When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 1171 Conversation and Engagement

"All you do is lie to me all the time."

Jeanne was already immune to Horn's sweet talk, but seeing that Horn had regained his composure, she didn't actually leave.

The glass reflected a bluish-green light as she tilted her head, a strand of black hair falling from her temple.

As Horn looked at Jeanne, Jeanne was also looking at Horn.

Horn is different now compared to before.

Compared to when he was eighteen, Horn is now the same age Catherine was back then, while Catherine is already over forty.

However, similar to Catherine, once Horn entered his youth, perhaps due to the power of his male and female witch bloodlines, he never aged again.

Catherine looked like a woman in her late twenties, while Horn still looked like a college student in his early twenties.

The candlelight cast a soft glow on Horn's tired yet serene face.

He had hair that just covered his ears, revealing a broad forehead, and his previously tanned skin, which had been exposed to the sun, had become much lighter.

He was wearing an ochre-red stand-up collar coat, with a glimpse of a white shirt sleeve peeking out from the cuffs.

This outfit easily evokes images of young monks or university students in the Holy Alliance government or monasteries, even sharing a similar demeanor.

It's as if time has never frozen.

"Brother, your birthday is next month, right?"

Jeanne's first words left Horn somewhat puzzled. He nodded, "Yes, just like before, the five of us will get together whenever we have time, have a simple meal, and drink some wine..."

Someone once suggested making the birthday of the grandson of Saint Sun a holiday, but Horn rejected it.

"After this birthday, you'll be thirty-one years old."

“Yes, I’m thirty-one already.” Horn was momentarily lost in thought; he hadn’t even lived to thirty-one in his previous life.

Having lived in this world for thirteen years, he could no longer remember many things from his previous life.

Aside from the memories of his parents and relatives that he had in his midnight dreams, he had forgotten most of everything else.

He has been in this world for too long and is already a little tired.

He had even forgotten what he looked like when he first came into this world.

The features of that face, once filled with resentment, selfishness, and hatred, are fading more and more.

On the contrary, the faces of those who died on the Sweat and Blood Road, in the Battle of Cheese Bay, and in the Battle of Grey Hill became clearer and clearer.

Horn always remembers it, always dreams about it.

"What are you thinking?"

"No, I was just feeling sentimental."

"Lamenting the passing of spring and the coming of autumn, is that another word you made up?" Jeanne took a sip of her cider. "Tell me, what would our lives be like now if that flood hadn't happened?"

"I wonder, should we just live a muddled life like ordinary farmers? And then die in some natural disaster?"

“You are thirty-one years old and I am thirty years old. If we were an ordinary farming family, our second child would already be able to work in the fields.”

In a few years, our first child will be getting married, and in a few more years, before they turn forty, they might become grandparents.

In a few years, you will fall ill from years of hard work, and I will die from a cold. Our children will inherit our fields and thatched cottage…

“No, that’s not right.” Horn smiled slyly. “Given your personality, after giving birth to your first child, you’ll definitely become a wandering knight mercenary.”

Jeanne paused for a moment, then continued with a smile: "And with your personality, you won't even need to have your first child before you quickly make a fortune through your little tricks, and then you'll drag us away to settle down in High Castle or Rapids."

"Hahahaha-"

Thirteen years is a long time, even for a farmer whose life is too monotonous.

For the imperial farmers, thirteen years is already a third of their lives.

Most of them don't live past forty; in the Holy Alliance, that number would be sixty.

But for Jeanne and Horn, they have a long future ahead of them.

The long lifespan of the high-ranking witches in the Holy Alliance gave them an advantage far beyond that of ordinary people—lifespan.

Madeleine is almost fifty this year, and his temples are already streaked with gray, while Armand, who was only fourteen back then, is now twenty-seven or twenty-eight. Time is the fastest thing in the world; it slips away in the blink of an eye, so fast that you can't even see it.

As their companions grew old and eventually died, especially Pasric's death, Horn and his companions were greatly shocked.

Horn suddenly realized that perhaps one day, even the youngest child in the children's army would grow old and die in front of him.

When all the familiar faces had passed away, it was as if he had inherited his own legacy and was now facing a completely new country.

After that, the only ones who will be able to accompany him are probably these old witch friends.

As for Jeanne, she suddenly lowered her head and began cutting the roast chicken on the plate.

Seeing that she had suddenly lost interest in talking, Horn lowered his head and picked up a burrito.

"What do you think about us having a child?" Jeanne asked, her head bowed, her silver knife slicing across the white plate, one stroke after another. "Like an ordinary farming couple."

"Fine, my power as Pope is unlimited. What can they do about illegitimate children?"

Halfway through his speech, Horn seemed to hear the sound of raindrops falling. He thought it was raining, but outside the window, the moon was bright and the stars were few.

"I mean, let's get married."

"What did you say?" Horn looked up blankly at Jeanne in front of him.

Jeanne's eyes shone under the light, and her crystal-clear tears, like jewels, slid down her cheeks one by one.

“I said, let’s get married.” Jeanne’s smile was bittersweet, yet relieved. “All of us, together.”

Horn knew perfectly well what "all of them" referred to.

The wedding of four saints: Jeanne, Carrie, Catherine, and Sylph.

Legally and traditionally, Pope Horn should not have married and had children.

However, in addition to his papacy, Horn himself was also the supreme ruler of the Holy Alliance.

Just as he said, whether a child is born in wedlock or not, who can say anything about it?
However, Jeanne had always disagreed. She always thought that once the Holy Alliance became prosperous, they would semi-retire.

They returned to the Holy Grail Mountain and the Moulin Rouge, and lived in seclusion, only venturing out of the mountain when the Holy Alliance was in danger.

Horn was exhausted, and so was Jeanne.

"What's wrong with you today?" Horn walked around to the other side of the table, hugged Jeanne, and held her face in his arms.

"I'm asking you, do you?" Jeanne suddenly stepped back, knelt on one knee, and revealed a ring. "As your knight, I'm proposing to you."

"Of course I hope so, but if it comes at the cost of hurting you, I'd rather not do it."

"What about offspring?"

"We live long enough."

"Wouldn't that be too lonely?"

Horn looked down and saw Jeanne raise her face, tears streaming down her cheeks.

He immediately knelt down and hugged Jeanne.

“I just suddenly realized,” Jeanne said, reaching out to touch the back of Horn’s head. “Like Grandma Vivian said, love is an illusion.”

I always wanted to break free from illusions and move towards the true love in my heart, but since the Harkin incident, I've come to a realization.

This matter is not that complicated. I want to shatter illusions and remove the mask, but there is nothing under the mask.

Our masks are our true selves, so just love them and don't worry about anything else.

"Is this what you really think?" Horn took Jeanne's hand and looked directly into her eyes.

Jeanne laughed: "Yes."

Horn laughed and said, "Okay."

Just before the Kingdom Expo ended, an explosive piece of news spread throughout the Holy Alliance.

The four saints have become engaged at the birthday party of the saint's grandson and are expected to hold their wedding next spring.

(End of this chapter)