Finding an unattended linen baggage package, Grevia reached down to dust it off, then straightened the hem of her cloak and gown and sat down with her side legs poised.
In a sense, this parcel under her butt was in a similar position to her, both unattended.
As soon as Her Highness tried to offer to help clear the snow or carry something, she was immediately escorted away from the scene by the paladins.
They all said, "Your Highness, how can you do this kind of rough work? Please sit down in a quiet and clean place as soon as possible and take a good rest", but they didn't know that Her Highness just wanted to move around and warm up her body.
Almost two hours had passed since His Holiness entered the ruins, and the simple camp outside the ruins was almost complete.
The paladins' squires and guards were moving the crates sent by the logistics team with great dexterity, the snow on the forest road was basically swept away, and the linen tents on both sides were erected and nailed down one by one.
A few fast-moving squads were already setting up pots and fires, and the faint aroma of broth drifted out, but it was quickly dispersed by the cold wind blowing from the other side of the canyon.
Grevia couldn't help but shiver as she looked down and saw her slender legs, covered in white silk pantyhose, trembling slightly under her cloak, along with the irregular traces of the white-gold heels that had sunk into the light snow on the soles of her feet.
She sat upright, forcing her legs to stop trembling and regain their composure.
Cautiously looking around until she was sure that no one had seen what she had just done before she finally sighed with relief.
The impassivity in front of Bertram was actually all an act.
She was actually rather afraid of the cold.
Virgin dress robe white silk and gold embroidery intertwined look high and elegant, fabric texture is also very smooth and soft, was very close to the Virgin temperament design style, but I do not know why the left side of the skirt in the very bad taste all the way high slits to the root of the thighs, so that walking amplitude slightly increased some to reveal the mermaid line to ...
I heard that this dress robe is also a holy relic of the religious collar of St. Mary, which has been guarded and blessed by Vatitaya, and is inherited and worn by every saintly woman.
That said, in fact, since the founding of the Church of the Scorched Sun nearly a thousand years ago, there have only been a total of three Holy Maidens.
"The Goddess of Obsidian, Vatitaya, never blesses men, she only gives her strongest power to the chosen maidens, and the Holy Maiden of the Church of the Scorched Sun is in fact Vatitaya's divine choice.
It is for this reason that the status of the female followers of the Scorched Sun Sect is very high, so much so that the Emperor has divided a separate religious territory in the Empire to accept only female followers and clergy, and even the Pope's visit can only be stayed in a specific area.
It was four centuries ago that the last Virgin passed away, and the appearance of Grevia has galvanized the entire Church, especially the religious collar of St. Mary.
Wearing the Virgin's robes meant accepting a return to tradition and answering the expectations of the Goddess' followers.
Grevia wasn't really that religious, and even though she had been chosen by Vanitia, she still didn't have a lot of inner turmoil.
She still remembered that night twelve years ago, when the curtain of clouds and the sky were burned bright crimson by flames, when every house, tall or short, was set ablaze, when the pungent smell of smoke and scorching filled the air, and when monsters with sharp teeth and claws, but cloaked in human skin, dragged helpless and innocent villagers to the center of the square.
They claimed to be here for Vanitaya's Divine Choice, and that as long as they handed over Vanitaya's Divine Choice, the rest of the people wouldn't have to be implicated anymore.
The obsidian star that colored the night sky into bright day fell on this village, and nearly everyone in the vicinity knew that the goddess's glimpses had come again after four hundred years, yet it wasn't the emissaries of the empire or the holy guards of the church that arrived first.
The first to arrive were a group of vile blood eaters who had removed their disguises.
Gravia was only five years old at the time, she didn't know what a god's choice was or what blood was, she just instinctively felt that she, who had received a gift from the heavens, should go out and take the blame for everyone, and that this group was here for her.
But her parents held her back, and the villagers kept their mouths shut, stacking up to form a human wall in front of the young Grevia.
Bitten off at the neck and drained of blood, they were roasted to a crisp as they screamed and wailed.
These hideous monsters began to torture and kill the villagers one by one, the familiar faces around them disappeared one by one, and one by one they turned into lifeless corpses, their faces twisted with pain before death.
The monsters smiled cruelly as they tortured the villagers, they seemed to have suppressed themselves for a long time and finally found a chance to release it, their eyes were full of madness and joy.
She remembered those faces.
She remembered that Mr. Angus next door had once carved a little wooden lamb for her, and she remembered that Sister Betty across the hall used to braid her long, silky, platinum hair into nice wheat braids for her ...
But now they were all dead, wretched, tortured beyond recognition.
All because of her, because she had reached out and caught the star from the sky as bright as obsidian.
There were fewer and fewer people protecting the front, and it wasn't until her parents were also dragged by their hair and carried to the fire that Grevia snapped out of this nightmare.
She stood up and told the monsters to stop hurting the villagers to stop hurting her parents, but the monsters laughed even harder, and it turned out that they hadn't intended to spare anyone.
In this way, the young Grevia kneeled on the ground stained with blood and charred ash, watched her parents in extreme pain and despair, bitten through the neck and drained of blood, the skin little by little to lose moisture and gradually withered and dried up, and finally even the two eyeballs always looking at their own shriveled up and withered.
O Vatitaya, if you are really the Goddess of the Coronation of the Sun who embraces the supreme power, why did you just cast down the stars of calamity and then never return?
O Vatitaya, if you are truly the Obsidian of Punishment, the symbol of absolute justice, why do you turn a blind eye to the ravages suffered by your devotees?
For the first time, Grevia prayed to the goddess who had bestowed her blessings before the clutches of the Blood Pretender reached out to her.
A magnificent glow descended from the sky once more, as if in answer to her prayers.
The figure that emerged from the dazzling light comparable to the sun's wheel held a long staff in her hand, and her bishop's robes with white and gold edges fluttered between the waves of air, and the despicable Blood Eaters were scattered to ashes in the scorching light.
This was her first encounter with the current Pope, when Bertram was still the Archbishop of the religious domain of Sarenz and had not participated in the election of the next Pope.
It was never because of any devout faith that Grevia donned the dress robes; she had dutifully taken the seat of the Holy Virgin in response to His Holiness' expectations.
"He obviously favors Edith a bit more though, after all, Edith has a nice smile."
Dragging her thoughts back from her memories to the present, Grevia looked up at the snowy peaks that towered into the clouds, the edges of the white clouds glowing with a faint grayish-blackness that seemed to signal that the next blizzard was near.
Edith was the Pope's adopted daughter, and unlike Grevia, they were truly kin to each other.
Grevia had tried to make herself smile, but no matter what it looked very stiff and awkward.
After that night, she lost the ability to be happy or sad, no longer laughing or crying, always with the same face to show people, so that she earned the title of "Ice Heart Virgin".
Therefore, she actually did not have any special jealousy or resentment towards her favored sister, after all, she did not have similar feelings.
However, it was worth mentioning that Edith seemed to have the cherished talent of being able to see through the disguises of the Blood Clan, if Edith had been present at that time, she might have been able to avoid a catastrophe, I really don't know how the Pope was able to get this kind of talent from the slums.
In her boredom, Grevia took the necklace that Bertram had given her before she left from the side pocket of her cloak, and grasped the silver chain, letting the sea-blue gem dangle down and sway gently from side to side.
The gem was emanating some kind of pale, mysterious glow, and deep within its depths slumbered a fluorescent blue elemental goblin curled up.
Incredible workmanship, unbelievable magical efficacy, a miracle in these days when the winds of blood crystals were thin, and yet Bertram had casually delivered this legendary talisman, which could probably buy half of Leiden's territory, to Grevia.
This was some kind of favoritism or care, right? Grevia thought casually in her mind.
The white birds suddenly hissed and flew high into the sky from the woods, flapping their wings in a hasty and lumbering motion, as if they were fleeing from something.
There was a strange feeling, and the saintess rose to her feet alertly.
"What is it, Your Highness?" A passing paladin noticed that Grevia was showing a slightly grave expression, and he offered to half-kneel forward, "Is there anything that I can help you with?"
There seemed to be some sort of voice.
Just before Grevia had a chance to reach out and signal the paladin to be quiet, an unseen, intense shockwave blasted violently out of the relic's gate.
The half-kneeling paladin in front of her instantly fainted and lay on his side, his silver armor clanging and smashing with no small amount of movement.
This was not an instance.
The unseen shockwave swiftly swept through this makeshift camp in front of the ruins, and everyone in the camp fell and lay down as if they were instantly unconscious, except for Grevia, who was still abruptly standing straight up.
The sound of shattering.
The jewel that hung from the necklace in her hand had faded to a dreamy deep blue, cracks slowly spreading across the polished surface as the elemental sprites deep within it withered and lost their luster.
Grevia bowed her head in silence for a while before gently looking up at the deep, dark entrance to the ruins.