The Most Arbitrary Wizard

This was the genuine painting, and gazing at it was difficult.

Furthermore, the strain it placed on one's Mental Power was immense.

They were already dizzy from drinking. The extra exertion of viewing the painting meant that within minutes, people started passing out.

Diana, for her part, wasn't surprised—this was all within her expectations. Catherine, however, was furious. She ground her teeth and cursed under her breath, "A bunch of worthless idiots. What an embarrassment!"

In less than ten minutes, almost everyone on the second floor had collapsed, leaving only the sisters Eleanor and Elise still awake.

This was because they hadn't looked at the painting, continuing to drink by themselves instead.

Diana asked, "Why aren't you looking?"

"Because we know our own limits, of course."

Elise said with a smile, her flushed cheeks looking even more adorable than usual. She also noticed that Diana's lipstick wasn't perfectly applied. Blinking, she asked, "Her Highness the Saintess, did you really kiss Sean?"

Diana was nonplussed.

'Is that a question you should be asking me?'

Eleanor quickly grabbed her sister, frantically giving her a look. 'Shut up!'

Although she had also had quite a bit to drink, she was still rational enough. This was Her Highness the Saintess; you couldn't just ask her anything.

It was hard to tell if Elise was truly drunk or just emboldened by the alcohol, but she reached out and grabbed Diana's arm. She began to shake it playfully, asking in a wheedling tone, "Oh, come on, Her Highness the Saintess, my dear sister, just tell me. That way I can finally give up, hehe."

Diana's eyes narrowed. "Give up?"

'It's over...' Eleanor's heart sank.

'What does this girl think she's doing?'

'Trying to steal a man from Her Highness the Saintess??'

"Elise, watch what you say and do!" Catherine warned sharply.

She and Elise were on good terms, and she didn't want to see the girl come to a tragic end.

This was no exaggeration.

Her Highness the Saintess might always seem calm, but she was utterly ruthless when she killed.

Someone soft-hearted could never become the Saintess of the Church Court.

If she truly angered Her Highness the Saintess, Elise would face dire consequences. Even if she wasn't killed, she would suffer terribly.

But unexpectedly, Diana suddenly retracted her killing intent. Her gaze grew placid once more. She gestured for Catherine to stand down, indicating that she didn't mind Elise clinging to her arm. Then, she asked casually, "You like Sean?"

"I wish I could, but I'm not worthy." Elise was still smiling, but it was a bittersweet expression that made Eleanor's heart ache. "It's like that painting. I know I'll never be able to understand it, so I don't even try to look."

"I don't have a powerful background, I'm not a Grand Mage, and I'm not even smart. I can't even learn the simplest Truth Technique. What hope do I have of competing with Her Highness the Saintess?"

Laughing and crying at the same time, Elise was a particularly pitiful sight.

But Diana felt no pity for her.

On the contrary, she thought Elise was absolutely right.

"You truly are not worthy of him."

Those two words—"not worthy"—seemed to strike a nerve. The girl suddenly yelled at Diana, "Who says I'm not! I can work hard!"

People can be so strange sometimes.

You can mock yourself, but you can't stand it when others do.

Catherine was on the verge of dragging Elise away by force. If this scene continued, God only knew if Her Highness the Saintess would actually kill someone.

Diana, however, wasn't angry.

She could tell Elise was truly drunk, and that she was speaking her true feelings.

The young woman seemed unable to accept it.

"Do you know why you aren't worthy?" Diana asked.

Elise wrenched her hand away and stared right at her. "It's only because you've set your sights on him, isn't it, Her Highness the Saintess?"

"Wrong." Diana shook her head. "Whether or not you are worthy of him has nothing to do with me."

"With or without me, you are not worthy of him."

"I am merely stating a fact. If you refuse to accept it, you can look up at that painting."

At these words, Elise instinctively looked toward the stage.

At the same time, a faint cyan glow quietly emerged in Diana's eyes.

Elise felt as if her very soul were being extracted from the chaotic ballroom.

She was at the ball, but the ball had nothing to do with her.

Her gaze traveled past the silent, collapsed forms of the Wizards and the towering stack of Champagne glasses. It felt as if it were crossing mountains and rivers, traversing time and space, before finally landing on the painting.

She saw a stroke of thick ink bloom across the white paper, shifting from black to red, then from red to blue.

She saw night break and dawn blossom. She saw great mountains rise from the earth and mighty rivers flow into the sea. She saw the fiery red sun and the deep blue sky; she saw clouds gather and disperse, turning to rain that drifted onto a windowsill. She saw two people inside the window: the beautiful First Saintess, brush in hand, painting a portrait, and the man being painted, a smile on his profile.

A thirst for knowledge from some unknown wellspring compelled Elise to look closer, but the man in the painting suddenly turned his head.

In that instant, she saw the man's face clearly.

"Sean?!"

And the name of the painting was *Olivia and His Faraway*.

It was a portrait the First Saintess had painted for her own husband, Carl Black.

Elise's eyes flew wide open.

In an instant, the alcoholic haze that had filled her mind and made her so uncharacteristically bold tonight vanished without a trace.

"Sean... he... he is Mr. Blake?!"

...

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