Chapter 20: The Great Pit of Gigas

"Indeed, Saga cannot be allowed to die!" With Master Libra’s support, Feng Zhe finally felt a breath of relief. Only by sparing Saga could Sanctuary secure its foothold in the coming Holy War. He had no intention of relying on those Bronze Saints, who always seemed to depend on the goddess’s grace to prevail.

Mu of Aries glanced at Feng Zhe and smiled, “Then, Your Excellency, Acting Pope, how do you intend to deal with Gemini Saga?”

With a single honorific, Mu deftly shifted attention back onto Feng Zhe.

Damn it!

Feng Zhe cursed inwardly, then looked at Saga, who knelt in sincere repentance, his demeanor as serene as a meditating monk.

He spoke, “There’s a Buddhist parable I once heard: even the most wicked may be forgiven, provided their repentance is sincere. Shaka, am I right?”

“That is indeed the meaning of ‘lay down the butcher’s knife and attain Buddhahood on the spot.’” Shaka pressed his palms together, exuding an air of enlightened monkhood—though, draped in the Virgo Gold Cloth, the sight was somewhat incongruous.

“Since the repentance is genuine, I decree that Saga shall be stripped of his five senses by the Tenbu Hōrin and assigned to guard Pope Shion’s ice coffin in the Star Chamber as atonement!”

This punishment was nothing short of severe. To be deprived of one’s senses was to be rendered little more than a shell—crippled, especially for a Saint. Yet, to place him as guardian of Pope Shion’s ice coffin left little room for objection.

Sure enough, Mu fell silent for a moment, then sighed, “Add this: he is not to be released except in the event of a Holy War.”

“Agreed.”

Feng Zhe accepted. Thus, for the first time, the two factions of Sanctuary’s Gold Saints reached an accord, however temporary. The future was rife with uncertainty—who knew, in a few years, when the lovely Miss Saori arrived at Sanctuary, whether she would forgive Saga? That was beyond Feng Zhe’s reckoning.

And so, after Shaka’s Tenbu Hōrin sealed Saga’s five senses, he was sent to the Star Chamber, wordless from start to finish.

Truly a man of resolve—Saga outshone many Saints in this regard.

Feng Zhe wished to consult Master Libra further about the Holy War, but the old man’s psychic presence vanished in a flash.

“Seems Master Libra isn’t so adept at telepathy after all,” Feng Zhe mused wryly. Turning around, he saw the Gold Saints dispersing to their respective temples—none lingered in the Goddess’s Palace.

“In the end, one’s strength and status decide all.”

For now, Feng Zhe was but a Silver Saint. Though he sat on Sanctuary’s throne as Acting Pope, it was only a balance between two sides, neither wanting internal division. It was a product of cold calculation; once the balance tipped, his fate would be grim indeed.

Moreover, even as Acting Pope, he likely lacked the authority to command the Gold Saints. His life or death would hardly stir their interest.

“I must become stronger—and quickly!”

Strength was the foundation of everything, especially within Sanctuary. Feng Zhe cast a glance at the Pope’s mask lying on the ground, lamenting his own weakness. He retrieved it and set it upon his face.

Sometimes, a touch of mystery inspires awe, and from awe, cooperation. Such was the case, for example, when dealing with Chief Strategist Gigas.

Soon, summoned to the Goddess’s Palace, Gigas arrived and beheld the ruined, devastated hall. Terrified, he dropped to his knees, trembling.

“Gigas, by the authority of the Pope, I issue my first order!”

“Yes, Your Holiness!”

“Assemble the artisans and have the Goddess’s Palace restored at once. No mistakes will be tolerated.”

“Yes, Your Holiness!”

“My second order: restart the selection process for Bronze Saints. Begin by taking inventory of all Bronze Cloths currently available in Sanctuary.”

“Yes, Your Holiness!”

In theory, Athena’s Saints possessed twelve Gold Cloths, twenty-four Silver Cloths, forty-eight Bronze Cloths, and four special Cloths.

Feng Zhe’s priority was to reinitiate the selection of Bronze Saints, to quickly assemble a force of his own.

Gigas, ever the cunning survivor, immediately understood what the new Acting Pope wanted. If he wished to remain in the inner circle, he needed to present a show of loyalty.

He spoke up, “Your Holiness, the previous Pope secretly established a private guard—Saints loyal only to the Pope.”

“Their armor is forged from fragments of Cloths. It lacks the full power of true Cloths, but if the Saint’s Cosmo is strong enough, they can still wield abilities far beyond ordinary men.”

Feng Zhe couldn’t help but laugh; Gigas was truly adept at reading the winds. No sooner had Feng Zhe assumed the papacy than the man hurried to reveal his predecessor’s secrets.

These private guards were surely the likes of Hercules Dagras, the Fiery Saint, the Crystal Saint, and their ilk.

Because such guards answered only to the Pope, not Sanctuary, their lives and deaths were of little concern to the Sanctuary; they could be replaced at will.

He addressed Gigas, “You are to assemble all the private guards as quickly as possible. I have arranged a teacher for them.”

At these words, Gigas’s expression shifted. Clearly, he realized he was not trusted, and that the Acting Pope had brought in his own people.

Suppressing his anxiety, Gigas replied, “The others are no problem, but the Crystal Saint is still in Siberia, constructing the Ice Pyramid for Sanctuary. It’s been a decade—who knows how much progress he’s made?”

Saints of the ice lineage all hailed from Aquarius and were devotees of the Goddess of Dawn. Their temperament was cool and composed, and within Sanctuary, they often served as sages.

Gigas was obviously laying a trap. Feng Zhe had just said he would assign a teacher to the private guards, and now Gigas brought up the Crystal Saint—whose own master was Aquarius Camus, a Gold Saint with considerable influence. For the Crystal Saint to accept another master would be tantamount to betrayal. If Feng Zhe forced the issue, Camus would surely be displeased. Yet, if he did nothing, his own authority would be undermined—and future governance would suffer.

Gigas, it seemed, was up to no good.

“Just summon him back. Must I repeat myself?” Feng Zhe said coldly.

Gigas immediately dropped to his knees, feigning terror, putting on a show of subservience.

Feng Zhe found him loathsome, but with no better candidates, he had little choice for now.

Watching Gigas depart, Feng Zhe felt a sudden urge to punch the man.

Suppressing his irritation with effort, he sighed and made his way toward the Aquarius Temple.

...

Aquarius Temple.

The moment Feng Zhe entered, he felt a chill in the air.

At that time, Aquarius Camus was encased in an ice coffin of his own making. The freezing aura emanating from the coffin sent a shiver through Feng Zhe.

Gazing at Camus, eyes closed in a meditative trance within the crystalline sarcophagus, Feng Zhe couldn’t help but wonder if, in freezing himself, the man hadn’t also frozen his wits.