Chapter 339: Latest - of "The Innocent Knight of the Stained Light" - Princess’s Struggle for Survival - NovelsTime

Princess’s Struggle for Survival

Chapter 339: Latest - of "The Innocent Knight of the Stained Light"

Author: Princess’s Struggle for Survival
updatedAt: 2025-09-22

CHAPTER 339: LATEST CHAPTER OF "THE INNOCENT KNIGHT OF THE STAINED LIGHT"

After the shocking military remonstrance that shook the nation that night, the Empress Amalia Valeria ended her brief yet formidable reign, and the political aftermath she left behind plunged the entire empire into temporary chaos.

Finally, with the joint suppression by Duke Charles and other royal family members, the month-long civil unrest gradually subsided. As the people’s war-weariness grew, the war-mongering Valeria Empire entered a rare period of recuperation.

However, danger always arises from tranquility. Although the Valeria Empire intended to cease hostilities, the seeds of hatred between the two nations had long been deeply buried. Even if one side stops, it will be futile. During the empire’s truce, the military actions of the Kingdom of Velvys were quietly brewing, and the dark clouds of war were about to loom over the continent once again.

In a remote border town of the Kingdom of Velvys, Monica Angelis, the Saintess of Light, arrived at the central square. The dazzling sunlight shone on her pure white Saintess robe, outlining her curvaceous figure. The morning breeze gently brushed past her, and her long, smooth, white silk-clad legs stepped forward alternately. The silver patterns at the base of her stockings swayed slightly, reflecting eye-catching glimmers.

"Great, merciful, and supreme God of Light, You are the first ray of light at the dawn of chaos, the sword that severs deathly silence and bitter cold, the meaning behind all existence in this world..."

"...Your loyal devotee prays here, beseeching You to grant us the great power to heal illnesses."

After the lengthy magical incantation, Monica’s orange-gold eyes shimmered with scattered light. Warm and gentle light rippled outward from her, illuminating every disciple who had come to listen to the holy words in the square.

In human history, war and plague have always been twin brothers. Although the war between people has temporarily come to an end, the plague that accompanies decay still spreads across this land. As the Saintess of Light, one of Monica’s duties is to save as many plague-stricken people as possible.

Time passed quietly. When the ripple-like halo of light stopped spreading, Monica chanted another spell. Her thin veil fluttered slightly, and she ended the healing session with a group healing spell.

Half an hour later, in the town’s church, Monica, having finished her work, dismissed all her attendants and stood alone in front of the holy statue, praying.

After an unknown amount of time, a petite figure clad in a black robe appeared behind Monica.

Listening to the Saintess’s soft and devout tone, the figure did not choose to remove the robe but stood quietly. A few strands of pale pink hair fell on her neck, gently stirred by the wind that came from somewhere in the church.

The hand hidden in the sleeve of the robe was loosely clenched, the index finger as slender as jade. On the small, pink nail, a faintly glowing white sword mark flickered.

"Long time no see, Miss Monica..."

The blue eyes reflected Monica in her white dress. Lyra’s expression was calm, her snow-white and delicate face showing no trace of past shyness.

Hearing the voice, Monica slowly turned around, her hands still crossed in front of her chest, her beautiful eyes still carrying the scattered light from the overflowing magic.

"The one chosen by God, Miss Lyra Beckett, it’s an honor to meet you again."

"I’ve dismissed all the staff in the church, so it’s just the two of us here..."

As Lyra listened, she used her mental senses to scan the surroundings. Now as a peak Arcanist mage, in this remote border town without any restraining magic circles, almost no one could forcibly keep her here.

Confirming that there was no one around, Lyra removed her robe, and the low-level magnus-level spell [Psychological Concealment] was simultaneously dispelled.

The Shield of the Valeria Empire and the Saintess of the Kingdom of Velvys’s state religion met in private to resolve the new and old grievances between the two nations.

Due to the unavoidable sensitivity of their identities, their meeting inevitably involved some probing. After exchanging some superficial information, Lyra was the first to bring up a topic.

"Miss Monica, you said you sensed a familiar power from this Sword of Light?"

As the words fell, a translucent light sword materialized in Lyra’s palm. Monica narrowed her eyes at the sight but still restrained herself from making any move.

"Indeed, I do feel a very familiar sensation from it."

As the current Saintess of the Holy Light, one of the two people closest to the "Sacred Artifact," Monica could feel the soul-striking power emanating from the radiant sword before her.

The sharp blade intertwined with the two sides of light, the scorching heat that purges sin and the warmth that embraces all things, felt identical to the Sacred Artifact.

It was as if the same entity had been split into two by a sharp blade.

Looking at the sword of light in Lyra’s hand, Monica couldn’t help but recall the silver-armored, invincible Holy Knight on the battlefield and slowly spoke.

"If it were three years ago, I would have sincerely hoped that Miss Lyra could join the Holy Light Order..."

"You are the most talented light magic user I’ve ever met, and the one most favored by the Holy Light."

Even she, the current Saintess, was far inferior to Lyra in terms of affinity with light elements.

Hearing this, Lyra’s expression remains unchanged, her eyes fixed on Monica.

"I am from Valeria; I will not join the state religion of Velys."

"The Holy Light Order welcomes everyone."

"What I mean is, it’s not suitable."

Hearing Lyra’s calm yet firm tone, Monica’s pink lips parted slightly.

"Please forget my earlier words. The Holy Light Order respects everyone’s choices equally."

The crisp female voice echoed in the silent church. Lyra held the holy sword, her gaze falling on the marble-carved statue of the God of Light behind Monica.

"If you truly respect us, why did you launch a large-scale eastern campaign to erase so-called heretics back then?"

It was Velvys that first drew the sword, starting the cycle of hatred and indirectly giving Amalia the opportunity to incite national sentiment and wage war.

Looking at the resolute Holy Knight before her, Monica narrowed her eyes and spoke in a low voice.

"That’s why I said, if it were three years ago, I would have invited Lyra to join me in worshiping the great Creator."

"Not only because the two nations had not yet gone to war, but also because the Holy Light Order was more inclusive back then."

As she spoke, Monica turned her head, her gaze fell on the pure and holy statue.

"Now everything has changed, and that’s exactly the main point of why I invited you here to discuss."

"Miss Lyra, you are the one watched by God, the only one who can save both the Valeria Empire and the Kingdom of Velvys."

.........

Her vision slightly reddened, a faint white light saw through the gap. Astrid blinked a few times, slowly opening her sleepy eyes.

Her thoughts still lingered on the conversation between Monica and Lyra in the dream. Her blurry vision caught sight of the dark hair scattered in front of her.

Is that... Amalia?

Beneath her was a soft and warm touch, carrying a faint, silky fragrance. The mild scent of soap was similar to usual but with a slight difference. However, Astrid clearly didn’t have the energy to discern it now.

Feeling the faint movement of the person in her arms, mistaking it for Amalia asking for a morning kiss, Astrid didn’t think too much. Her lips moved upward, gently brushing the woman’s dark black hair, leaving a kiss on her smooth, fair forehead.

"Huh?"

The next second, a lazy female voice reached Astrid’s ears.

That voice is...

Realizing something was missed, Astrid gathered her thoughts again, her gaze refocusing. The previously unclear scene gradually became clear before her eyes.

Under the warm morning light, the woman’s skin was fair, her features delicate and well-proportioned. Looking further down, two thin straps adorned her rounded shoulders. The close-fitting white silk dress couldn’t completely cover her alluring curves. Two mountains pressed together like snow cakes.

Whether it was the enchanting, alluring face or the soft touch that was completely different from Amalia’s slender figure, everything was telling Astrid one fact.

She seemed to have mistaken the recipient of the morning kiss.

"Little Astr..."

Feeling the lingering cool and tender touch of lips on her forehead, Charlotte’s ears warmed slightly, and she spoke in a low voice.

"You... do this when you wake up in the morning?"

Seeing how natural and smooth her actions were, it probably wasn’t the first time.

Hearing her aunt’s voice, which had become slightly more alluring upon waking, Astrid casually brushed her silver hair aside and replied softly.

"Amalia asks for a morning kiss, so I’ve gotten used to it."

This time, she had forgotten that she was staying at the manor and that the person beside her wasn’t the cold and aloof loli, but her mature and charming, gentle aunt.

Receiving the response, Charlotte, who had been slightly flustered by the sudden kiss, calmed her emotions. She gently exhaled through her nose, tilting her head to avoid pressing on Astrid’s hair.

"Little Astr really dotes on her."

Sleeping together every day and having their own morning kiss, such naturally intimate gestures were something even Charlotte herself had never experienced.

For this younger sister, with whom she had only reconciled a little over two years ago, Astrid’s affection was almost bone-deep. Charlotte couldn’t help but felt a little envious.

Astrid nodded slightly, not denying it, and asked, "Lady Charlotte, what time is it?"

"Eight twenty. It’s still early; you can sleep a little more."

Having promised Charlotte yesterday to stay another day at the earl’s manor, there was naturally nothing pressing to attend to. Hearing this, Astrid nodded slightly, raising her hand to her forehead, her crimson eyes showing a hint of confusion.

This was the second time she had such a logically coherent and highly realistic dream.

The military remonstrance... probably referred to the military action where Lyra infiltrated the imperial palace to demand the emperor cease the war...

The final outcome also matched the previous dream. The blonde, white-dressed tyrant met her demise due to excessive tyranny, and the Valeria Empire, with the combined efforts of the destined heroine and various factions, returned from the brink of collapse to stability.

Noticing that Astrid, despite having slept for a long time, still looked somewhat tired, Charlotte pursed her lips and spoke after a moment.

"Little Astr... didn’t sleep well last night?"

"You seem a bit listless..."

Hearing Charlotte’s deeply concerning words, Astrid shook her head.

"No, I’m just a bit groggy from waking up."

The information overload requires time to digest.

Charlotte carefully scrutinized Astrid for a few moments, confirming that she was fine before releasing the hand on her waist and getting out of bed.

"Then I’ll go wash up and have the servants bring breakfast. You can lie down a bit longer, Little Astr."

With that, Charlotte, wearing slippers, walked toward the bathroom on her long, fair legs.

Astrid watched the woman’s retreating figure, her gaze gradually deepening.

Last night’s dream almost confirmed her previous conjecture. Whether her younger sister had printed out this work and burned it to ashes before her grave or used some other means, she was indeed receiving the subsequent Chapters of "The Innocent Knight of the Stained Light"

However, this method of receiving through dreams after falling asleep seemed to be fragmented. The most effective evidence was that during the period of internal turmoil after Amalia’s reign, something must have happened that allowed Lyra to connect with Monica, the Saintess of Light from the distant Kingdom of Velvys.

According to Monica, the Holy Light Order three years ago was very different from the one now. Tracing back the timeline, during that period, Lyra should have still been studying at the Elizabeth Academy of Magic, probably in her third year.

Recalling the important plot points around that time in the original novel, Astrid pondered for a long time but only found one potentially useful piece of information.

Lyra and Charlotte ventured deep into the suburbs of the capital to uncover the truth behind the barren land case.

This arc had already been cleared ahead of time in the current timeline, and the chain reaction it caused was probably the appearance of the dark-haired girl with a delinquent aura in the Monster Mountains; she shouldn’t have been there.

Besides the barren land case, the only other variable was Lyra’s early mastery of the Sword of Light.

Connecting all the clues, Astrid felt she had vaguely grasped part of the main storyline. However, since more information hadn’t been revealed yet, she couldn’t easily conclude that the dark-haired girl was the trigger for the war between the two nations.

The power is similar to the Sacred Artifact, the one watched by God.

Monica’s evaluation of the Sword of Light and Lyra also made Astrid somewhat concerned. Unfortunately, in the dream, her behavior was somewhat cryptic, and the information she could obtain was mostly vague and ambiguous.

Perhaps she will only have the chance to delve deeper when she comes to the empire for a diplomatic visit next semester, and all of this will have to be under the premise of Hibbort’s permission.

Thinking this far, Astrid retracted her gaze, hearing the sound of fabric rustling in the air. She looked up to see Charlotte sitting in front of the dressing table, bending her knees to put on stockings.

At the same time, she also saw in the mirror those tea-colored eyes that captured her expression entirely.

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