Get My Hands on Something Like This

171. Get My Hands on Something Like This

In the front courtyard of Prince's Mansion, a rather strange scene was unfolding.

There were dozens of figures standing in the courtyard. Although they were of different ages, they were all dressed in luxurious clothes and were extraordinarily good-looking. But without exception, they were all girls.

Despite having heard about Mr. Prince's many daughters, Arnold Stark was still taken aback by the scene before him.

It seemed unlikely for Mr. Prince to have only one son and so many daughters unless he had some physical condition.

The other sons had likely either died or been secretly sent away…, the real master of this grand mansion was none other than the seemingly gentle Mrs. Prince standing before him.

Mrs. Prince cast her gaze across the crowd and cleared her throat softly.

In the next moment, the daughters parted swiftly, revealing a slender figure standing in their midst.

The young man had a pale, delicate face and wore a dark blue silk dogi. He appeared somewhat sickly.

"Boris, this is General Patani, the renowned martial arts instructor whom I personally invited from Cascadia for you. Come pay your respects."

Mrs. Prince appeared somewhat unsure at first, but her anxiety faded upon noticing how all the daughters averted their gaze from the figure in the simple black Sharara suit, feeling inadequate in her presence.

She was the most fitting embodiment of the phrase "ethereal beauty" that she could find, her presence radiating an effortless elegance.

She has no makeup on, wore no jewelry, no fancy clothes, yet she attracted everyone's attention.

Her fair complexion glowed like porcelain under the soft sunlight, accentuating her delicate features. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her shoulders in gentle waves, contrasting beautifully with her attire.

Her almond-shaped eyes, framed by thick lashes, held a depth of wisdom and warmth, as if they had seen a thousand stories.

Every movement she made was a dance of grace and poise, as though she glided rather than walked. The simplicity of her Sharara suit only enhanced her natural beauty, a testament to the fact that true elegance lies not in extravagance but in the quiet confidence of one's presence.

The delicate young man raised his eyes silently, paused for a moment, then took a step forward.

Upon seeing this, Mrs. Prince finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"General Patani," Boris Prince said, stepping forward with a slight bow.

"No need for such formality, Mr. Prince," Aisha Patani said with a gentle shake of her head.

"This child is shy, but he just needs time to warm up. Once you get to know each other better, he'll open up more," Mrs. Prince said with a forced smile.

Nearby, the silver bells at the two men's waists quivered gently, silently exchanging information.

"Something isn't right here," Arnold Stark frowned. "This isn't about teaching martial arts at all. This is clearly..."

"Yes."

"You see it too?"

"Yes."

"Then why aren't you reacting at all? General Patani is from our Cascadia..."

"I simply want to collect my rewards and be done with it."

I maintained a calm expression, waiting impatiently for their conversation to end so I could go retrieving my crystallization method.

As for everything else, I couldn't care less.

The matter was quite simple. No one in Cascadia could force Aisha Patani to do anything against her will. Since she had chosen to come here, there was no reason for others to meddle.

While I stood there growing increasingly bored and restless, Boris Prince suddenly clenched his fist and turned his gaze toward me.

My imposing dark armor and scarlet cloak cut an intimidating figure, while my expression remained serene as I gazed into the distance.

"Pardon me, General..."

Boris bowed again and, midway through his sentence, suddenly remembered something. "I—I am Boris Prince. May I ask for your name?"

Before he could finish speaking, Mrs. Prince suddenly remembered my presence. A subtle twitch appeared at the corners of her eyes as she stepped forward with a smile. "This is General Kane from Cascadia. He has important business at the Martial Abbey. Don't disturb him."

At last, I heard the words I had been waiting for.

I seized the opportunity to take my leave, saying "I do have important matters to attend to, please excuse me" in a tone that struck a perfect balance between respect and authority.

"Official business is important, General Kane, please feel free." Mrs. Prince said with an understanding nod.

I turned and walked out of the mansion. Arnold kept looking back worriedly at General Patani until I pulled him away.

Aisha silently watched the two figures leave, her fair hand concealed in her sleeve clenched slightly.

... …

As we left Prince's Mansion, Arnold Stark gritted his teeth. "How could the Admiral... how could he do such a thing!"

She was Cascadia's sharpest sword—meant for slaying vampires, not being pawned off in a marriage alliance!

Had age finally clouded his judgment? That senile fool!

Noticing that I had walked off, he hurriedly called after me, "General Kane, you're going the wrong way!"

Initially, I had assumed the Martial Abbey would resemble an ancestral hall.

However, under Arnold's guidance, I found myself before a towering cathedral on the street near Parliament.

"..."

Despite having seen many tall buildings in Seattle, I was still taken aback when I beheld the true face of the Martial Abbey.

It stood as a towering monument to martial prowess, its spires reaching toward the heavens, dwarfing the surrounding buildings and casting long shadows across the city streets.

Ancient stone walls, weathered and worn, were adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes of epic battles and legendary warriors.

Through stained-glass windows, brilliant colors painted scenes of Christ and Apostles, casting an otherworldly radiance. The massive oak doors of the grand entrance stood open, beckoning those worthy to enter and claim their rewards.

The structure's engineering didn't puzzle me. After all, I possessed enough power to crumble mountains. In a world where such might existed, this architectural feat was hardly surprising.

I just couldn't quite grasp the purpose behind building such a towering structure.

"General Kane, I know what you're thinking." Arnold said, having once shared similar doubts. Without further comment, he led me into the Martial Abbey.

In stark contrast to the ornate exterior, the interior was strikingly austere.

This minimalist design served a single purpose: to draw visitors' eyes toward the elevated platform in the middle of the Abbey.

On either side of that high platform stood six golden statues, each reaching forty feet tall. Unlike the Bodhisattvas and Buddhas enshrined in Buddhist temples, these golden statues appeared remarkably different—they seemed… alive.

They all wore different versions of H.A.R.M. uniforms, though cast in gold. Their eyes brimmed with emotion—some sorrowful, some weary, some restless.

Surrounded by the twelve golden statues stood a massive eighty-foot golden figure in the center, distinguished by its thick mustache and fierce, angry eyes.

Their faces were remarkably lifelike, their postures noble and towering, creating an overwhelming sense of authority.

I stood frozen, my mind in a daze.

Thanks to my Golden Eagle's divine sight, I could perceive a phantom dwelling within the eighty-foot golden statue.

Could this statue actually be alive?

"Don't stare at them," Arnold whispered, lowering his head. "These are the Vessels of Redeemer martial artists that New Terra has ever had."

Beyond the rank of Seeker of Redeemer lies the Vessel of Redeemer—those who have ascended to the Fifth Realm.

A Vessel of Redeemer forms when one uses the power of faith to create a golden vessel. When the Redeemed Spirit leaves its physical body and joins with this vessel, it transforms into legendary heroes.

After this transformation, they would be free from mortal weakness. As long as their Spirit remained intact and the people's faith endured, they could live for ten millennia.

"They are New Terra's supreme treasure—the Golden Vessels," Arnold said quietly, gazing up at the towering golden statue in the center. "And this is the Great Paladin, who brought us the Long Peace."

Anyone who enters the Abbey would feel an overwhelming sense of awe—their own existence seeming small and insignificant.

Arnold observed my dazed expression and reflected silently.

General Kane is naturally no exception, and it may probably take him a while to recover.

"..."

Staring at the majestic golden vessels, I felt a little conflicted.

If I could get my hands on something like this, wouldn't it be much easier to kill vampires in the future?