The Sixty-Sixth Scene: Meeting the Saint of Emptiness【Second Update】

At this moment, the Son of the Void sat upon the towering divine throne. He was clearly visible to the naked eye, yet to the spiritual senses, his presence was nothingness—only when he spoke could one perceive the faintest ripple of magical power, proof that he truly existed.

His words were unremarkable, his voice steady and low, his tone as casual as ordinary conversation. Yet to the Saint of a Hundred Blossoms, every syllable crashed like thunder, sending tremors through her heart. Her stomach churned as if overturned by storms, and she lost composure, collapsing to the ground, sweat beading on her brow.

The Son of the Void uttered a single phrase: “Give birth.”

“No!” the Saint of a Hundred Blossoms cried out in alarm, but when the Son of the Void’s vacant eyes swept over her, she felt as if doused in icy water. Her limbs went stiff and numb, as though she might vanish at any moment. She hurriedly pleaded, “The child, there’s a problem. You know my essence is incomplete—the child I bear has a flawed soul, it cannot be born…”

Her voice faded into silence as she felt her body begin to dissolve, starting from her toes—slowly, bit by bit, the nothingness crept upward: legs, waist, chest. She could no longer hear her own heartbeat. Only her womb remained, warm and present, and she clung to the hope that with the child existing, he would not dare erase her outright; after all, she was still a Seated Saintess.

Yet apparently, her status was insufficient to make the Son of the Void hesitate. The tide of oblivion did not slow; from her shoulders to her neck, chin, lips, and tongue, it climbed inexorably—until she was submerged.

Only her consciousness remained, and she kept telling herself this must be an illusion—but as her awareness thinned, true fear finally gripped her.

Without her, only the womb would remain, but the child could still be nurtured. The Son of the Void wouldn’t go so far, would he? Then he’d say she had suffered during pregnancy and let her resign for maternity, and when she disappeared into his palace, no one would care.

I’ll give birth, I’ll do it…

In her mind, the Saint of a Hundred Blossoms screamed her silent surrender. Suddenly, a faint voice pierced the stillness and darkness.

“He lives, so do you.”

“I will give birth,” she answered with a trembling voice. Suddenly, her consciousness reconnected with her body, and she found herself sitting on the ground. Not until an attendant invited her to a side hall did she dare look up—by then, the Son of the Void had vanished without a trace. The attendants, respectful yet firm, escorted her to a chamber, where nourishing tonics were immediately brought—every one of them chosen for the health and safety of the unborn child.

This shouldn’t be, she thought in despair. Why would they let her give birth? As long as the child existed, she could perceive the essence of her origin through the child’s soul. But once the fetus matured, the soul would be extinguished, and a soulless child, born into the world, would be nothing but a stillbirth.

Unless…

A sudden thought struck her, and the Saint of a Hundred Blossoms shot to her feet. Her expression changed from dark to bright and back again as she lowered her gaze, focusing her awareness inward. Carefully, she examined the child—and found that the soul light, which represented the fetal spirit, shone as brilliantly as a pearl, without the slightest dimness.

“A complete soul? He didn’t use it. Impossible. Who could resist the temptation of the Sea of Origins? Or… does he know that perceiving the source would affect the child?”

She shuddered. Among cultivators, procreation was so difficult that offspring were treasured above all else. But as long as both parties’ powers were within two ranks, conceiving a child was simple. At first, losing one or two children pained her; but after ten or eight, she felt nothing. By now, children were nothing but nourishment—nothing more.

Yet only the father could perceive the origin through the child, and whatever benefit he gained, she received half. None of the previous fathers could resist the temptation—they all burned away their own child’s soul, and the soulless fetus conveniently replenished her body. When Saina learned the truth, he actually blamed her, called her cruel, and refused to let her continue her cultivation.

The Son of the Void was even more ruthless—and he was not Saina; he would not allow her to have her way.

If she could not use the child, she would gain nothing; worse, she would have to sacrifice her own power to nourish the child in turn.

“No, I can’t just sit here and wait for my fate.” The Saint of a Hundred Blossoms straightened and strode toward the great doors, but the attendants blocked her path. Her expression darkened. “Move aside! I am one of the Seven Seated Saintesses—am I not even allowed to return to my own Palace of Flowers?”

The attendants remained unmoved, blocking her way as before. “Please wait. I must report this to my superiors.”

Soon, the Chief Aide arrived with a message from the Son of the Void. “Your Highness of the Hundred Blossoms, please take good care of yourself. Archbishop Anthony and Lord Qining have come to an agreement. Please, do not harm the child again. Our lord can cover for you this once, but there will not be a next time.”

The Saint of a Hundred Blossoms bit her lip. “Tell me the result.”

The Chief Aide replied, “Your reproductive essence has been exposed. We recommend that you join the seat of the God of Procreation. For those races desperate for offspring, the morality of the god they worship is irrelevant. If handled well, this could be your chance to rise. But first, before the young lord is born, you must cease all public activities and work, and remain at rest until the child is safely delivered.”

She was silent for a long time before she asked, “Very well. When is the wedding?”

“Wedding?” The aide was puzzled at first, then caught on, a mocking look in his eyes. “There will be no wedding. His lordship only wants the child. You are free.”

“You…” The Saint of a Hundred Blossoms suddenly recalled the look the Son of the Void had given her. The words on the tip of her tongue were swallowed back. Only when her own attendants and knights arrived and escorted her back to the Palace of Flowers did she realize her thoughts were still in chaos.

“Your Highness, Lord Qining refuses to see you. He said, as an adult, you must take responsibility for your own actions.”

The attendant delivered the message and withdrew, leaving the Saint of a Hundred Blossoms alone in the hall.

Several years had passed, and the child was already fully developed. She had deliberately suppressed the birth. Although she had not shared in the laws perceived by the Son of the Void, absorbing the child now would still allow her to replenish some of her own strength.

The Saint of a Hundred Blossoms pressed her palm to her abdomen, yet could not bring herself to act.

She had always believed that, as a Seated Saintess, even the Chief must show her some deference. But today, the Son of the Void had shown her just how insignificant she truly was. Lord Qining could not even be bothered to see her; Archbishop Anthony, with a single sentence, stripped her of her authority over her independent faith district.

“Isn’t a Saintess supposed to be important? Why don’t they care? I am a Seated Saintess, while Sang Hongye is merely a candidate—so why am I the one who loses?” she murmured. In truth, she already knew: Archbishop Qining and Archbishop Anthony had settled the matter between them, with Anthony now in power. She had already been abandoned. “He lives, I live. If he dies, must I die too?”

If she bore only this one child, it might be fine. But now that her reproductive essence had been exposed, if she gave birth and everything went smoothly, all those elders desperate for heirs would come flocking to her. She might become nothing but a breeding machine.

She considered this and dared not risk it. In the end, she withdrew her hand and left the hall.

“I want to see Saina.”

Saina was clever—he must have a solution.

But where was Saina?

On the Starnet, even insulting a child too harshly would bring the Child Protection Organization to your door; those orchestrating such events behind the scenes could never escape unscathed. The Saint of a Hundred Blossoms had someone take the blame and paid the fines. Saina received the forgiveness of the involved party and, with Archbishop Anthony’s guarantee, retained his guardianship status, but the visit to the Tribunal was unavoidable.

P.S.: Dear sisters, don’t forget to bookmark and recommend after reading~