Once inside the residence, Max walked calmly toward the center of the room and lowered himself onto the couch. The house was quiet and spacious, with soft lighting illuminating the interior. Shelves containing cultivation manuals and materials lined one wall while several training weapons rested neatly on a rack near the far side of the room.
Isabella remained standing beside him.
Her posture was stiff and awkward as she stood there with her hands lightly clenched at her sides. The pride she normally carried as the Saintess in training had clearly been suppressed by the situation she had placed herself in.
Max glanced at her briefly and then let out a quiet sigh.
He had not actually expected her to come.
When he made that bet earlier, he had assumed Isabella would find some way to avoid fulfilling such an extreme condition. For someone with her pride and status, becoming another person's maid for ten years was something that most geniuses would never accept.
