Roland knocked on the door, and after hearing Nightingale's answer, he pushed the door and walked into the room.
There are thick curtains hanging in the room. The windows are only opened in the early morning and evening for ventilation. At other times, they are closed for warmth and shading.
The only source of light came from the two candlesticks at the foot of the bed, which burned quietly, casting two interlaced shadows on the furnishings in the room.
He walked to the bed, looked at the woman who was buried under the soft velvet pillows and quilt, and still closed her eyes, and sighed softly.
"Is the situation on the border line okay?" Nightingale stepped forward and handed him a glass of warm water.
"Everything is going well," Roland took a sip and handed the cup back to her. "Since that day, I haven't encountered a large group of demonic beasts. After the injured militia members returned to the team, everyone's enthusiasm for fighting was still high. It became… kind of high."
"Where are the broken walls?"
"Karl used a log to move the carapace of the mixed-species demon beast to the fracture, and also used a winch and a wooden frame to hang it up, making it part of the city wall," Roland knew that Nightingale asked this to distract himself strength, so as not to worry too much. But as soon as he stepped into this room, all his consciousness could not help but converge on the sleeping woman on the bed.
If it was said that he could still achieve a proud victory in the face of the large-scale invasion of the evil beasts last time, the biggest contributor was undoubtedly Anna.
However, after she fainted in her arms, she never woke up.
"It's been a week," Roland whispered.
Theoretically speaking, if a person is in a coma and does not eat or drink for a week, and there is no direct supply of nutrients (such as injections) from the outside world, the body functions will fall into failure, and the brain will gradually die in shock. But Anna showed no signs of weakness—at least in much better shape than when she first fell. Her cheeks were rosy, her breathing was steady, and she could feel the temperature of ordinary people when she put her hand on her forehead. Everything indicates that Ana is in a healthy state, but... unable to wake up.
"It's the first time I've encountered such a situation," Nightingale who was standing by the side shook her head, "the magic power in her body was exhausted in that battle, but now it has become saturated, even more intense than before. If I'm not wrong, midnight today is her coming of age."
"You mean she's going to come of age in a coma?"
"No, she will die in a coma," Nightingale said bluntly. "The pain she suffers on the day of her adulthood must be overcome with will. Once she gives up resistance, the magic power of backlash will irreversibly destroy the witch's body."
Roland moved a chair and sat down beside the bed, "But I remember you said that when the demon devours the body, no matter how painful it is, the consciousness will always remain awake, and either survive this level or choose to end life."
"Indeed, there were people in the mutual aid association who wanted to use the coma to get through the demon's body. That's not yet an adult day... It's just an annual torture that must be endured," Nightingale hesitated, and continued, "She relied on alchemy medicines. She let herself fall asleep, but that's meaningless... She woke up instantly when the magic backfired, and she lost the ability to resist."
"Isn't this pain increasing gradually?"
"No, when that moment comes, the pain will come like a thunderbolt, but how long it lasts varies from person to person. My sisters aren't strong enough, it's just..." Her voice dropped.
Roland understood what she meant. This kind of judgment with an unknown time limit was a kind of torture in itself. He didn't know how long he had persevered, and he didn't know how long he had to persevere - like a lonely boat drifting on the rough sea, it was easy for people to persevere. Give up the desire to live.
In the silence, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"In the years of exile, I have seen too many deaths. The witches were treated like livestock, hanged, burned, or tortured to death by the nobles as a prop for fun. The witches who survived could only Away from the crowd, they live a life of isolation. The holy mountain that they don't know where is located is just their unreachable wish." Nightingale's voice was softer than before, "But Anna is different, except for the sisters of the mutual aid society. Besides, this is the first time I've seen someone care so much about a witch. She's needed, valued, and treated like a normal person... Your Highness, even if Anna didn't make it to adulthood, she'd already found her own Holy Mountain."
But this was not the ending he hoped for. Roland closed his eyes and recalled the scene when he first met her.
She had bare feet, tattered clothes, and was in a cage, but there was no fear on her face, her eyes were like the surface of a lake that had never been polluted, clear and calm.
She is a flame, but she does not escape like a flame.
The picture rotates one by one, like a revolving lantern.
"I satisfied your curiosity, my lord, can you kill me now?"
"I've never hurt anyone with it."
"I just want to stay by His Highness's side, that's all."
"Evil Devourer can't kill me, I will overcome it."
"Are you dreaming? I'm not going anywhere."
…
Roland suppressed his turbulent thoughts and whispered, "I will accompany her to the last moment."
"Me too, and… thank you."
After dinner, Nana also came, and when she heard that Anna was about to pass her adulthood, she also insisted on staying. Roland had to arrange an extra room on the second floor for Tigu Pine, who was accompanying him, to spend the night.
In this way, Roland and the two witches sat around the bed, quietly waiting for midnight to come.
For Nightingale and Nana, they also have to suffer from the evil spirits this winter. Fortunately, the day of awakening is different for everyone. Otherwise, the three witches will all suffer the test of unknown life and death at the same time. Roland estimates I couldn't force myself to stay in the room any longer.
There is no clock tower in the town, and the passage of time is blurred in the dimly lit room. The cold wind was blowing against the windows, and every now and then, the screeching sound of the air passing through the cracks of the windows could be heard. Just when Roland felt a little tiredness hit his heart, Nightingale suddenly said, "It's starting."
Only she could see that the magic power in Anna's body began to become uneasy, the green flame became more and more intense, the center part turned from incandescent to dark, and the manic magic power gathered towards the center, as if it was being pulled by something. Struggling, rolling, but to no avail.
Roland couldn't see these changes, but he also noticed something was wrong.
The flame at the top of the candle shook, and there was no wind in the room. The light from the flames became darker and darker, as if being swallowed by the surrounding shadows, and then the color of the flame tip changed—the orange-red firelight turned into a faint green flame.
He looked at the woman in the bed, Anna was still sleeping, her face did not change at all, as if all this had nothing to do with her.
At this time, the candle flame was almost completely disappeared—not that the flame was extinguished, but the green flame was consuming the orange-red part bit by bit, until the light completely disappeared, and everyone was plunged into darkness.
But soon, the fire came back on. Only this time, the flame on the candlestick turned pure green. Reflected in a green light, the three of them stared at each other, and it was a little difficult to understand what was going on.
At this moment, Anna's moan drew the eyes of the three back to her.
She opened her eyes slowly.
"Anna..." Roland was stunned, she woke up
The woman blinked and smiled at him, then stretched out her right hand, spread her palm, and handed it to the prince.
A mass of green fire jumped out of his palm and burned quietly.
For some reason, Roland felt that he understood the meaning of the other party. He hesitated for a moment, and slowly inserted his finger into the flame. The expected burning sensation did not come, but it was just as soft and warm as being wrapped in warm water.