Chapter 5: The Saint’s Belated Protector

Chapter 5: The Saint's Belated Protector

"A perfect match," Owen muttered under his breath, feeling an overwhelming aura emanating from the figure above.

"So, the fearsome wings in the prophecy belonged to the angel race's envoy!"

With no saint appearing from the angel race in three hundred years, they hadn't attended the ceremony, hence their late arrival.

In the original course of the future, Owen would have faced ridicule but nothing more.

Now, having altered the future's path and embarrassed Roger, he found himself in the crosshairs of the angel race, one of the top ten advanced races.

By bullying a saint of the angel race, Owen could only imagine his fate –

Possibly being disintegrated by the representative's arcanergy, vanishing into this world's air as if he never existed.

But he refused to accept this destiny.

"Activate prophecy," Owen silently commanded.

His only chance at turning the tables, even against such a formidable opponent, was not to be relinquished.

The system's cold voice responded: [Prophecy cooldown not yet complete. Cooldown time: 3 days. Upgrade to reduce cooldown.]

A grim smile formed on Owen's face, the system's timing almost mocking.

Such a crucial detail, and it was omitted until now?

He understood, though; the power of prophecy was formidable, and without limits, it could foresee decades into the future.

"Is this the end for me?" he wondered.

The angel race's representative descended, his visage as immaculate as a moonlit snowflake, unblemished and pure.

Dressed in a white robe with solemn, magnificent wings, these feathers – white and gold – shimmered brilliantly around him, like a vast constellation in the night sky.

His usually warm eyes now blazed with anger.

"Who dares bully a saint of my race?" he demanded.

Seeing the representative of the angel race, Roger immediately stood up, a stark contrast to his previous submissive demeanor: "It's him, him!"

He pointed at Owen, his face twisted with malice.

The angel race's representative, Walter, looked at Roger with a smile, "Saint, I am Walter of the angel race."

"Now, I will show this insolent boy the power of our angel race's arcana — the Sacred Ray."

"Under our arcana, be it demons or abyssal creatures, all shall perish!"

Other races witnessing Walter's move, using an arcana of the angel race, remarked among themselves:

"The angel race even sent Walter for their saint. They truly value him."

"Is it necessary to use an arcana against a mere child? It's almost laughable."

"This is also about establishing authority. Walter is making a statement for us to see. Such a pity for the kid."

"Damn, no one can really rein in the angel race. They've been arrogant for centuries."

"Nowadays in Novalia, isn't it just the angel race dominating?"

Walter's mouth twitched slightly, his pupils filled with fear.

He stepped back, his voice trembling, "Barlo, there has been a misunderstanding."

Barlo didn't respond to him, instead, he asked with a smile, "Is the saint still angry with me? I apologize for being late. If so, I am willing to accept punishment."

Owen shook his head slightly, responding calmly, "Stand up."

"Thank you, saint," Barlo said, rising to stand behind Owen, his posture straight like a guard.

Walter's eyes flickered, and he bowed slightly, "Saint of the Dragons, what happened earlier... was just a joke. I hope you can forgive my foolishness. I truly realize my mistake."

Roger was completely stunned.

He had clearly seen Walter's earlier arrogance, but now, in front of Barlo, he was as meek as a bug.

Owen's eyes shifted slightly as he asked in a low voice, "What can I do?"

Barlo, with a smile and a glint of blue in his eyes, replied, "As the Saint of the Dragons, you can do whatever you wish here."

Owen's expression suddenly turned icy, his eyes burning with tangible rage, transforming his earlier fear into a blazing fury.

Pointing at Walter, he commanded, "Kill him!"

Barlo's smile widened slightly, his crimson tongue flicking across his lips, "As you wish."

The moment Owen's command was issued, Walter, without hesitation, grabbed Roger and soared into the sky, not even contemplating a fight with Barlo.

Other races thought the dragons had become dormant over the years, with no members emerging.

Only Walter knew the truth: the dragons were simply not expanding their territory, but there were still many dragon members born, searching for opportunities in various places.

Barlo was one of them.

As an ice dragon, he should have been cold and calm, but instead, he was belligerent and bloodthirsty, completely defying the nature of his bloodline.

A madman, powerful to the point of despair!

Barlo's body shimmered with silvery-white scales, shooting out like an arrow.

Almost becoming a streak of light, he instantly entangled with Walter in the air.

Meanwhile, Walter unleashed the holy light deep within him, his body radiating immense holy power.

The battle was so fierce it tore through the air, spanning from the sky to the ground, creating a magnificent spectacle of combat.

In just ten seconds, Barlo returned before Owen.

His mouth was stained with golden blood, and the blue light in his eyes was chillingly bright.

He held Walter by his wing, which was dripping blood, and in his other hand, he grasped a pale-faced, terrified Roger, reeking of fear.

Only now did the golden droplets of blood begin to hit the ground, creating a mottled pattern.

Walter's lifeless body fell to the ground with a dull thud.

Owen's eyes sparkled with excitement, the scent of blood causing a surge of adrenaline.

He relished this feeling; he was the chosen one of this land!

The carnage awakened every cell in his body.

"Saint, what should be done with him?"