My Seven Wives Are Beautiful Saintesses - Chapter 177

Chapter 177: Chapter 177: The Melting of the Frozen Heart
The conquest of the Divine Forge Valley marked a pivotal moment, not just for the war effort, but for the intricate dynamics within the Void Emperor’s inner circle.

With Aria’s feud settled and the industrial might of the Eastern Continent now fueling Vahn’s war machine, the Empress Consorts presented a unified front of terrifying power and efficiency.

Evelina Frostheart, the captive Saintess of Ice, had been an unwilling passenger throughout this rapid expansion. Confined to comfortable but secure quarters aboard the Imperial Dreadnought, she watched the strategic unfolding of the war through the ship’s massive observation deck.

She witnessed Aria’s tactical brilliance during the slaughter of the ambush, the unwavering ruthlessness of Lilith during the subjugation of the Dark Lands, and the calm, vitalizing presence of Seraphina managing the supply lines and morale.

She saw them wield the incredible Divine Grade Weapons Vahn had personally forged for them—weapons that symbolized not just power, but profound, unreserved commitment.

“They are free. They are loved. They are Queens,” the thought played on a loop in Evelina’s mind.

The icy certainty that Vahn was merely a chaotic demon began to thaw under the constant heat of this evidence. Vahn was brutal to his enemies, but his actions were consistently pragmatic, resulting in widespread prosperity and justice for the common people—something her own “Righteous Faction” had never achieved.

Seeing Aria, Seraphina, and Lilith fight together to build a better future, a future Vahn promised and delivered, shattered the foundations of Evelina’s cold heart.

Previously, she couldn’t stand Vahn’s presence, viewing him as a monstrous aberration. But now, as she watched him work, calmly directing fleets, forging spiritual weapons, and treating his Empresses with genuine respect and protection, she began to yearn for his closeness. She craved the security and acceptance she saw him give freely to the women who had chosen him.

The Void Armada was once again underway, speeding toward their next target: the Land of Alchemy. The journey offered a brief reprieve from battle.

That night, under the cold, silent light of Dalu’s three moons, Evelina left her cabin. Dressed in simple, elegant robes, she walked with studied indifference to the main, empty observation deck where Vahn often reviewed the stars, using them as a navigation guide.

Vahn was there, looking out at the expanse of space, his aura vast and calm. He immediately sensed her presence and turned with a knowing gentle smile on his face.

“Saintess Evelina,” Vahn greeted her softly. “Did you require something? Are your accommodations acceptable?”

Evelina swallowed hard, her throat dry. The words she had rehearsed for days felt impossible to speak. Her Saintess pride, her noble upbringing, her entire identity as the pure, untouchable Saintess of Ice battled against the raw, desperate need to belong. She was awkward and blushing, the color rising rapidly on her usually pale, cold cheeks.

She finally forced the words out, looking anywhere but at him.

“I… I came to admit a mistake,” she began, her voice a barely audible tremor. “I was wrong about you. About everything. My Gods used me as a tool, and my pride blinded me to the truth of this world’s suffering.”

She clenched her fists, her confession a monumental act of self-effacement.

“I have watched your Empresses. They are powerful, they are free, and they share something profound with you. I confess… I feel a consuming jealousy toward them.”

Tears, alien to her icy persona, welled in her eyes.

“I realized my entire life was a lie based on a position of false superiority. I want… I want what they have. I want the purpose, the freedom, and the protection of the Void Emperor, My Ex Husband.”

Vahn walked toward her. He could sense how much she was struggling to say those words, how she had to utterly forget her pride and nobility to make this admission.

He stood directly before her, his massive presence radiating warmth instead of cold.

He smiled, not with arrogance, but with tender understanding.

He went forward and simply hugged her.

Evelina gasped, melting into his embrace. The cold of her ice mana reacted violently to the Void energy, but instead of clashing, the energies stabilized, creating a new, resonant spiritual harmony that shook her to her core.

“Your mistake, Evelina, was believing a beautiful lie,” Vahn murmured into her hair.

“Your courage is choosing the painful truth. I do not want a puppet or a tool. I want a Queen of Ice, worthy of the Void Empire.”

Vahn lifted her chin, meeting her tear-filled, now luminous blue eyes. “Your spirit is pure, Saintess. Let us seal your choice, not with a pact of servitude, but with a Vow of Eternal Companionship.”

He kissed her. It was a deep, tender kiss, not one of dominance, but of acceptance and integration.

The ice Saintess, once the most formidable opponent, submitted fully to the warmth of his love and the boundless power of the Void.

Ding!

[ Your Bond With Evelina Frostheart Is Unlocked. Progress: 36% ]

[ Rewards Gained: Dan God’s Inheritance (Divine) ]

—

The armada continued its relentless push, now sailing with the newly affirmed Empress Evelina Frostheart standing proudly beside Vahn on the bridge.

The Army arrived at the borders of the Land Of Alchemy, a fertile, scientifically focused Holy Land located on the central continent, renowned for its spiritual resources, pill concoction, and fire-elemental mastery. This was the domain of the Saintess of Fire.

As Vahn prepared the Warships for engagement, deploying scouting drones and readying the Void Cannons, a shocking sight greeted them.

Above the main citadel of the Holy Land of Alchemy, a stark white flag was waving.

Vahn squinted. “A white flag? They surrender before the first shot?”

Moments later, a small, highly ornate spiritual craft ascended from the capital city and approached the Imperial Dreadnought.

On the main deck, Vahn received the envoys. Stepping out of the craft were two figures: the stern, powerful Patriarch Xuom Astoria—the ruler of the Land of Alchemy—and the young, sweet-looking Saintess Flama (the Saintess of Fire).

They walked onto the deck and immediately bowed deeply, not in defiance, but in complete, respectful submission.

“Greetings, Void Emperor,” Xion Astoria announced, his voice devoid of hostility. “We have arrived for peace talk. We have seen the swift justice you brought to the Holy Land of Ice and the Divine Forge Valley. The Land of Alchemy recognizes the futility of resistance and the promise of progress under your dominion.”

Vahn stood impassively on the command deck of the Imperial Dreadnought, flanked by his four formidable Empresses—Seraphina, Lilith, Aria, and the newly welcomed Evelina.

The Patriarch Astoria and the young, gentle fire-looking Saintess Flama of the Land of Alchemy knelt before them, their submission absolute.

Vahn’s gaze, now capable of piercing conceptual reality, rested primarily on Saintess Flama. She was the polar opposite of her fiery domain: sweet, slightly nervous, and radiating a controlled, inner heat that bespoke immense potential, yet lacked the hardened malice of the previous Saintesses.

“Patriarch Astoria,” Vahn’s voice was measured, yet held the finality of an executioner’s pronouncement. “You fly a white flag. Am I to understand you have come here to surrender your sovereignty to the Void Empire?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Astoria replied instantly, his voice firm. “We came to surrender completely and unconditionally.”

The simple, unforced admission of defeat was surprising. The Holy Lands were usually defined by arrogance.

“Excellent,” Vahn said, granting a flicker of approval. He gestured toward his newly integrated Empress of Ice.

“Evelina, escort the Patriarch and Saintess to the private strategic chamber. We shall discuss the terms of this transition.”

Inside the chamber, the atmosphere was less tense, marked by the aroma of rich spiritual tea. Vahn sat opposite the Patriarch and Saintess Flama.

“We will dispense with the prolonged formalities,” Vahn began. “The Land of Alchemy is valuable. Your alchemical knowledge and manufacturing capacity are unmatched on Dalu. I require absolute control over your industrial output, your treasury, and your military forces.”

Patriarch Astoria nodded immediately. “Those terms are acceptable. We understand the necessity for centralized control during a cosmic conflict.”

VVahn then turned his focus to the young woman. Saintess Flama, the fire-elemental master, was nervously tracing the rim of her teacup.

“And you, Saintess Flama,” Vahn continued. “Your predecessor in the Holy Land of Ice resisted. Your peers in the Holy Land of Darkness and the Divine Forge Valley chose opposition and were crushed. Your position as the spiritual core of this territory is essential. I require your spiritual allegiance and your personal bond to the Void Empire.”

Flama lifted her head, her fiery eyes meeting his. She did not look fearful, but determined.

” Vahn,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady. “The Land of Alchemy has witnessed the fate of those who resist you, and the prosperity of those who submit to your order. We also seek safety, not war.”

She placed her hands flat on the table, offering herself as a strategic asset. “The Land of Alchemy and Saintess Flama will forever belong to you, Emperor Vahn. In return, you must protect this land and its people from the coming storm of the Celestial Gods. We seek refuge beneath your banner.”

Flama then nodded shyly, a slight blush spreading across her cheeks. It seemed she had no problem with the personal arrangement, understanding that her spiritual power was now Vahn’s to command and protect, a concept familiar to the system of Saintesses, but now under a new, powerful master.

Vahn smiled, a genuine, satisfied smile. “Done. I accept your surrender and your vow. The Land of Alchemy is now a territory of the Void Empire, and you shall be integrated as Empress Flama, the Empress of Flame.”

With the spiritual pact of allegiance sealed—a far simpler contract than the binding Soul Pacts he had imposed on the Demons—Vahn focused on the critical, non-military information.

“Patriarch Astoria,” Vahn pressed. “The Celestial Empire chose to ambush me, not defend you. You clearly know something. What is Emperor Sirius planning that necessitated your immediate surrender?”

Patriarch Astoria’s demeanor shifted to grave concern.

“Your Majesty, we still have active intelligence networks among the six Holy Lands that Emperor Sirius controls. He is not just preparing to defend the Tower of Primordials; he is preparing to weaponize it.”

“He has gathered the most powerful spiritual engineers and artisans from the Divine Forge Valley, before your arrival. He is building a massive, sacrificial Dimensional Focusing Array within the Tower itself. The purpose is clear: to stabilize the gate and allow Goddess Attila to descend faster and with higher divine power than predicted.”

Astoria leaned in, his voice barely a whisper. “The schedule has accelerated, Emperor. They are planning the grand descent in less than a month. He means to strike before you can fully consolidate you rule.”

Vahn’s smile did not waver, but his dark eyes grew sharper.

He had secured the Land of Alchemy just in time, but the time he gained by seizing the Forge Valley had already been negated by Sirius’s frantic preparations.

Vahn gave a sharp nod. “I was prepared for the eventuality of a shorter timetable. Now, Patriarch, inform your people: the protection of the Void Empire is absolute. Let your Cauldrons run hot. We are going to war.”