Chapter Forty-Nine: Silver Chalice of Sweet Dew

"The Seventh Sense?" Ruolan was startled, and examined him once more, suspicion in her eyes. "So strict? Could it be that Lord Shura is grooming you as a candidate for the Gold Saints?"

Only those whose cosmos surpasses the Sixth Sense and reaches the Seventh are worthy of donning the Gold Cloth. Though the Seventh Sense lies just a step beyond the Sixth, the difference in power is as vast as heaven and earth.

It is known that among the Saints, apart from the twelve Gold Saints at the pinnacle, almost all Silver and Bronze Saints possess only the Sixth Sense. The gap between Bronze and Silver is significant, but it pales compared to the chasm between the Sixth and Seventh Senses.

The mighty Gold Saints, some say, can even slay gods—just as Lord Shura demonstrated moments ago.

Yet such power comes with a formidable threshold. The training camp hosts tens of thousands of apprentice Saints year-round, but the number of reserve Saints remains around three hundred. Even mastering the Sixth Sense and igniting the cosmos proves difficult; to comprehend the Seventh Sense beyond it is a challenge beyond imagination.

Saints who attain the Seventh Sense are exceedingly rare. Thus, even though internal promotion exists, there has never been word of a Saint ascending step by step from Bronze to Gold. Now, all Gold Saints of the Twelve Palaces are chosen and cultivated from childhood by their predecessors. In a sense, those children selected by former Gold Saints possess the potential for the Seventh Sense and are groomed as candidates for Gold from the very beginning. They are truly the chosen.

Ruolan felt she might have encountered such a person.

Feeling uneasy under the girl’s peculiar gaze, Yin Seventeen quickly waved his hands. “You’re overthinking things, aren’t you?”

“Maybe the elder simply saw promise in me and offered a bit of guidance, nurturing talent for the Sanctuary!”

Though the explanation was hardly convincing, he wanted no part of being labeled a Gold candidate—it drew too much attention.

Besides, the copper-masked man—suspected to be Shura—had an ambiguous attitude; reckless speculation might invite unnecessary trouble.

When he finally comprehended the Seventh Sense, everything would become clear. Thinking about it now was pointless.

If he remained stuck at the Sixth Sense for life yet carried the title of Gold candidate, it would be a terrible embarrassment.

“But—”

Ruolan tried to continue, but Yin Seventeen quickly cut her off and changed the subject. “Stop guessing about things that don’t matter! Let’s deal with the problem at hand.”

“The Pope has tasked us with searching for the whereabouts of the Whale and Wolf Saints.”

“But given the current situation, it seems likely both have met misfortune. We’d best hurry to the Evil God’s dungeon and search for the Cloths, see if we can retrieve them!”

“Oh,” the girl responded, clearly uninterested, her enthusiasm dampened by the abrupt shift in topic.

Yin Seventeen, about to set out, suddenly remembered something. “Where’s Gamian? Where did you leave him?”

It would be disastrous if they failed to find the Whale and Wolf Saints and lost the Crow Saint as well—he’d have no explanation for the Pope, who was not known for his temper.

Ruolan pointed to a distant building, unconcerned. “I tossed that nuisance over there!”

After the earlier commotion, the city was deserted; she’d simply hidden Gamian wherever she found convenient.

“Is he still alive?” Yin Seventeen pressed.

“He has half a life left, probably dying soon,” Ruolan recalled.

“Take me to him,” Yin Seventeen gestured ahead.

“What are you planning?” Though puzzled, Ruolan obediently led the way.

“Perhaps I can save him…” Yin Seventeen stroked his chin, uncertain.

“You know medicine?” Ruolan was astonished.

“No!” Yin Seventeen shook his head.

“Then how will you save him?” Her confusion deepened.

“You’ll see soon enough,” Yin Seventeen replied with a smile, offering no further explanation.

Ruolan led the way, Yin Seventeen followed. They walked about a thousand meters and arrived at a low, humble residence.

They pushed the door open and entered. Immediately, they saw Gamian unconscious on the floor, surrounded by dozens of crows.

Judging by appearance, Gamian’s Silver Cloth wasn’t seriously damaged, save for a deep indentation at the chest. Yet blood poured ceaselessly from the gaps, saturating his body and the floor with crimson.

Without doubt, Gamian’s body beneath the Cloth had been torn apart; otherwise, he wouldn’t be bleeding so heavily.

Clearly, though Lecton’s attack couldn’t shatter the Silver Cloth, its force—lessened by the armor—was still far beyond Gamian’s endurance.

Their strength differed too greatly.

Yin Seventeen sighed inwardly, then removed his own Saint Cloth. Countless components gathered above his head, assembling into a great, squat silver goblet.

Ruolan didn’t understand, but vaguely guessed he was preparing to heal the Crow Saint.

She held her breath, eyes wide, eager to watch.

The goblet gradually shrank to normal size and settled into Yin Seventeen’s hand.

“Hey, what’s in your cup?” Ruolan asked curiously.

She noticed the goblet formed by the Crater Saint Cloth contained a faintly glowing liquid.

With her perceptive senses, she could confirm it was not water.

Stranger still, though the Crater Cloth’s original form was a cup, it was not meant to be a vessel, but a genuine battle armor. How could it produce such a mysterious liquid?

While opening Gamian’s jaw, Yin Seventeen explained, “This is moon dew collected by the Crater Cloth, with miraculous healing properties.”

“I’ve never heard of the Crater Saint having such abilities,” Ruolan exclaimed.

Yin Seventeen shot her a glance. “It’s been nearly two hundred years since a Crater Saint appeared. Nearly all who witnessed one are long dead—how could you possibly know what abilities it has?”

Even he, the current bearer of the Crater Cloth, only learned this from its imprint. It would be strange if anyone else knew.

He carefully poured a small sip of moon dew into Gamian’s open mouth.

From the imprints, he knew moon dew was extremely difficult to collect—only a single drop per day.

Though he wasn’t certain it was as effective as the records claimed, it couldn’t be wasted.

At that moment, a miracle occurred.

The dew entered, and the unconscious Gamian seemed to regain awareness.

Yin Seventeen and Ruolan clearly saw his eyes moving beneath closed lids, and even his fading cosmos revived with new vigor.

“Is this stuff really so miraculous?” Yin Seventeen gazed in disbelief at the silver goblet in his hand.