In the Name of Empress-Chapter 616 - 357: Sincerity Breaks the Routine (Part 3)

Sofia raised the empty wine glass in front of her. In a daze, the glass touched her lips, and she felt a chill from the empty cup.

She was slightly bewildered, catching sight of the empty glass from the corner of her eye.

Silence, the air seemed to freeze.

Sif dared not breathe loudly; she wasn't quite sure what Sofia was thinking, but she knew Sofia's mental state wasn't right.

Saying anything at this moment would be wrong and could potentially anger this capricious, icy woman.

Though she no longer walked the path of Frosty Winter, her cold personality remained unchanged.

Sofia stared at the empty glass, countless memories surfacing in her mind.

Perhaps because she had lost most of her power, her demeanor had softened somewhat recently.

Somehow reminiscent of her time in the Prudon Kingdom.

Innocent and fond of dreaming, weak and unable to control her fate.

Just as Sif was contemplating whether to say something, a flash of insight hit Sofia.

Since she had made a choice, she shouldn't hesitate.

Destruction is the endpoint of life, but also its starting point.

Without destruction, how could rebirth occur?

She gripped the glass tightly and smashed it hard, shattering it into pieces on the ground.

If she couldn't even let go of a glass, what else could she let go of?

Sofia, through smashing the glass, had an epiphany and no longer had any doubt about the path ahead.

She felt relieved after the act, but Sif was startled.

Sif instinctively tightened her grip on the smoke bomb, almost ready to flee.

But after assessing the power disparity between them, she ultimately abandoned the idea of using force.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway outside.

But Sif wasn't alarmed; the sound was distinctly that of a maid, not a Blade Axe Hand.

Moreover, she didn't sense any killing intent from Sofia.

On the contrary, Sofia appeared in good spirits and particularly joyful.

Sif teased with a smile, "Sofia, how many Blade Axe Hands are outside?"

Sofia didn't respond to her mockery, simply stating calmly, "I'm going with Roland to dismantle the Dark Race's tentacles together."

Sif felt a bit of a headache.

This was indeed a response in line with Sofia's style—if something could be solved with force, then there's no need for more words.

But this wasn't a time when force was needed.

She quickly shook her head and said, "With an insider leading the way, Roland can definitely spot something. Your invincible strength is the trump card, not a pawn for assault."

Although Sif refused, her words were pleasant to hear, and Sofia reluctantly accepted.

Seeing Sofia slightly frown, Sif feared she might have some strange idea again, so she quickly offered her own suggestion.

"Let Roland handle the dirty and tiring work; you just need to watch from a distance and provide protection."

Sofia's frown deepened.

She didn't particularly like such sneaky tactics, but as Sif said, she wasn't responsible for specific tasks, so she really had no reason to oppose.

"Fine."

Sofia's voice gradually cooled, and Sif knew she was being dismissed, so she hastily got up to leave.

If it weren't for a request, she wouldn't want to be in this forsaken place at all.

Sif silently complained to herself—had Sofia really bid farewell to the Frosty Winter Star Path? Why is the room still so cold?

The fool who refuses to light the fireplace in spring should be severely punished with arthritis when they grow old!

...

While Sif and Sofia were consulting, Roland found Christine.

The priest at the entrance warmly welcomed Roland into the Great Hall of Light and pointed him towards Christine's Prayer Room.

"The Pope always prays over there, and she mentioned that you needn't notify her when you come."

Watching Roland leave, the priest's gaze was filled with envy.

He had a clear understanding of Roland's status; though envious, he wasn't jealous.

Roland was a Knight of Light and the most trusted person of His Holiness the Pope, ranking above the overt second-in-command in the Divine Court of Light in terms of power.

He was indeed the Pope's confidant.

Inside the Prayer Room, Christine was kneeling on a cushion, her hands crossed over her chest, devoutly praying.

When Roland entered, she didn't stop her prayers but gestured with her eyes for Roland to pray beside her.

Christine was conducting her weekly hymn prayer, a pious ritual that couldn't be interrupted. Being able to accompany the Pope in opening one's heart to the Goddess at such a time was a great honor.

If it had been another believer, they would likely have been ecstatic, prostrating themselves, but Roland couldn't do it.

Kneeling before the Goddess of Light wasn't out of the question; he just felt a little agitated inside.

Recalling Christine's past advice to pray more often, Roland felt a bit embarrassed.

Though he had orally agreed, this was his first time coming.

Since he was here, he decided to pray.

Roland bent his knee slightly, ready to mimic Christine, when suddenly, a thought sparked, and he turned towards Christine.

Praying directly to the Goddess was certainly an option, but humble believers had another choice: they could pray to senior clergy members to relay their prayers.

As the gap between high-level clergy and ordinary believers widened, this second form of prayer had gained popularity in recent years.

Roland cleverly faced Christine, dropping to one knee.

This posture more resembled a vassal expressing loyalty to their lord.

He was also a high-level clergy member of the Divine Court of Light, held territory in the Holy City, effectively making him Christine's vassal.

Similarly, Christine also had a Duke's Domain in Sussex.

Roland was the Vice Emperor of the Empire, Christine's sovereign.

And he, in Christine's domain, was akin to a Cardinal and a Knight of Light, holding a Diocese.

Legally, they were mutual vassals and masters.

Kneeling to her on one knee wasn't discourteous.

With lips slightly curved upward, Roland was in a good mood, and, unconsciously, even his voice in the hymn rose by a few decibels.

He might have been better off silent; once he began, the formerly stern-faced, displeased Christine couldn't hold back her laughter.

She turned around, signaling with her eyes for Roland to shut up.

The two of them knelt face to face, eyes locked, one knee on the ground, bodies stiff.

The posture was impeccable, symbolizing the mutual loyalty between ruler and subject.

But Roland sensed a certain awkwardness in this posture.

Fortunately, the prayer ceremony was nearing its end, and the awkward feeling was soon dispelled as Christine's voice crescendoed to a bright and clear conclusion.

Christine slowly stood up, her gentle gaze falling on Roland.

"Roland, you must come here more often in the future. After you came, the strength of the Holy Blessing significantly increased. It's evident that the great Lord of Light is very pleased with you."

Roland almost rolled his eyes in exasperation, convinced that he wasn't the reason for the enhanced Holy Blessing, but wisely chose not to debunk it.

"By the way, did you have any pressing matters to discuss when you came to see me?" Christine, seeing Roland unwilling to continue the topic, didn't stubbornly insist.

"Of course, I need your help. I..."

"Alright."

Christine promptly interrupted Roland.

Her gaze was as clear and pure as that of an untainted infant.