Chapter Thirty-Nine: Journey to North Africa

Seeing this, Yin Seventeen couldn’t help but ask in confusion, “Don’t you celebrate traditional festivals?”

“Of course we do! Why wouldn’t we?” Ruolan stared at him wide-eyed, as if she were looking at an alien.

“So what festivals do you celebrate?” Yin Seventeen asked, still bewildered.

“We celebrate the same festivals as the Greeks, obviously. What else would we celebrate?” Ruolan replied with absolute conviction.

The words of this countryman were growing stranger by the minute.

“The same as Greece?”

Hearing this answer, Yin Seventeen was utterly stunned; it was far beyond anything he’d expected.

After a moment’s contemplation, he asked again to confirm, “Is it all of the East that follows Greece, or just your local people?”

Ruolan shot him a peculiar look and said, “Hey, where on earth are you from that you’d ask such a silly question?”

“The radiance of the gods shines over the world. Naturally, we look to Greece, the land of the divine, as our model.”

“Not just the East—every country in the world celebrates the same festivals as Greece. Only a handful of remote regions keep some odd customs.”

“You’re not from one of those places, are you?”

She eyed Yin Seventeen with a playful glance, convinced she’d figured him out.

“Mm… yes, yes, I come from a small, isolated village and have never been outside before. Arriving in the Sanctuary was a special accident!” Yin Seventeen replied, forcing a smile.

After Ruolan’s explanation, he suddenly realized that in this world dominated by the Greek gods, everything was tinged with the colors of Greece.

The East—his former homeland—perhaps was no longer the East he once knew.

The name, the geography, the people may be the same, but their beliefs might differ from his own.

The countrywoman before him, with black hair and yellow skin, might no longer be his compatriot.

Perhaps she was simply a foreigner who closely resembled his countrymen.

Recognizing this, the fervor in Yin Seventeen’s heart at seeing a compatriot gradually cooled.

Observing his smile fade, even turning somewhat indifferent, Ruolan was surprised.

“Hey, you…”

Just then, Camian of the Crow constellation returned.

His eyes were bloodshot, his face dark as he said to them, “Let’s go!”

On the way back to bathe, he had tripped eight times.

For a Saint with such reflexes, tripping should be utterly impossible, yet for various reasons, it had happened.

Undoubtedly, it was that damned bad luck at work again.

He was itching with anger but helpless, forced to swallow it all and pretend nothing had happened.

“This guy looks like he’s in a terrible mood—like someone owes him money!” Ruolan whispered, seeing his sour expression.

“What do you think?” Yin Seventeen shot her a look.

Ruolan stuck out her tongue, embarrassed.

Glancing at their bright, gleaming Saint Cloths, Yin Seventeen couldn’t help but remind them, “Are you two planning to parade around in your Saint Cloths like this?”

“I was going to ask you that! Why aren’t you wearing yours?” Ruolan pointed at his casual attire.

She’d noticed since their first meeting that Yin Seventeen wasn’t wearing his Saint Cloth.

She’d meant to ask, but Yin Seventeen had bombarded her with strange questions, making her forget about it.

Now, as he mentioned the Saint Cloth, she recalled her initial curiosity.

“Yes, why aren’t you wearing yours? Did you leave it in the Sanctuary?” Camian asked, equally curious.

Perhaps Ruolan had let go of her earlier annoyance and stopped cursing him; since returning, Camian hadn’t suffered any more bad luck, and his mood had improved considerably.

“How could I forget my Saint Cloth in the Sanctuary?” Raising his left hand, Yin Seventeen shook his ring for emphasis.

The two released their spiritual senses to examine it closely, discovering it was a ring formed from a Saint Cloth chest.

No doubt, that was Yin Seventeen’s Crater constellation Saint Cloth.

Saint Cloths could transform; the user could inject cosmos energy to adjust their size according to their physique.

The Saint Cloth chest was much the same, originally crafted from leftover Saint Cloth materials.

Yin Seventeen had infused his own cosmos, altering the chest’s shape.

“So why don’t you wear it?” Ruolan asked curiously.

Yin Seventeen addressed them seriously, “Moses of the Cetus constellation and Walker of the Lupus constellation have been missing in the Nile River region for nearly three months.”

“The Pope suspects they might have met with disaster.”

“If so, it means there’s a powerful enemy in the Nile region.”

“Open attacks are easy to defend against, but hidden threats are much harder. We don’t even know who the enemy is—charging in recklessly would be extremely dangerous.”

“I suggest we remove our Saint Cloths first and investigate secretly.”

Transforming the Saint Cloth chest not only made it easier to carry but also helped disguise their identity.

After all, lugging a big chest around would make it obvious they were Saints—no different than wearing the Saint Cloth.

“I agree!” Camian nodded, then removed his Saint Cloth.

The metal components left his body, reassembling above his head into the shape of a crow, and the Saint Cloth chest hidden within the components materialized, sealing the Saint Cloth once more.

After Camian infused it with cosmos, the chest dissolved into a beam of light, transforming into a key in his hand.

With both silver Saints decided, Ruolan, a bronze Saint, had no reason to insist.

Reluctantly, she removed her Saint Cloth, finally transforming it into a rabbit-shaped pendant hung around her neck.

Without the solemn constraint of the Saint Cloth, the girl appeared livelier, nothing like the ascetic warrior from the Sanctuary.

“Be careful not to drop it in the sea!” Ruolan teased, glancing at Camian, then ignited her cosmos, leaping up and laughing as she glided southward.

Yin Seventeen shook his head helplessly and followed, leaving Camian alone on the ground.

The Nile’s mouth lies in northern Africa, south of Europe, separated by the Mediterranean Sea.

Though the journey was long, for Saints, crossing the ocean was like stepping over a puddle—completed in an instant.

For reference, sound travels around the earth in about thirty-two and a half hours.

Ruolan wasn’t strong, but could reach nearly five hundred times the speed of sound.

That meant she could circle the earth in just four minutes.

Crossing from the Sanctuary across the Mediterranean to Africa was less than one-tenth the length of the equator.

Without the sea as a barrier, Ruolan could reach Africa on foot in less than thirty seconds.

At such speeds, gliding across the sea by sprint was entirely possible for Ruolan.

Not to mention Yin Seventeen, who possessed speeds of one hundred thousand times that of sound.

Traversing that distance was as easy for him as eating or drinking.

The only thing to watch out for was not to use too much force, or else he might land in Antarctica in a single stride.

Because of Ruolan’s words, Camian hesitated for a moment.

After a brief pause, he finally steeled himself, ignited his cosmos, and gave chase.