Chapter 59: The Essential Prerequisites for Becoming a Saintess

"A... a homewrecker?"

Aynie stood there blankly, her tiny eyes filled with immense confusion.

"That's right." Lena nodded, the double-edged longsword in her hand exuding a chilling aura. "The ones who manage to lock down a decent man and get married early on are fine. The worst kind are those... women who have such great conditions, yet just love to spin men around their fingers and mock you right to your face."

With a voice that sounded neither happy nor regretful, Lena whispered, "It was precisely through step-by-step battles against them that I ultimately became the Saint of Ice—"

"That... that's very impressive," Aynie said weakly, though she had a lingering feeling this wasn't really anything to celebrate.

...

After finishing her breakfast deliveries, Aynie walked through the village path in a daze.

By the roadside, a young boy she was close with spotted her and called out, "Aynie!"

The boy trotted over to Aynie's side, pinched her blank, chubby little cheek, and asked curiously, "What are you thinking about? You're so focused."

"N-nothing much..." Aynie snapped back to reality, glanced at the boy, and after a moment of hesitation, asked brightly, "Hey."

"Between a loser dog... and a homewrecker, which one is stronger?"

"A loser dog and a homewrecker?" The boy pondered for a moment. "A loser dog, of course! How could a cat ever beat a dog?"

"Is that so—" Light gradually returned to Aynie's eyes as comprehension dawned on her.

"No wonder, no wonder Saint Big Sister is so amazing!"

"I get it now, Big Sister Lena must have been using negative examples to constantly encourage me!"

Clenching her small fists, Aynie's eyes shone with absolute determination. "Someday, I'm going to become a loser dog just like Big Sister Lena!"

...

By the river.

Lena remained silent, entirely absorbed in demolishing her breakfast.

She sat on the cool, lush meadow, eating as she took off her shoes and socks, soaking her bare feet in the river water... while slowly drawing back the biting cold that had frozen the downstream into a glacier.

On her chest, the ice-blue gem continued to pulse gently.

A gentle and tranquil voice echoed in her mind: "Your Holiness, if you keep this up, you're going to corrupt the children."

The voice of the Heart of Pure Ice carried a hint of helplessness.

...

"Everything I said was the absolute truth." Lena lowered her gaze to the water's surface, expressionless, as her feet gently rippled the current. "When Aynie grows up and realizes that the number of quality men around her is dwindling one by one, she'll thank me for today's lesson—"

"That is precisely your greatest weakness right now..." The Heart of Pure Ice sighed. "It's all in the past, isn't it? You are now a deeply respected Saint, and you have many steadfast followers in the capital."

"You are no longer the person you used to be, the kind of woman even stray dogs would detour around."

Clearly, this wasn't the first time the Heart of Pure Ice had listened to Lena's grievances. "Among all the successive generations of Saints, your temperament is the finest... Leave the past behind, and once you let go, you can become the strongest—"

"I know, I know all of that." Lena softly interrupted.

"Chosen as the Saint, finally no one will look at me through such boring factors as my age, personality, or rumors..."

"No one will call me a violent female gorilla anymore, nor will they accuse me of fleeing from marriage..."

"The moment I became Saint, any psychological trauma should have meant nothing. That's how it was supposed to be—"

Lena buried her head in her hands, her voice trembling slightly: "Why..."

"Why did the day they chose me to be Saint... have to be the exact day of my 1,000th failed matchmaking attempt?!"

"Why did they have to hold my Saint coronation ceremony precisely on my thirtieth birthday?!"

"Can you imagine what it feels like to come home after another failed blind date, only to find a huge crowd of people blocking your front door for interviews? ...My social anxiety completely exploded!"

"Those bastards at the Capital Daily... printing headlines like 'The Thirty-Year-Old Exquisite Saint' or 'Half a Lifetime of Matchmaking, Still a Saint Upon Return'—what kind of rude titles are those?!"

Snowflake-like frost gradually condensed in the air, drifting silently around her as if carrying a desolate and bitter resentment.

"In any case, you need to stabilize your emotional state..." the Heart of Pure Ice cautioned with a trace of worry. "Otherwise, I truly fear that the moment any random man proposes to you, your mental threshold will instantly shatter."

"Rest assured, don't forget that my opponents are the Demons." The double-edged longsword snapped back into its scabbard with a faint breath of frost.

"Besides—"

Lena lifted her saintly, ice-cold face.

"I am not a woman who falls that easily!"

...

The Demon Castle.

The Demon Joint Assembly.

"Based on Saint Lena's operational trajectory over these past few days, I predict that next time, there is an overwhelmingly high probability she will launch an attack on this Demon Army stronghold of ours... When that happens, it will be the absolute best opportunity to strike against her."

The phantom projection of Demon Strategist Sویل hovered beside the long table. Having undergone a period of recuperation, his power had recovered significantly. Now, he quietly looked toward the head of the table at Clementina, awaiting instructions.

"Time and location are not an issue." Clementina nodded. "The only thing we must ensure is that we can successfully use roses to provoke an extreme emotional fluctuation in Saint Lena, causing the Heart of Pure Ice to suffer a backlash and completely suppressing Lena's combat strength."

"We only get one chance, so I will execute it myself..." Clementina chuckled softly. "As for roses, I have as many as I want."

"The only question now is whether this intelligence truly carries enough lethality." Apophis pointed out the weakness in the plan. "Even if that Ice Saint possesses psychological trauma, it should be quite difficult to trigger. We cannot guarantee that her emotions will reach the threshold."

Miguo and Fimu, seated opposite, realized this as well. After nodding in agreement, they looked toward Clementina with a hint of concern.

"That is not the focal point, Lord Apophis."

At that moment, Sویل smiled and provided the answer on Clementina's behalf. "The focal point is that this intelligence comes from... Mynor. The person closest to the Saint."

Apophis's sword-like form paused slightly, as if pondering for a second or two.

Soon, its voice revealed sudden realization:

"I see, so that's how it is?"

"Indeed." Sویل's voice carried a smile. "The intelligence extracted through torture from the Hero Mynor is not the true trump card. The reality of 'Mynor's surrender' is the heavy blow that will truly shake the Saint."

"Lady Clementina will personally tell Lena—that the mastermind behind this entire series of operations is none other than the Hero Mynor."

"When that time comes, Saint Lena will face not only a sky full of her most hated rose petals, but also a crushing betrayal from the person she trusted most!"

The whispers of demons echoed through the hall, and the pages of the grimoire on Sویل fluttered gently:

"It is said that Saint Lena possesses a powerful intuition capable of seeing through any lie, but this time, that very ability will become a double-edged sword piercing straight into her own heart."

"Under our direct confession and the exposure of those hidden secrets, her psyche will suffer an unprecedented shock."

The demons seated around the table finally grasped the malicious intent packed into this grand plan:

"This is a magnificent 'surprise' specially prepared for Saint Lena—"