Pandora!
A dangerous box-opening ace.
She is the commander of the Underworld, the sister of the reincarnated vessel of Hades, a woman who released the twin gods of Sleep and Death and brought death and calamity into the world.
Pandora is exceptionally wise and meticulous in thought. Bestowed with divine powers by the twin gods, she can travel between the Underworld and the human realm.
She, though a woman, commands the Underworld's 108 Specters and the entire Underworld army. As Hades's right hand, her power is equivalent to the Pope of the Sanctuary—beneath the gods, above all others.
Pandora holds the key to Hades's resurrection and descent. Every generation's descent of Hades is inseparable from her.
One could say that her appearance is the signal that the Holy War has begun.
But according to the Saint Seiya timeline, those few Bronze toughies haven't even obtained their Cloths yet, Saori hasn't returned to her place, Evil Saga is still serving as Pope, and it's far too early for the Underworld War.
What are you doing in the Sanctuary this early?
You even came to the Sanctuary graveyard, got taken in by Shaina as a disciple, and became my little junior sister?
Pandora's true form is a cold, stunning beauty. Now that she has taken on a child's appearance and slipped into the Sanctuary, she must have a plan.
But damn it, everything is a mess.
This kind of major event that deviates from the main plot line gave Damian a headache.
"Should I take a ruthless hand with a delicate flower?"
Narrowing his eyes, a cold light flashed within them as he slowly raised his fist...
Damian was a transmigrator.
A year ago, he inexplicably crossed over into the Sanctuary founded by Athena, the goddess of wisdom and war, becoming a Saint candidate with the same name.
He also had a beautiful teacher.
That was Shaina of Ophiuchus, a Silver Saint. The tall Cassios who once failed to win the Pegasus Cloth from Seiya was his junior.
In the Sanctuary, he could see the young Seiya, who had yet to obtain the Pegasus Cloth, and Marin, the Silver Saint of Aquila. Occasionally he could also glimpse a few of the future Bronze Saints.
These candidates were about twelve or thirteen, none had awakened the Cosmo, and they were basically weaklings.
There was no Athena in the Sanctuary; presumably the goddess was still in Japan as Saori Kido.
The lofty Pope, meanwhile, was actually Saga, a madman, in disguise.
At first, Damian was quite pleased about crossing over.
With a beautiful Saint like Shaina to teach him, it felt like he had a cheat.
He figured it wouldn't be long before he ignited his Cosmo, grasped the Seventh Sense, became a Gold Saint, took the Pope's seat, beat Hades to a pulp, and married Athena—riding the fast track to the pinnacle of life!
Unfortunately, dreams are full and reality is skinny.
As a Saint candidate, the daily training alone showed Damian what real hell on earth was.
Any nameless small fry candidate here had freakish physicality, each one like an Olympic champion.
They ran faster than Usain Bolt, swam better than Michael Phelps, punched harder than Mike Tyson, and each was a strongman who could single-handedly hoist well over a thousand pounds.
Even though Damian trained desperately, he was still left in the dust by those candidates no one even knew by name. In pure training metrics, any Sanctuary candidate could crush him.
What happened to the promised Cosmo eruption?
What happened to becoming a Gold Saint?
What happened to punching Hades to death?
What happened to letting Athena go on maternity leave?
You have to understand, this is the Sanctuary where Saints gather—might makes right, and the strong are revered.
If he couldn't stand out among these candidates, he'd be a small fry grunt for life. Even if he survived the Twelve Temples, Asgard, and Poseidon, he'd definitely never survive Hades's Holy War. On a bad day he could get stomped to death by someone.
Facing reality, Damian simply threw in the towel and, with Shaina's tacit consent, secluded himself in the Sanctuary graveyard to become a gravekeeper.
He intended to find a chance to leave the Sanctuary and live as an ordinary man, but then he awakened a special System.
He thought he could lie low in the graveyard and quietly make a fortune, but then ran into someone who shouldn't be here.
The source of the chaos was now lying right in front of him.
To kill?
Or not to kill?
Damian's eyes flickered, and he finally lowered his fist. "This girl cannot be killed. She is the commander of the Underworld, Hades's proxy. Even if she dies, there's a way to bring her back. And if I kill her, I won't be able to explain it to Shaina or the Sanctuary."
He did want to remove this ticking time bomb, but exposing himself for it wasn't worth it and would likely cause big trouble.
I mean, Pandora's an Underworld big shot after all. It wouldn't make sense for her to show up empty-handed. I can search her more carefully. Maybe I'll find some profit or leverage.
Yeah, let's do that!
With that thought, he pressed down on Pansy's wrist and once more channeled his pure Cosmo and telekinesis into her, probing along her meridians and bones.
Pansy looked asleep, but she was already awake.
She could only play possum and curse inwardly.
This... this senior brother Damian is really not a proper man.
I have to endure!
W-What are you doing?
So ticklish...
A moment later, Damian withdrew his hand—still empty-handed.
He had used every method and found not the slightest flaw on her.
For Pandora to enter the Sanctuary disguised as a little girl, she had probably even remade her body.
He sensed only a faint Cosmo coiling on her, its source in her bones. But her bones were soft and delicate, wholly those of a child—no abnormalities at all.
It meant Pansy had already sensed the presence of the Cosmo.
To grasp the Cosmo at such a young age—that's a prodigy!
No wonder Shaina took Pansy as her disciple.
So now I'm just going to let this box-opening ace wreak havoc across the Sanctuary and drag me, a quiet, handsome man, into endless strife?
Absolutely not!
I'll make you pay in small ways.
"Little Pansy is so cute."
"If you don't behave in the future, I'll spank you hard."
"I'm best at being ruthless with a delicate flower, heh heh heh..."
Damian muttered to himself, even letting out a weird laugh.
...That sounds terrifying?
He wants to be ruthless with a delicate flower?
With a laugh that devilish—is this guy a demon?
Feigning sleep, Pansy was completely baffled. Her instincts made goosebumps break out all over her.
She had just infiltrated the Sanctuary, and danger was already in the air.
Suddenly, she felt her little leather shoes being taken off, and then her socks were pulled off too.
An itch flared on her soles.
Damian was furiously tickling the bottoms of her feet!
"Hee-hee-hee, hahaha... Don't—don't tickle me."
Unable to hold back, Pansy laughed out loud, immediately opened her eyes, and sat up, her face flushed and breathing ragged.
Damian's face appeared in her gaze. That face was indescribably handsome, making her stare in spite of herself.
A high, heroic nose; enticing red lips; sword-like eyebrows slanting into a few black strands by his temples; eyes gleaming like cold stars; features so chiseled he was like a statue; a bold, martial air that made one's heart race.
He had changed into a black tight-fitting outfit, his bearing elegant and dashing, warm and refined as jade.
If not for the mischievous smile at his lips and his fingers still hooked around her little foot, Pandora might have mistaken him for a god descended to earth.
"Senior brother... what do you want to do to me?"
Seeing him clinging to her foot, Pandora spoke with a trembling voice.
She was the commander of the Underworld's army, second only to a god and above countless people.
To slip into the Sanctuary, she sealed her power with a secret art and reshaped her body to a child's, no different from an ordinary little girl.
If someone meant her harm, she would be a lamb in a tiger's mouth, without even the chance to resist.
Pansy couldn't help hugging her chest with both hands, shivering.
She had thought the Saints of the Sanctuary were supposed to be righteous and that no one would dare do anything to a little girl like her.
And right at the start, she ran into a senior brother with screws loose. Even the gods wouldn't know what he might do.
At that moment, the extraordinarily handsome senior brother slowly rose, hands clasped behind his back. Looking down on the pitiable Pansy before him, his gaze cooled, and he pointed toward the graveyard, speaking in a deep voice:
"Since the age of myth, from the very founding of the Sanctuary, this graveyard has stood here."
"Here lie the remains of Saints through the ages—Bronze, Silver, and Gold. Even Popes are buried here."
"Counting from the mythic age, most of the Saints who died were buried here. Naturally, the number of graves is considerable."
"And I, Damian, am the master of this graveyard. From today on, you will follow my orders and help tend these graves. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Senior Brother Damian."
Pansy hurried to her feet, looking shy and reserved, even tugging at her little dress.
Damian couldn't help but silently praise her acting. From start to finish, Pansy presented pure ignorance and a little girl's bashfulness, leaving not the slightest room for suspicion.
If he weren't a transmigrator, he would have been easily deceived.
That said, he was nothing like the Bronze Five with their endless lives, cruising on hacks and slapping faces, toppling Gold Saints and even beating gods to death.
He only wanted his quiet gravekeeper's life undisturbed.
Honestly, killing Pansy now and burying her here wouldn't be a bad option either.
Pansy seemed to sense something and, seeing that hawk-stalking-chick aura behind her, couldn't help a shiver in her heart.
Killing intent!
She had the illusion that she would be killed in a single strike. Her heart tightened again, and she called out weakly, "Senior Brother Damian?"
Damian exhaled and said coldly, "Pansy, do you want to become a Saint?"
"Yes, senior brother..."
"Then follow me in training from now on. Let's build muscle together."
"Huh? Me... build muscle?"
"Yes. In this world only muscle... ahem, only training the body is the truest path of cultivation!"
The body first?
Don't Saints all train the Cosmo?
"Senior brother, I heard that Saints cultivate the Cosmo."
"Cultivate the Cosmo?"
Damian's brawny figure swelled like an inflating balloon. Muscles bulged against his clothes, fabric ripping with sharp snaps, cloth strips flying, energy surging wildly—a ferocious, shirt-bursting swell of muscle!
Those two pectorals were especially conspicuous!
"The Cosmo ain't worth squat!"
"See that? This is the power of muscle. Come on, Pansy—let's sculpt perfect muscles together."
Feeling the surging blood and pressure, watching those two singular, constantly jiggling pecs, Pansy's knees went weak. Her vision went black and—thud—she collapsed to the ground again.
"This guy... really has a screw loose!"