Mistaken Match: Marrying the Enigmatic CEO
Chapter 2373; Double Saintess
The Blackshoot Princes was draped in a veil, her face concealed. But it was the gleam in her eyes that told Quintus everything, there was a smile behind that veil, one that was both enticing and dangerous.
Without warning, she jerked his wrist.
The strength took him by surprise, Quintus stood frozen. How could someone so delicate wield such raw power?
She was thin, almost fragile looking. Yet, that grip felt like iron.
With a fluid motion, she lifted his chin with two fingers, her voice soft but teasing.
“Such a shame. You’re not my type. But… you’re kinda cute in that confused, dazed way.”
“Witch!” Quintus snarled, fury rising in his chest. “Get your hands off me!”
He swung powerful punch at her chest, his anger fueling every ounce of strength he had.
But the Blackshoot Princes didn’t’ even flinch. Her other hand swept effortlessly to block his blow. She twisted with grace, and in a heartbeat, Quintus was sent stumbling off balance, his body a mere toy in her hands.
She moved like lightning, her leg rising with an elegance that belied its force.
The flash of her pale skin against the dark fabric of her dress was mesmerizing, a streak of white cutting through the dim light.
Thud.
A crushing weight slammed into Quintus’ chest, the impact sending him flying from the carriage. He hit the ground hard, skidding across the dirt and crashing into a mud pit. His body felt like it was shattering, the world around him spinning.
“Catch the assassin!” The shout came too late.
Quintus, battered and broken, pushed through the pain. He could barely move, but there was no time to lie down and bleed. He had to get up.
He was a Holy Guardian. If they caught him, there’d be no one left to protect Mackenzie. No one to find her.
Inside the carriage, the Blackshoot Princes peeked out, watching as Quintus struggled to regain his footing. Her lips curled into a soft, amused smile.
What an interesting man. He sure could take a beating.
Outside, the Blackshoot guards knelt, their voices filled with fear and regret.
They knew the consequences of failure all too well.
“We apologize, Your Holiness. We failed to protect you!” one of the guards cried, panic creeping into his voice.
“Hmph. Continue the march.” The Princess commanded, her voice laced with authority.
With a flick of her hand, the curtain cropped, and the Blackshoot Princes resumed her proud, regal posture.
Without missing a beat, the Blackshoot Tribe’s force moved forward.
Quintus crouched in the brush, spitting blood onto the ground. Despite the pain, he gritted his teeth and kept moving, silently trailing behind.
He couldn’t let any injury stop him from finding Mackenzie.
And what was the deal with this Saintess? He had to figure it out.
Using sheer willpower, Quintus pushed forward, eventually sneaking into the Mysticwood gathering site.
The place was a vast, grassy plain surrounded by mountains, doted with buildings of strange and unique designs. Around the open space, there were easily close to ten thousand people gathered.
“Blackshoot Princes has arrived!”
The crowd erupted in a frenzy at the announcement.
“Princess!”
“Princess!”
The atmosphere was electric.
Still reeling from his earlier loss, Quintus didn’t dare act rashly. He stayed on the outskirts of the crowd, doing his best to stay hidden. It was hard to see what was going on in the center, but safety came first.
What he hadn’t expected was that the arrival of the Blackshoot Princess would be followed by thousands more.
What the hell?
Quintus quickly covered his back with some grass, lying perfectly still, trying to blend in with the earth.
Peeking through the gaps in the grass, he saw the new arrivals, soldiers, their movements disciplined, eyes full of lethal intent. This was no more crowd, this was an army.
“The Great Saint King has arrived!”
The announcement was followed by another loud cheer. A massive carriage rolled in, the Great Saint King sitting solemnly within.
Seeing him sent a surge of excitement through Quintus.
It was the same man he had encountered back in Chanaea, the one who had nearly killed him!
It was clear now, he hadn’t been following the wrong trail after all.
Quintus had thought the Great Saint King would be the highest-ranking figure there, but just as he though that, the crowd reached a new level of frenzy.
“The Saintess has arrived!”
With the ceremonial procession in full swing, the entire crowd of ten to twenty thousand people erupted in unison.
“Saintess!”
“Saintess!”
Torches flared to life, their flames dancing wildly in the dark.
Cannons thundered, shaking the air.
The cheers of the crowd built, growing in force with every passing second.
It was a spectacle to epic proportions, no doubt even Chanaea would reserve such an extravagant welcome for their president.
“Mackenzie!”
When Quintus caught sight of her, his heart nearly exploded from his chest.
A women in white, seated in a white, veiled carriage, he knew it was her.
Even at this distance, even with the veil hiding her face, there was no mistaking it.
She was the one he had worshipped for years. His goddess. No matter what, he would have recognized her.
“Saintess!”
“Saintess!”
The crowd’s frenzy was palpable, voices rising to a deafening pitch in reverence.
It felt like a tidal wave of devotion, each person bowing to their deity, as though in the presence of a living god.
The Blackshoot Princess, cloaked in the shadows of her black-veil carriage, stared intently at the Saintess, her gaze unreadable, emotion masked.
Quintus caught fragments of the Mysticwood people’s conversations, their murmurs clarifying the unfolding scene.
“This is incredible! The true Saintess has returned to lead the Holy Fire!”
“Yeah, two Saintesses together, this has never happened in Mysticwood!”
“One’s the global Holy Fire Saintess. The other’s the Southroyal Princess who joined us later. Chose by the previous Great Saintess as her successor and granted the Blackshoot Saintess title. They’re not the same.”
“Shh, don’t speak so loudly!”
The whispers gave Quintus a clearer picture of what was happening.
Southroyal, one of the modern kingdoms, had kept its monarchy alive, with royals holding ceremonial power but no real control.
The woman who had knocked him out earlier, stronger than anything he could have imagined, was a Southroyal princess, kept alive by the old monarchy.
And she had joined Mysticwood? Even trained under the past Saintesses?
With the pieces finally falling into place, Quintus gritted his teeth. He had to move.
Taking advantage of the crowd’s distraction, he slipped to the outer edges. Quiet as a shadow, he ambushed a nearby Mysticwood man, dragged him off, and changed into his clothes.
Then, blending back into the throngs of people, he froze.
The erupted again, louder than before.
“Great Saintess!”
“Great Saintess!”
After what felt like an eternity, a figure cloaked in black and gold strode forward, flanked by ten powerful Mysticwood Elders.
Even the Great Saint and Blackshoot Princess stepped aside, acknowledging her presence without a word.
Her aura was palpable, commanding, unyielding.
The women, known as the Great Saintess, wore no veil. Time had touched her face, but Quintus ever the devoted Mackenzie fan, could still see it clearly. The resemblance to Mackenzie was uncanny, only now the face had aged with the weight of years.
“Mackenzie, my dear granddaughter, you’re finally returned!”
The Great Saintess pulled the white-robed Saintess into her arms, holding her close as the crowd erupted in deafening applause.
Around them, the Mysticwood Elders and people alike were visibly moved, some dabbing at their eyes, unable to contain their emotions.
This moment, to them was a sacred one, something they’d waited for.
Quintus stood frozen, his mouth open in disbelief.
Mackenzie’s true identity hit him like a lightning strike. The atmosphere around her had transformed her into something beyond mortal reach, almost divine.
How had he never known? And the tangled web of her past? Who could have predicted such a twist?
He blinked, trying to process everything. The Holy Fire organization, the very core of it, was built on Mysticwood’s power.
But then, his focus snapped back to Mackenzie.
Her eyes were unfocused, distant, like someone stepping into a strange new world for the first time. She whispered softly, “Grandmother?”
“Good girl.”
The Great Saintess gently brushed her veil covered face, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Your mother was lost in love, leaving Mysticwood behind. After all these years, we’ve finally brought you home.”
“Saintess!”
“Saintess!”
The crowd’s chant grew louder, a powerful wave of devotion.
The thousands of voices seemed like one a single unified call. They had been waiting for this moment, this return, like puppets yearning for their soul to come back to life.