"You mean each Saintess comes from a different family?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes. The Devone Empire was founded by three women. They were once slaves, being transported when a monster attack occurred. Everyone else died in the chaos, but those three survived."

She paused, then continued softly.

"While fleeing, they discovered a legacy left behind by a powerful being—someone known as Asher Magnus. He was an extraordinary individual who eventually ascended beyond the Origin World, leaving fragments of his legacy behind."

Mike listened carefully.

"That legacy contained three great powers," she said. "Blood Ruler, Black Lightning, and Necromancy. Each of the three women inherited one."

Mike frowned slightly. "Those don't sound very… divine."

She gave a bitter smile. "No, they aren't. But history is written by those in power. The three women used those abilities to establish the Devone Empire, and over time, their powers were revered as 'divine blessings.'"

She continued, her tone growing colder.

"Each generation, the descendants of those three bloodlines compete. The one chosen becomes the Saintess—the symbol of the empire, the one who holds authority above all others."

"And I," she said quietly, "come from the Rukmani Indra family—the lineage that inherited the power of Black Lightning."

Mike let out a slow breath.

"So that's how it is…"

"So… you want my help so you can rise to the top?" Mike asked calmly.

She nodded. "Yes. Each Saintess candidate must choose a partner during the trials. That partner helps her prove her worth. I chose you."

Mike blinked. "And what do I get out of this?"

"You get to marry me," she said plainly, crossing her arms as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Mike raised both hands immediately. "No, thanks."

"What?" Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"I mean—don't get me wrong," he said quickly. "You're strong, beautiful, and all that. But I'm not exactly planning to get married right now."

She stared at him, stunned. "You're… rejecting me?"

"I'm just saying," Mike continued, scratching the back of his head, "I'm not interested in political marriages or becoming someone's tool. If I help you, I want something practical. Something that actually benefits me."

She narrowed her eyes. "Such as?"

"Resources. Information. Access. Support from the Devone Empire when I need it," he said calmly. "Things that help me grow stronger."

She studied him for a long moment, then slowly smiled.

"You really are different," she said. "Most men would have agreed without thinking."

"Most men aren't me."

She let out a soft laugh. "Very well. If you help me become the Saintess, I'll give you everything within my power—resources, information, protection. You'll have the backing of the Devone Empire."

She stepped closer, her gaze sharp but sincere.

"But know this—once you step into this, you'll be standing at the center of a storm. The other Saintess candidates won't forgive interference."

Mike smiled faintly. "Good. I was getting bored anyway."

She extended her hand.

"Then we have a deal?"

He shook her hand. "Deal."

"But," she added with a faint smile, tightening her grip on his hand, "marriage is still on the table. You know… I am a woman, and I do like strong men."

Mike immediately tried to pull his hand back. "Uh—no, no. I'm really not ready for that kind of thing."

She didn't let go. Instead, her grip tightened just a little—enough for him to feel the strength behind it.

"So?" she said lightly. "I don't mind if you have other women. I'm not the jealous type."

Mike froze. "That… is not reassuring."

She laughed softly. "Relax. I'm teasing. Mostly."

He finally managed to pull his hand free, rubbing his wrist. "You're way too dangerous."

She tilted her head, amused. "You noticed? Good."

Then she casually added, "By the way, I'm nineteen."

He blinked. "What?"

"I awakened at sixteen," she continued calmly. "I reached Rank Five in three years."

Mike stared at her. "That's… insane."

She shrugged. "That's what it means to be a Saintess candidate."

He exhaled slowly, reassessing her completely. So she's not just a political figure… she's a monster in her own right.

"And you still want me as your partner?" he asked.

She smiled—confident, composed, and completely certain of herself.

"Yes. Because you're even more abnormal than I am."

She folded her arms lightly. "Our founders also chose their partners based on strength. I'm simply following that tradition."

Mike sighed. "If you're already Rank Five, then I don't really see how I'd be much help."

She laughed softly. "Relax. I was just teasing. I'm not actually the weakest—among all the candidates, I'm the strongest."

He blinked. "Then why—?"

"My position is practically guaranteed," she continued calmly. "There are already countless nobles and heirs lining up to become my consort. Power, status, bloodline—they all want it."

She stepped closer, her expression turning thoughtful. "But I didn't come looking for that. I came looking for someone different."

Mike raised an eyebrow.

"I believe the Origin itself led me to you," she said softly. "I left the Empire and traveled for over a year, searching for a suitable partner."

"But I found no one," she continued. "And then, of all places, I found you—standing in front of a Rank 3 dungeon gate."

Mike frowned slightly. "You don't even know me. Why are you so interested?"

She looked at him calmly. "I don't care about your background. What matters to me is you."

She stepped closer, her gaze steady.

"Your strength. Your courage. Even when I told you who I was, you didn't hesitate or try to please me. You treated me like a normal person."

"Most would have fawned over me by now. After all, the Devone Empire is the strongest empire on this continent," she said.

"Yet you had the guts to kick away the opportunity to rule it."

She smiled faintly.

"I liked that."

Maybe I was smart enough not to get involved with a wolf in sheep's clothing like you, Mike thought, but he didn't say it aloud.

"Well then, why don't you prove it?" Mike said.

"Prove what?" she asked, tilting her head.

"I mean, show me you really like me. Come over, sit on my lap, and kiss me like you mean it," Mike teased, patting his thigh. "I know you're just playing with me—you don't actually plan to—mph—"

He stopped mid-sentence when soft lips pressed against his. His eyes widened as he realized Melina was already sitting on his lap, kissing him without the slightest hesitation.

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