grew cold. She could no longer suppress her emotions. She rushed forward, pushing aside the easel and gripping Miki’s hands tightly.

Red marks appeared on the fair wrists. This was the first time she had treated the Saint so roughly.

Her voice trembled. “Did you deliberately orchestrate this for the Eagle Kingdom?”

Miki’s expression remained unchanged, calm as still water:

“Yes, I even suggested the pretext for their upcoming military campaign. Mios has lost God’s favor, allowing the Eagle Kingdom to produce a second Saint in just five years. What do you think of this excuse? Is it convincing enough?”

“…Why? The people are innocent…”

Miki winced in pain from Wakako’s grip, her face paling slightly, yet her smile remained radiant.

“You pity them?” Miki asked. “But Little Waka, have you ever counted how many people you’ve killed?”

Wakako was a mercenary, renowned for her combat prowess even among her peers.

Of course, she had killed for the Queen.

Corrupt Mios officials, hidden traitors, Eagle Kingdom generals… all had fallen by her hand. And the countless nameless soldiers she had slain on the battlefield were beyond counting.

“I know you did it for your Kingdom. But how is it fundamentally different?”

Miki’s eyes curved in amusement, as if discussing a trivial matter. “Are the lives of Mios citizens somehow more valuable than those of the Eagle Kingdom?”

Wakako was speechless. “But we are citizens of Mios…”

“No.”

Miki’s voice was sharp, cutting her off.

“I am the Saint, a once-in-a-century phenomenon. And you…”

The hand Miki was holding somehow found strength to grip Wakako back.

“You don’t belong to Mios. You belong to me.”

Even in this moment, Miki maintained her composure, her smile serene and befitting a noble lady. Only the rare rise in her voice betrayed her true emotions.

“You’ve been by my side since you were thirteen. I gave you your name, you’ve tasted my blood, and only my touch can inflict pain on you. We made a vow to each other, have you forgotten?”

Miki leaned in, asking quizzically.

She was shorter than the Alpha and had to stand on her tiptoes to reach Wakako’s nose.

“Do you consider yourself a mercenary now, a citizen of Mios?” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “Are you close to your fellow mercenaries? Do you consider them family? What do you plan to do after you retire? Marry an omega and have children?”

Miki still wanted to meticulously control every aspect of her life, just like before.

Despite being bombarded with so many questions, Wakako felt an unexpected calmness wash over her.

“Miki,” she said suddenly, “you rarely make prophecies, but you performed the ritual once, five years ago.”

“You saw the Jinxin Raid.”

It was a statement, not a question.

The Jinxin Raid, the devastating attack on Mios’s armory five years ago, orchestrated by the Eagle Kingdom in collaboration with traitors from the Saionji clan, had plunged the entire Kingdom into chaos.

How could the Saint, with her abilities, have failed to foresee such a catastrophic event?

“Your suggestion that we run away back then was just a ruse. Your real intention was to use the chaos of the Jinxin raid to defect to the Eagle Kingdom, wasn’t it?”

She saw Miki’s pupils dilate.

Yes.

Five years ago, the Saint of the Saionji clan and her young guard had planned a secret elopement.

From the capital of Mios to Jinxin, they had disguised themselves and journeyed through dangerous territory.

The Saint body was delicate, but Wakako could endure hardship. Even carrying her for great distances, she never felt tired.

They were eventually caught at the port of Jinxin by the Saionji clan. Ichiro, the family head, personally aimed his bow and arrow, intending to kill Wakako.

Unbeknownst to Wakako, the Saint had untied the rope of their small boat and, with all her might, pushed Wakako away. She then collapsed onto the shore, coughing up blood.

The strong currents quickly capsized the boat, and Wakako was thrown into the water. She struggled to stay afloat, miraculously surviving the ordeal.

Taking advantage of the chaos in Jinxin, she evaded capture. She desperately tried to find news of the Saint, but all she received was news of her death.

In that moment, Wakako almost wanted to die too.

But the Saint had once told her that if anything happened, she should join the mercenary recruitment and live under a different identity. Mercenaries needed not only fighting skills but also literacy, which the Saint had personally taught her.

Torn between life and death, Wakako cried countless times, eventually choosing to follow the path Miki had laid out for her.

But she never imagined that it wasn’t a path to safety, but a predetermined destintation.

It turned out that the Saint’s plan to escape had never included her.

“…”

Miki remained silent for a long time.

Wakako slowly released her grip, unsure what emotion to show.

“Did you really deceive me?” she asked.

“You always asked me so many questions, demanding promises from me. I almost thought you cared about me…” Wakako felt a sharp pain in her chest, each heartbeat more unbearable than the last. “But you were planning to abandon me all along.”

She suddenly felt foolish.

Both the naive Wakako from five years ago, who had foolishly offered to take Miki away, and the Wakako of today, who still considered Miki her master.

Both were so foolish.

Miki’s lips seemed to quiver slightly, but she ultimately remained silent, swallowing whatever she had wanted to say.