Chapter 4: Return to the Past! The Saga Rebellion!

“The current era’s Altar Saint has not yet emerged, and the God of Time, Kairos, has long since been sealed away. Young Altar Saint, where do you come from?” Pope Shion wore no mask; though his face was aged, the wisdom in his gaze and the ever-present air of danger made Feng Zhe involuntarily take a step back.

Yet none of this made Feng Zhe falter. Instead, he stepped forward and said, “Esteemed Pope Shion, I come from the Sanctuary ten years in the future, and my teacher is none other than Pope Saga himself!”

Feng Zhe did not tell the whole truth, but the impact of his words made Shion’s eyes widen in astonishment.

Beside him, Aiolos could not help but cry out, “Impossible!”

Shion closed his eyes, pondering this shocking revelation, then asked, “And the Goddess?”

“The Sagittarius Gold Saint absconded with the Goddess and vanished without a trace!”

Though Feng Zhe knew the Goddess was in Japan, he did not say so, instead repeating the Sanctuary’s official statement.

The shock of this news rivaled that of his earlier claim regarding Pope Saga.

Particularly the word ‘absconded’—it utterly broke Aiolos’s composure, his fists clenching tight, as if he were a lion on the verge of wrath.

Shion closed his eyes. After two hundred and thirty-three years of life, he seemed to be weighing the possibility.

After a long silence, he opened his eyes and asked Feng Zhe, “Young Altar Saint, for what purpose have you come here?”

“I beseech Your Holiness to abdicate early and pass the papacy to Aiolos!”

This, Feng Zhe believed, was the best possible solution—the only way to truly change the course of fate.

“Insolence!”

Aiolos shouted, his anger at its zenith. Were it not for the Pope’s presence, he would have struck this reckless Altar Saint on the spot.

“Come with me,” Shion said, not answering directly. He stood, old and unsteady; Aiolos reached out to support him, but Shion waved him away.

He said, “Return for now.”

Aiolos started in surprise. “Your Holiness…”

“It’s all right. The Altar Saint is, in the end, a Saint of the Goddess.”

Shion actually trusted Feng Zhe, and without condition.

Feng Zhe did not know where Shion intended to take him—perhaps to see the Goddess, or perhaps to share some secret.

He followed quietly.

Shion walked slowly—Feng Zhe could tell his body was at its very limit. Without his indomitable will, he would have long since been nothing but bones.

Though Shion did not say their destination, Feng Zhe, who had dwelled in the Pope’s Hall for over a year, was intimately familiar with the route.

They were headed to the Hall of the Goddess, where a colossal statue of Athena stood.

There was also a divine relic there: Athena’s Shield.

Feng Zhe, well-versed in the story, knew this was a place of utmost significance, where many tales would unfold. Each time the Goddess was born, it happened here.

Upon arriving, the cloudiness in Shion’s eyes blazed into fervor—a light as golden as his heart, and in that moment, Feng Zhe saw a faith that surpassed mortal understanding.

Such devotion to the Goddess was like that of the zealots described in ancient books.

“Young Altar Saint, do you know the responsibility of the Altar Cloth?”

Shion’s gaze pierced deep into Feng Zhe, as if he could see his very soul.

Feng Zhe, moved by his spirit, replied, “The Altar Cloth is the most unique among the eighty-eight sacred armors of the Goddess. Within it lies the key to sealing Death and Sleep.”

Shion nodded. “It seems Saga has taught you well.”

He assumed such secrets must have been passed on by Saga.

But Feng Zhe shook his head and said, “My teacher is ill. He bears two souls—one good, one evil. Ordinarily, this would not matter, but with the 108 Demon Stars stirring, it is most ill-timed.”

At the mention of the Holy War, Shion’s demeanor grew cautious.

After a moment’s thought, he said, “My own teacher, the former Altar Saint, Byre, once told me how, in the Holy War two generations past, they joined forces to defeat their own master, the Pope of that era, Ithia.”

“In you, I see the shadow of my teacher…”

The same Altar Cloth, the same conviction—Shion sensed that for Feng Zhe to come to this era, he must have endured great hardship.

Feng Zhe said nothing, for before this survivor of the Holy War, words seemed pale.

“I know another Holy War is upon us…”

“But my era has already passed…”

Shion had always been a warrior of steadfast resolve, but now he was simply too old. It was through years of relentless effort that Sanctuary had regained some of its strength.

“You have already done enough. My era must be guarded by me,” Feng Zhe blurted, swept up in Shion’s emotions.

Shion smiled—the smile of contentment—and then, tears in his eyes, gazed at Athena’s statue.

“Athena, my Goddess…”

“Forgive my selfishness…”

From his robes, Shion drew a square box.

Its carvings were intricate, and atop it was a seal inscribed with Athena’s incantation.

“This is…”

Knowing the story well, Feng Zhe’s heart skipped at the sight of the box.

“Within are spells stained with Athena’s blood—the last knowledge my teacher Byre imparted to me. Now, I pass them on to you.”

“Young Altar Saint, Sanctuary is entrusted to you.”

Feng Zhe did not understand why Shion would bestow so precious a relic upon him.

Yet the trust moved him deeply.

“Your Holiness, I will fight for justice, for humanity…”

Whether by intention or instinct, Feng Zhe, as a Saint of the Goddess, did not say he would fight for the gods.

Shion smiled at this.

Under the gaze of the Goddess, Feng Zhe accepted the box capable of sealing deities—and with it, a weighty responsibility.

“Tomorrow, I shall pass the papacy to Aiolos. Young Altar Saint, would you like to see the Goddess?”

Shion’s invitation filled Feng Zhe with joy.

He nodded, but at that very moment, a chilling beam of light shot toward them.

Its target was not the Pope, but Feng Zhe by his side.

“Crystal Wall!”

Though aged, Shion moved swiftly, countless crystals forming an invisible shield.

The Crystal Wall, unseen and intangible, could block any attack.

But Shion was, after all, old—the barrier seemed to drain him completely.

For a Saint, a technique loses its effect after being seen once.

Feng Zhe knew well that this beam was the Galaxian Explosion that had nearly claimed his life before.

But for the vast difference in power, without the Pope’s Crystal Wall, it would have been impossible to withstand.

At that instant, a golden dagger plunged into Shion’s back.

Shion turned, and upon seeing his assailant, said, “I… knew… it was you…”

Long black hair, a face twisted with malice, the Gemini Cloth upon his body—Saga had attacked from behind once more. The aged Shion could not hope to defend himself.

Feng Zhe watched it all in utter shock…

Everything seemed to have come full circle.

He had been unable to change anything.