The defeated saint is also on the way to tame the evil god today

"Even she has golden blood," Aurora whispered. "That shadow feeds on that blood."

"..."

Isis was silent for a long time, with complex lights flashing in her eyes.

As if time had stood still, the girl spoke softly:

"...I don't want any great achievements..."

"Oh? A gifted artist...you're going to refuse a gift?"

"I just want a stable life," Isis took a deep breath, "Please, no matter who you are... don't make things difficult for me..."

"..."

Hearing the girl's answer, the shadow trembled slightly.

After a long time, Shadow said:

"...your wish will be granted..."

The shadow quickly dissipated, and Isis felt the cheers of the crowd return again, as if the conversation just now had never happened.

She quickly calmed herself down, and waved goodbye to the crowd with a smile as if nothing had happened.

What she didn't notice was that in a corner of the park not far from the stage, a dazed young man was staring at her blankly.

Later, she would realize that the young man was Letes Agomont, the man who had been marked by the devil on the same day as her.

And everything that has a price tag will eventually be fulfilled.

......

9) Doll's Little Sadness (Part 6) -1w- (Level up and more)

A demon, a demon that hovers in the blood...

Whether it's the Golden People or the Garo people, he can follow you like a ghost and whisper in your ears.

The jackal is the symbol of the "Immortals".

They are carrion eaters and are often found in cemeteries, so they are revered by the Garo people as messengers of death.

And among those wearing jackal masks, only one possessed the terrifying spiritual pressure displayed by that shadow—

——『The Supreme Praise』

This is how he was, spending centuries whispering in people's ears, appearing behind people through his golden bloodline, and tempting them with his whispers.

"......"

Watching Isis leave the stage with lingering fear and walk towards the exit of the park, Xingmo felt a chill.

"That kind of thing, even just his existence makes me feel uncomfortable..." Xingmo muttered.

"He has some strange qualities," Aurora whispered. "Perhaps he's more than just a demigod."

"It can't be an 'angel', right?" Xing Mo said.

"That's impossible. If it was an angel, he would have caught us in Lights's dream," Aurora shook her head. "We assume he possesses some powerful holy artifact."

A powerful holy object?... Xingmo frowned, thinking about the various characteristics displayed by the "Supreme Praiser".

But due to the lack of information, she did not come to any conclusion with sufficient evidence.

"Let's keep watching."

Aurora waved her hand gently, and the black and white lights alternated again, and the scene blurred and reconstructed again.

This time, the scene changed to Isis's bedroom.

She was sitting in the corner blankly, holding a stack of manuscript paper in her hands, with a blank look in her eyes.

In front of her, Xingmo saw a letter torn into pieces.

Although the letter was damaged, the words inside were clearly visible in the air:

"...We regret that your performance at the Hanging Garden Poetry Festival has been cancelled..."

Not far from the letter, a torn newspaper was spread out on the ground, with a huge black and white headshot on it:

"...Will Letos Agomont become a representative figure of the imperial avant-garde poetry?"

The girl clenched her fists silently. She had been preparing for this moment for a long time: for several months, she had been repeatedly revising the poem she was going to recite at the grand ceremony, and the discarded manuscript paper was probably taller than her.

The reason is simple, because whoever steps onto that stage will get a real position in the "Hanging Garden" and become the court poet.

Isis made enough money by publishing poetry, but she spent most of her time wandering around the city. She had no stable place to live, and it was even more difficult to ensure her future life.

Isis had waited a long time for this opportunity, and there was a lot of support from the people for her.

Almost everyone thought that she was about to step onto the big stage of the Sky Garden and recite her masterpiece to the entire New Galo.

But she was not selected.

The person who replaced her was actually Letes Agomont.

Isis knew the man: he had made advances to her countless times, even pretending to apply by reciting poetry on her doorstep.

That guy seemed to want to prove that he and Isis had the potential to become soul mates, but in fact, Isis didn't even bother to communicate with him.

The guy's words are basically made up of broken stitches and lifeless vernacular, which can't be called excellent at all.

But why?

Why was he about to take that stage, and she...

Isis covered her face and began to cry.

At this moment, she felt like a puppet on the stage, her limbs being pulled by the strings of fate.

Those struggles against fate and the profound feelings expressed in poems seemed to be nothing but her self-righteous illusions.

不 ...

wrong...

It shouldn't be like this...

Isis raised her head and looked at the peeling ceiling, her eyes flashing with the day eight years ago.

That day... the shadow of the jackal haunted her...

The Jackal's words seemed to have passed through the light and shadow of eight years and reached the present moment:

"...I can help you achieve great things..."

Isis stood up.

She suddenly understood.

"Buzzing..."

The scene began to blur and change again, and this time, Xing Mo felt that the dream in front of him was trembling like water waves, as if a strong wind was blowing across the lake.

"What happened?" she murmured.

"We're getting closer to the truth," Aurora said softly. "The memories that follow will be her most painful."

"...the most painful...?"

Xingmo's eyes flickered. She couldn't imagine what kind of experience would turn a girl into a doll.

She seemed to have figured something out in her memories. Was it about the jackal?

If so, then it can only be said that she is very perceptive: whether it is Lights using high-purity golden blood to create the "Song of the Sand" or Isis being banned from the stage of the "Hanging Garden Poetry Festival", it is actually the work of the "Supreme Praiser" behind the scenes.

So why did the Praiser appear behind Isis eight years ago?

She does not have the bloodline to chant the "Song of Sand", so she and Lights have no replacement relationship.

"..."

With a lot of questions in mind, Xingmo focused his attention and prepared to watch Isis's most painful memories.

Soon, the scene in front of him came back to life - the garden scenery appeared in front of Xingmo.

But this is not an ordinary garden, but the back garden on the "Sky Garden".

Isis was standing on the terrace of the garden, gazing at the city walls in the distance and overlooking the magnificent scenery within the city.

She held the railing tightly, but her face was calm.

"Hey, Miss Isis, it seems that you have changed your mind?"

A pompous voice came from behind, with an uncomfortable tail.

Isis turned around and saw Letes walking slowly towards her with a smile on his face that he thought was very charming.

He has completely changed. He is no longer the disheveled "idiot", but an artist dressed in silk and wearing a wreath on his head.

Seeing this man whom she had rejected countless times, Isis pursed her lips slightly and spoke softly:

"You've completely changed."

"I'm glad you realized this," Letes came to Isis's side, "Yes, my talents have been realized, those talents that you once didn't think highly of."

He placed great emphasis on the word "talent".

"Congratulations..." Isis whispered.

"Oh, I'm glad you think so. After all, you never responded to me before..."

Leites turned his head, the smile on his face becoming more obvious.

He looked at the beauty in front of him: Isis, who once had the aura of a poet, now looked like a homeless deer, with her head lowered and the light in her eyes dim.

Leitzi knew that since his poems spread throughout the streets and alleys of Singara, almost all other poets in the city had fallen into obscurity.

His poetry seems to have magical power, which can make anyone who hears it fall into it and be captured by his melody.

After that, other poetry no longer appealed to them.

Letts could almost imagine what kind of life Isis was leading now: she hadn't received any invitations from nobles for a long time, which meant that she could only live on the meager royalties.

And those royalties will foreseeably dry up as her works become less popular.

How is she supposed to eat then? Could it be...

"By the way, I heard you're a mechanical engineer?" Lights chuckled. "Is that enough to support you?"

"Just barely," Isis whispered.

"Then it seems that you do need some help... Hehe... It's very sensible that you found me, the only one you can rely on..."

Letes walked in front of Isis and slowly reached out his hand towards her chin.

The jealousy, admiration, and desire I once had were all within reach at this moment, just a little bit away...

But Isis dodged.

The girl took two steps back, as if she had made up her mind, her eyes flashing as she stared at Letes.

Seeing her actions, Letes' eyes froze slightly:

"you..."

"I'm not here to ask for your mercy..." Isis whispered, "I'm here to ask you to tell me the truth."

"The truth? What truth?"

"You pollute their truth with poetry."

"..."

A breeze blew from high in the sky, brushing the outline of the garden and splashing ripples among the flowers.

Lights was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter:

"Hahahaha! Pollution? Miss Isis, you really know how to joke."

"That's my talent! It took me eight years! Eight years to..."

"You just obeyed the words of that shadow and became a puppet?" Isis clenched her fists.

Letes froze again, a flash of fear crossed his face, and he stared straight at Isis: