Tsk~~
A proud phoenix cry rang out—majestic, sacred, and echoing through heaven and earth.
Almost instantly, the boiling surface of Crystal Lake fell silent.
Natasha Romanoff and the others exchanged bewildered looks. Though they couldn't see Jason, the whole situation felt oddly comical—like a brat throwing a tantrum, only to suddenly face a towering, muscle-bound man with a machete… and instantly fold in terror.
The resemblance was uncanny.
Such was the difference between mortals and Saints.
This was the majesty of the Golden Sequence Saints—their presence alone was an order of magnitude beyond ordinary beings.
But being intimidated didn't mean the matter was over.
With a soft snap of her fingers, Yelena released a faint yet irresistible wave of sacred power. The murderer Jason—who had been trembling beneath the lake—was abruptly dragged from the depths and suspended before them.
His huge, burly frame still quivered. His head hung low, his posture awkwardly submissive—almost pitifully cute, in a twisted way.
Jason blinked in confusion. The next instant, he locked eyes with Yelena—who was studying him like a biologist examining an insect—and nearly wet himself in fear.
He dropped his machete, letting it stick upright in the soil, then squatted with his hands clasped over his head, looking utterly aggrieved.
Everyone burst out laughing.
"Tsk," Tony smacked his lips, at a rare loss for words. "A moment ago, this guy was giving the Avengers a headache… and now he's afraid to even breathe when Yelena shows up."
The difference was… absurd.
Yelena, however, was calm.
To her—a Gold Saint, wielder of cosmic power—Jason, the so-called unkillable monster with endless rebirth, was no more than a minor bug in the system of creation. The difference in life level was laughable.
Infinite resurrection? Exponential growth after each death?
In her eyes, such "abilities" were child's play.
She had ten thousand ways to annihilate this creature. For one who could control life and death on a subatomic level, the concept of rebirth was no more than an amusing trick.
"Oh?" she said, crouching slightly, tilting her head. "You've spent a lot of time in Hell, haven't you? The faith of your mother, her curse, all that resentment—and the infernal energy fused into you. Tsk, that's quite the messy combination."
Her red eyes shimmered with curiosity. "Such a naughty little one… so many experiences packed into that thick skull."
Then, with a smile that was both gentle and chilling, Yelena added,"Alright. Off you go—to Helheim. I'm sure Sister Hela will find you… interesting."
She lightly tapped Jason's shoulder with her foot.
A faint burst of crimson-gold cosmic light erupted from her, twisting space itself. Jason's entire body contorted as if reality was rejecting him—and then, with a pop, he vanished.
Sent directly to the Underworld.
Yelena brushed imaginary dust off her hands. "He's not particularly strong, but his constitution's interesting. Hela might like that. With a little modification, he could become a good fighter—or at least a decent watchdog."
She shrugged playfully. "Consider it a gift. Free of charge."
With the nuisance gone, Yelena tilted her head, scanning the desolate camp. "This place is cursed. Too many dead souls. If anyone drowns here again, it'll start all over."
She sighed softly. "Hmm."
Then—BOOM!
Without any visible gesture, scarlet flames suddenly ignited across the ground and the lake's surface. The entire Crystal Lake Camp was engulfed in red fire—but nothing was burned or destroyed.
The radiant light spread like a sea of holy fire, transforming darkness into dawn.
Caught off guard, the Avengers froze. Faint whispers of gratitude echoed faintly in their ears—as though the trapped souls were being released.
The sacred blaze lasted only a second before vanishing completely. If it hadn't been so vivid, they might've thought it an illusion.
Yelena clapped her hands, satisfied. "There. All cleaned up. No more trouble here for the next thousand years or so. The environment should even start flourishing again."
Her Phoenix Cosmo—the embodiment of life and rebirth—had purified the land. The flames didn't destroy; they transformed. Sacred vitality now flowed through the soil and water, blessing Crystal Lake and the nearby forest.
No demon or monster would ever dare set foot here again.
Even invaders from higher planes would think twice.
The Avengers exhaled in relief. Another crisis resolved.
Yelena was about to take her leave—but Natasha grabbed her by the wrist. "Not so fast. It's been forever since I've seen you."
Yelena thought for a moment. She was on leave for two days… so she smiled. "Alright, fine. You win."
The others were just deciding where to celebrate when Yelena noticed Hulk watching eagerly, like an oversized green puppy. Laughing, she waved her hand.
"Forget deciding—let's go to Sky City. My place."
As a Gold Saint, Yelena had no shortage of wealth. Her pay, privileges, and access were second only to the highest cosmic officials. Luxurious villas, private islands, star-yachts—none of it was beyond her reach.
The Saints of Sanctuary were Leon's treasured warriors. How could their patron god treat them poorly?
When Sky City was established, Yelena—being lively and free-spirited—chose a seaside villa. She could've requested an entire estate, but she didn't need one.
Only a few people—Natasha, Melina, maybe one or two others—ever visited.
A medium-sized villa by the sea suited her perfectly.
The Sanctuary Administration even had a specialized department managing the Saints' logistics—recruiting and training maids and stewards of impeccable etiquette and composure.
Yelena's villa stood gracefully by the coastline: a two-story marvel of modern architecture, designed to embody the ocean's vastness and serenity.
White exteriors flowed in elegant curves like cresting waves; sunlight shimmered across its surface like seafoam.
The wide glass windows were like clear eyes gazing endlessly at the horizon. Inside, the living room opened seamlessly to a spacious balcony, where sea breezes whispered and sunlight danced.
The furnishings were minimalist yet warm—smooth lines, gentle tones, all balanced perfectly between luxury and comfort.
The garden outside was a painter's dream: lush green lawns, flowering shrubs, and a shimmering blue pool.
Reclining chairs and parasols lined the poolside—perfect for basking in sunlight or dipping into cool water.
The air was fresh, fragrant with salt and sea breeze. It was like living inside a natural paradise.
Soon, everyone had changed out of their combat gear into casual wear. The villa's anti-gravity boards hovered nearby—sleek floating platforms that moved at the speed of thought.
Every aspect of the home embodied advanced Sanctuary technology, designed for effortless living.
"Damn," Barton muttered, impressed. "This is next-level."
For an Avenger, life wasn't exactly poor—but this was on another scale entirely.
Even wealthy nations couldn't replicate Sky City's environment—its self-replenishing water infused with trace super-gene serum, its child welfare systems, its living infrastructure blending nature and science.
To buy a home here required more than money—it required approval from the Sanctuary Council.
After some discussion, everyone gathered around the second-level infinity pool, sipping wine, chatting, and soaking in the sunset glow. Chefs inside began preparing an extravagant meal with cosmic-grade ingredients.
As they waited, conversation flowed easily. Hulk—still in Hulk form—relaxed contentedly. He and Bruce Banner had long agreed on shared body-time scheduling; when Hulk was awake, Banner rested, and vice versa. It worked well enough.
Naturally, the center of attention was Yelena herself. Everyone was curious about her life as a Saint Seiya.
Yelena, ever the showwoman, enjoyed sharing—though she carefully avoided classified details.
She told stories about battling demons, encountering Kamar-Taj mages, and witnessing cosmic phenomena.
To the Sanctuary, such things were trivial; their supremacy was beyond challenge. Even if others heard some secrets, it changed nothing.
When one's strength transcended mortal limits, secrecy lost its importance.
Everyone listened intently. The Saint's tales expanded their understanding of the world—and the universe beyond. The confirmed existence of the multiverse had already shattered humanity's scientific ceiling.
Soon, conversation turned toward Sanctuary technology.
The Saints had long surpassed Earth's technological frontier. While nations raced to innovate, the Sanctuary had already established interstellar trade, acquiring alien sciences and constructing starships and energy weapons.
Tony Stark, eyes gleaming, was captivated. He couldn't help scheming ways to collaborate—or at least borrow inspiration—for the Avengers' development.
Natasha, however, stayed silent. She knew her relationship with Yelena already gave her more than enough advantage. To push for more would be greed—and she wasn't that kind of person.
Yelena saw right through Tony's thoughts, though.
She smiled faintly. "Tony… your toy's a bit too simple."
Tony blinked. "Excuse me?"
Yelena sipped her drink. "Your armor gives you power beyond normal humans, sure—but against extraordinary beings, it's still fragile. If you're going to keep developing in that direction, consider nanotechnology."
Her tone was calm but absolute. "Your MK armor is impressive by human standards—but in the cosmic scale? It's mediocre. Still, it has potential."
She listed its weaknesses fluently—mobility lag, energy efficiency, adaptation delay, and rigidity compared to living constructs. Against supernatural entities, it was like wearing tin foil.
"If you switch to nanotech integration," she continued, "you'll gain flexibility, transformation capability, and far better resilience. Your designs will finally have room to evolve."
Tony looked at her, then turned toward Natasha with a wry smile.
"Actually," he admitted, "Nat already told me that. I'm… working on it. Planning to rebuild the next-generation MK armor around a nanotech core."
(End of Chapter)
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