Chapter 123
Miki wanted to raise her hand to wipe away Wakako’s flowing tears but had no strength. Her fingertips remained stuck to the blood-soaked scroll, immobile until it drained completely.
By the moonlight, Wakako’s blurred vision focused on Miki’s pale face.
She hadn’t seen her this weak in a long time.
Wakako wasn’t stupid. She recognized the corpse as the Saburo and saw her wife’s face on the fallen wooden statue.
It was Miki’s face.
She instantly understood what Miki had done.
“You… don’t want to be Lady Kitagawa?” she heard herself ask hollowly. “Is what I’ve given you still not enough?”
It was Miki who had initially proposed of, and it was Miki who had held onto her desperately. Wakako had assumed she no longer cared about fame or fortune, otherwise, she wouldn’t have wanted to retreat to the mountains.
She believed they had gotten what they wanted.
Wasn’t it enough that Miki was no longer a Saint bound by restrictions? Why would she willingly repeat the same path?
“No…”
Just shaking her head exhausted all Miki’s energy. She only smiled, gesturing Wakako to come forward and take her other hand.
Wakako touched her fingertips.
All she felt was cold.
She had rushed out, grabbing her training clothes and running, a water pouch still at her waist. Now, clutching it like a lifeline, she brought it to Miki’s lips, letting her drink a little to combat the ongoing blood loss.
After a while, she heard Miki say, “This was… my choice… don’t blame yourself.”
“How can I not?” Wakako’s voice trembled. “You wouldn’t do this unless… unless being with me wasn’t enough to make you happy.”
If being Lady Kitagawa were enough, no one would take such a desperate risk.
Wakako murmured painfully: “I would give you my heart if I could… Tell me… what should I do?”
She had tried her best to make Miki happy, but in the end, she was the one who made Miki so insecure. Even after they were married, Miki had never truly felt safe.
Wakako didn’t know what else she could do.
“It’s really not your fault…” Miki whispered, looking at the crying woman before her, stroking her cheek soothingly. “It’s me. I was never meant to be like everyone else.”
She said: “I thought I could escape, but now that my dream has come true, I realize I can’t.”
The etiquette and mannerisms of nobility flowed through her like blood, a constant presence, impossible to erase even with conscious effort.
The words she’d heard endlessly: “The saint must be noble, aloof, and untouchable, so no one dares to disturb her…”
The jealousy she felt for others was like needles hidden in her pillow. Unseen during the day, but piercing her every night.
Miki knew what she was afraid of.
She was no longer the most revered Saint, so she’d lost the confidence that she could surpass others.
“I’m afraid… that one day, you’ll look at someone else with admiration and praise their beauty.”
“And I’m afraid that one day, you’ll read someone else’s poetry and be deeply moved by their talent.”
“I will grow old, my sharp instincts dulled, my senses fading away. Will you still love me then?”
Before Wakako could answer, Miki silenced her with a smile.
Wakako’s tears continued to fall, landing coldly on Miki’s cheeks.
She would.
Whether she was the Saint, the ordinary Lady Kitagawa, or anyone else. As long as it was Miki, her heart would never change.
The blood, dark as ink, spread across most of the map, surging along the roads that connected the cities. With every new city it reached, another God’s statue crumbled.
“I know you will. I believe you,” Miki said.
“But I can’t love the ordinary version of myself. If I can’t even love myself, how can I ask you to love me?”
She was still smiling, though it looked like she was crying: “I used to think the things the Gods said were wrong—all that talk about pure or impure bloodlines, about people being divided into the noble and the lowly… But now I know I’ve never been able to let go of those thoughts.”
“I was born nobler than anyone in this world, and I can only ever be the noblest person.”
” Because without that, I have nothing left. There’s nothing about me that would be worth your love. Only by standing at the very top can I be sure that your eyes are only on me.”
“Being a saint isn’t enough. I want to become the new God of this continent. I want to take all the worship and offerings for myself. I will become the second God… and still be your Lady Kitagawa.”
Her voice seemed both pleading and hopeful, “Is that okay? Will you let me?”
Wakako gripped Miki’s hand tightly, saying without hesitation: “Yes.”
Miki seemed relieved.
“Soon. Morning is almost here,” she said with a smile. “Stay with me.”
Wakako let her wife, weakened by blood loss, rest against her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around her and gently stroked her back.
“You don’t even need to ask me if it’s okay,” she said. “Whatever you want to do, I will never oppose it.”
Even if a faint disappointment lingered in her heart.
For over twenty years, the Saint belonged to everyone. Only during this brief time had she been Wakako’s Lady Kitagawa alone.
And now, Lady Kitagawa would once again become the God of the world.
But if this was what Miki wanted, Wakako wouldn’t interfere.
She tightly gripped the small wooden statue, gazing down at the face that resembled Miki’s so closely.
It was beautiful.
***
What happened that night shocked the entire continent. Yet, inexplicably, it was never recorded in any histories or inscribed in the scriptures of the temples.
Still, such a monumental event couldn’t be ignored by the people. Protests broke out across cities as citizens demanded answers from the law enforcement officers, asking if their kingdom had somehow angered the God and incurred divine punishment. How else could the statues of the God in every city crumble to dust in a single night?
Before rumors could spread too far, envoys from the queen arrived to quell the unrest, explaining that the Gods had intentionally caused the statues to collapse to signal that the aging sculptures needed to be replaced. Even the palace’s temple had recently experienced the same phenomenon, they said.
Though the explanation seemed dubious, the craftsmen soon began constructing new statues, and when no further incidents occurred, the people’s anxieties settled.
Yet some couldn’t help but whisper in private… why did the new statue of the God look so different?
Could the God’s face really be this breathtakingly beautiful? The longer they stared, the more it resembled a woman of otherworldly beauty…
Xiling City was a small town not far from Mios’s capital. Several villages surrounded it, and though it wasn’t particularly bustling, it was peaceful and content.
Wakako often passed through on her missions, but she had never taken the time to truly admire the scenery.
Traveling by boat or horseback were both options, but she chose the waterways. It was the season of the last blooming flowers—soon, they would all wither away.
As she entered the city, the guards at the gate stopped her to check her travel permit. Upon reading the name written on it, one of them muttered, “Kitagawa… and wife?”
He glanced at the Omega woman beside Wakako, dressed in a light red robe with a veil covering her face. Her eyes, however, seemed familiar and captivating.
The guard was inexplicably drawn to her, staring a bit longer until Wakako cleared her throat. Realizing that staring at another’s wife was highly inappropriate, he quickly bowed in apology: “Sorry, I…”
Miki simply waved her hand, indicating he shouldn’t mind.
Even after they’d walked away, the guard couldn’t take his eyes off their departing figures.
Had he imagined it? Those eyes… how could they be identical to the divine statue’s?
Maybe it was an illusion.
After walking some distance, Wakako gently adjusted Miki’s veil, reminding her, “You know… so please don’t make eye contact with others on purpose.”
Miki obediently let her adjust the veil and softly asked, “Are you jealous, my lady?”
“What ‘my lady’!?” Wakako’s face flushed instantly. “Of course not, I just…”
Miki quietly waited for her to continue.
Not good with words, Wakako said nothing, pursed her lips, and murmured: “Others often go to the temples to worship you. When they see your true form, they can’t help but be captivated. Could you restrain yourself a bit? It’s not easy for us to go out together.”
“So, are you jealous?”
Wakako was speechless.
Wakako turned her head away, ignoring her teasing wife.
Miki tugged gently at her sleeve from behind.
Wakako wasn’t one to stay upset for long. Turning back to see her wife’s pitiful, soft gaze, even knowing it was an act, she couldn’t bring herself to be angry.
Perhaps she’d be wrapped around her little wife’s finger for the rest of her life.
Wakako glanced down at the simple map of the city she was holding, confirming they were headed in the right direction. Just a couple more turns, and they’d reach the main road leading to the small village they were looking for.
Where there was a butcher shop there…
Miki stayed quietly by Wakako’s side as they walked, but she could sense Wakako’s heart pounding faster and her palms trembling uncontrollably.
“It’s alright,” she soothed softly. “They’ve always been thinking of you; everything will be fine.”
Even so, Wakako couldn’t stop the rush of blood surging through her body.
She had never allowed herself to hope for this.
But now, she finally had the right to do so—and she was no longer alone.
“Pork! Freshly slaughtered!”
Not far ahead, a loud shout rang out. Surprisingly, the shop was tended by a young girl, appearing older than Shen Qianmo but younger than Lin Lin.
Wakako approached step by step, very slowly.
The girl thought she was a customer and was about to enthusiastically introduce her products when the woman before her accurately called out her name: “Xiao Duo.”
It wasn’t unusual for townsfolk to know her name, but this woman was clearly an outsider.
Xiao Duo curiously sized them up. Their clothing was of fine material; they didn’t look like people who would personally come to buy pork.
She looked at Wakako’s face and instinctively touched her own.
They both had identical, round dimples.
“Do you know me?” Xiao Duo asked.
Wakako smiled faintly, her eyes glistening slightly with unshed tears.
“I’m Xiao Hua,” she said softly.
