Chapter 43: The Trial of the Aries Cloth

Jamil Plateau

This plateau bears an uncanny resemblance to Tibet—its air is thin, its population sparse, and even eagles find it difficult to traverse the skies above. Yet, in this extraordinary place, a group of exiles from Mu Continent survives, calling themselves the Tribe of Jamil.

Within the lineage of the Aries Cloth, few traditions in the entire Saint Seiya legacy are as orderly and unbroken. This is not only due to their unique ability to repair Cloths, but more importantly, the relentless efforts of each generation of Aries Saints. Of course, all this rests upon the shoulders of one exceptional Saint: Avenir, who lived in the parallel Sanctuary of the twentieth century.

Without his Aries Cloth, the legacy of Sanctuary might have been lost as early as the Holy War five centuries ago.

Now, at this pivotal moment in history, Feng Zhe appears in a temporal fissure hidden within the Jamil Plateau.

At the very instant Feng Zhe touches this rift in time, he is yanked inside. When he opens his eyes again, he finds himself in a strange village.

The entire village is shrouded within an invisible barrier—a boundary that, once crossed, allows no escape.

“This must be the Time Prison,” he muses.

While pondering Shion’s whereabouts, he notices a yak bucking wildly in the distance. Atop the yak is a five-year-old child. Upon spotting the stranger, the child dashes over.

“Alex!”

The boy clearly recognizes Feng Zhe, his face brightening with joy.

“Who are you?” Feng Zhe asks.

“I’m Shion!” the child replies.

Feng Zhe is so astonished he nearly drops his jaw. Glancing left and right, he spots the distinctive two marks of the Jamil Tribe between the boy’s brows.

“How did you end up like this?”

“There’s no time to explain—just come with me! If you run into the Phantom of Yaoma, you’ll end up like this too!”

Without hesitation, Feng Zhe climbs onto the yak, which then bolts madly toward the far side of the village.

Ten minutes later, Feng Zhe is rendered speechless when he finds the village brimming with children.

“Shion! Who is he?” demands the leading child, eyeing the newcomer with suspicion.

“Yugo, this is Alex of the Altar Cloth—he’s here to help us,” Shion says, leaping off the yak and ushering Feng Zhe forward to introduce him.

Through a brief exchange, Feng Zhe learns that the leader is Yugo of the Centaur Cloth, who, like the others, has been transformed into a child by the Phantom of Yaoma.

Feng Zhe soon understands the entire story.

The village has been enveloped by the Time Prison. Before Shion’s arrival, everyone was in their adult forms. But the moment Shion approached the Aries mausoleum, the Phantom of Yaoma intervened, and using time reversal, transformed Shion and the entire village into children.

For half a year, were it not for Avenir’s soul emerging intermittently to confront the Phantom, Feng Zhe might never have met Shion.

“Where is the Phantom now?”

“He’s been lurking by Avenir’s tomb.”

“Come, let’s pay him a visit!”

With five-year-old Shion at his side, Feng Zhe heads toward Avenir’s grave.

On the way, Feng Zhe asks a question that has been on his mind.

“Have you been waiting for me all this time?”

Shion nods. “Yaoma said you aren’t of this world—you’re a grain of sand tossed by the turbulence of time. I figured you’d arrive eventually.”

“I see.”

Indeed, Feng Zhe is not native to the world of the Saints. Even the god of time cannot discern his true origin; at best, they can trace him only to Seiya’s era. Essentially, he is a grain of sand in the chaos of time—there is no fault in that description.

The village is not large. Avenir’s mausoleum lies at its edge. Here, time seems to stand apart, with a visible ripple marking the temporal divide.

To break through this barrier, ordinary means are useless.

Thus, when the sacred flame of the Altar Cloth once again flares in Feng Zhe’s hand, the moment of reckoning arrives.

Burn, Sacred Flame!

A fireball formed of the sacred flame crashes against Avenir’s tomb, causing the rippling barrier to tremble violently.

A gaping hole appears in its wake, right at the mausoleum’s entrance.

“Hurry, touch the Cloth!” Shion says.

He nods and leaps inside.

But at that moment, the Phantom of Yaoma materializes once more.

With a mere gesture, Shion, the five-year-old child, begins to age rapidly, soon showing signs of withering.

“No! It’s the flow of time!” Feng Zhe exclaims.

Corpse Gas Inferno!

Feng Zhe unleashes the technique, wrenching Shion’s soul from his body, allowing it to merge with Avenir’s spirit.

Shion is receiving the legacy of Avenir!

The Phantom now fixes his gaze upon Feng Zhe, his eyes glinting with mockery.

“I always thought you were a stray grain from the temporal currents, but I just searched countless timelines and found no trace of you. You must be a traveler from another world!”

Exposed, Feng Zhe remains unruffled, meeting the Phantom’s gaze with calm.

“If I’m not mistaken, you are Cairos, the God of Time, younger brother of the transcendent Chronos!”

The Phantom starts at the mention of this name. It has been ages since anyone called him Cairos—he never expected to meet such a person today.

“Well, this gets more interesting. If that’s the case, your memories must be fascinating!”

With that, the Phantom lunges forward.

He draws out a pocket watch, his fingers flickering over it.

Time Stop!

Suddenly, Feng Zhe feels time grind to a halt, yet the Phantom is unaffected. He drifts toward Feng Zhe, eyes wild with a frenzied curiosity. Just as he is about to probe Feng Zhe with a finger—

Feng Zhe smiles.

Sacrifice!

Divine Blood Talisman!

Two blood talismans, inscribed with Athena’s blood, slap onto the Phantom’s body.

Startled, the Phantom’s form shudders and freezes. At once, he feels the oppressive force of a god’s seal.

“Damn it! This is an Olympian seal!”

In an instant, the Phantom reverses time, rewinding to the moment before Time Stop.

This time, Feng Zhe does not use the talisman, but instead hurls a ball of sacred fire.

This flame is no ordinary fire, but the blaze of Mount Olympus itself—a force said to be able to incinerate gods.

The Phantom recoils in terror and again rewinds to before Time Stop.

But this time, Feng Zhe’s fist crashes into his face.

The Phantom is overwhelmed by an immense cosmos, his Underworld Cloth shattering under the blow.

“Why? Why are you unaffected by my power over time?!”

No matter how he turns it over, the Phantom cannot understand. He had already stopped time—so why is this otherworldly traveler immune?

It is unfathomable!

Feng Zhe laughs softly, “If you still possessed a divine body, I would be powerless against you. But now, you are a man—flesh and blood!”

In that instant, the Phantom understands. The issue lies here: he is but an avatar. In the presence of the Altar Cloth’s divine blood and sacred fire, he cannot manipulate time at will.