Joanna Edwards walked in from the yard, and a little brown dirt fell on the floor. She put away the garden shovel silently, the hem of her skirt smelled of silk roses. It was already completely dark, and the warning on the bell tower of the Church of the Penance was particularly dazzling.
"Mother." Cahill nodded to Mrs Edwards, who was wiping her hands. He was leaning against the bookshelf in the living room, casually flipping through the books. "...you're injured."
The old woman was wiping her hands with a handkerchief, and the red on the handkerchief was particularly eye-catching.
"It's too dark," she replied softly, "There's something wrong with the cutting magic, don't worry."
Cahill controlled the wheelchair to approach, he carefully cupped the old man's wrinkled hand, and the golden light of healing magic emerged from his fingers. The wound disappeared as if it had been erased, and he sighed in relief, raising his face and showing a smile.
"I'm a healer. You can rely on me a little more, Mother," Cahill said cheerfully, putting his palm on the back of Mrs. Edwards's hand—it was small, wet and cold, like a corpse exposed in the dirt of a cemetery. "Your hands are too cold, have you felt any discomfort recently?"
"I'm fine." Mrs. Edwards picked up the corner of her mouth and took her hand back.
"The flowers on the table have been changed. Do you have guests in the afternoon?"
"Those black stamps, they asked something about the mission," she replied, moving the vase to make the light on the table brighter.
"They didn't give up? Then maybe they succeeded." Cahill smiled cheerfully, "It's good that you can meet Ed. Originally, I wanted to beg the bishop again, so that you can at least be at the festival. See him before - after all, I don't want you to leave any regrets." He paused, "And to be selfish, as a friend, I don't want to see him executed."
Mrs Edwards paused for a few seconds. She froze for a while, then sighed slowly: "...I hope it's really them."
"What team is this? I think... the tenth? You must have something important to say to Ed."
"Yes." She gently stroked the rose petals and nodded with her back to Cahill. "Very important words."
"You're sure to meet him. Do you need me to accompany you?" Cahill poured a cup of tea and added a candy thoughtfully. The teacup floated steadily in front of the old woman.
"No need, child. I don't want you to be hurt again, I only have one question to ask him." The old woman picked up the teacup, took a sip, and smiled peacefully. She put the teacup and saucer aside, brushed Cahill's ginger hair, and bent down to kiss his forehead lightly. Even after taking a sip of hot tea, her lips were almost as cold as her hands. "...there's only one question."
"Mrs. Edwards wants to see you... Do you know why?" Oliver began to use the condensed ice spikes as a weapon, and unexpectedly mastered the rhythm. From time to time he aimed at Adrian, who was fighting with his bare hands. Adrian Cross was called "the shining morning star" for more than just his lost magical talent - the actions of the former knight commander were not sloppy, a little There are no extra actions. In the face of the attacking monster, even though Oliver's magic power is amazing, the number and speed of knocking down the enemy is far less than Adrian who lost his strength.
Oliver studied awkwardly, and the other party's aura made him faintly feel that he had met Witherspoon again.
"I don't know." Adrian neatly kicked a giant poisonous leech that was posted over. "But you are not the first team to come to me. I heard them mention that she posted a mission at the Mercenary Guild."
"Could it be Della... What is Della doing, trying to kill you?" Oliver muttered, erecting three ice thorns in succession before piercing the slippery leech. "To be honest, that's what worries us the most right now. Although we visited her this afternoon, she didn't seem to be in control, but you said that the demon is good at illusion—"
"I'll meet her," Adrian interrupted. "Whether she's being controlled or not."
"What the hell are you and Cahill Edwards..."
"He's my friend." Adrian said in a deep voice, but didn't seem to intend to continue the topic. "Your center of gravity is too high to be knocked down," he added, frowning.
Oliver tried to lower his upper body, narrowly avoiding a pressing leech.
"Thank you for your guidance." He touched his nose a little uncomfortably, and was almost thrown off by another.
"You have a good foundation," Adrian lowered his hands after the leech group fled in a hurry. "I see a good teacher."
Oliver scratched his head, Adrian's attitude was much better than he imagined. If he hadn't known Adrian's identity in advance, Oliver would never have thought that he was a high-ranking member of the Holy See - after all, from the perspective of the clergy who have been in contact with them, they tend to praise the omnipotent idiot in every word, And seriously hates Nemo who is not involved with the devil.
But when this man looked at Nemo, there was only strong vigilance in his eyes, but no hatred. And since they met until now, he hadn't spoken in that aria-like tone once. Thinking of the bloody rumors of the trial knight, Oliver couldn't help shaking his head, and found that it was a little difficult for him to imagine the scene of Adrian raising his sword and stabbing his compatriots.
Oliver stared at the straight back of the former knight commander - there was no enemy, Adrian stood motionless, the monk's suit was soaked with the monster's slime and sewage, and it looked close to pure black. Maybe an illusion, Oliver thought, looking a little sad.
So Oliver didn't ask any more questions.
While Nemo was in the dungeon, he specifically asked Ann about Cahill Edwards. But Oliver had to admit that he didn't like the story.
"It's the tragic hero stuff. It's not a matter of life and death, the battle of Kandal—you know, Garland and Willard for the Dragon's Breath mines near Kenyatta. That frontier has always been difficult to draw. Garland made a random excuse and took the lead in launching the war - accusing the opponent of sheltering the superior demon, this excuse has always been easy to use, and it is also convenient to use the judgment knight."
Oliver, who was Al himself, said he knew nothing about the war.
"The details are not important, in short, they played unexpectedly badly. The Dragon's Breath Stone vein was taken by Garland, and he announced that the superior demons had been eliminated. Willard was busy dealing with Alban at the time and was short-staffed, but they were not The Lord who is willing to suffer—they sent the death row to attack the Knights of Judgment that had finally withdrawn before withdrawing the army. It is estimated that the old men of the Holy See just wanted to send Cross to stand up, but I did not expect Cross to be directly planted there. The saying at the time Or 'cursed by evil demons, locked in mana'. He and Cahill just stood up to the death row, even though the locals were almost dead, and the trial knights didn't die - of course, the consequences As you can see, Cahill has turned into that ghost."
"Then both of them shouldn't be..." Oliver choked, for some reason, he didn't want to use the word "hero" very much.
"Because Cross has never regained his strength, the Rads are reluctant to admit that they can't do anything about the 'curse of the devil'. And to be honest, if he was normal at that time, he could kill the entire death row alone. Not to mention Cross also refused to go to Kenyatta at first, and it was said at the time that he was bewitched by a superior demon."
"You said that the superior demon is just an excuse."
"'We waged a holy war against the infidels who shelter the demons' is a lot better than 'I'm sorry we really want that vein so we're going to snatch it', doesn't it? Do you think the devout citizens are more likely to believe it? Where's the side?"
Look now. Two years have passed, the dust has settled, and the blessing festival of peace and love is imminent. One of the original "heroes" has turned into an alien in the dark, and the other will be sent to the burning altar as a sinner. And they used to be so powerful.
The icicles turned to cold water in Oliver's palm, and he felt bad. After he stepped on a human skeleton, his mood became worse. Although Oliver admitted that he knew very little, he couldn't understand exactly how Adrian Cross was feeling. He didn't even know if the other party really cared, but as soon as the idea of empathy appeared, he felt so uncomfortable that he was dying.
If Adrian is as upright as he appears to be... a torturer with a conscience, it's definitely a curse. Perhaps only when Adrian Close and Mrs Edwards meet will they truly understand the truth buried under the gunpowder.
But Oliver did not expect that this meeting would come so quickly.
They had only been struggling in the sewers all night, and Joanna Edwards had just come to this rancid place in person as soon as the application for advancement of the Black Badge mission was issued. She held the parchment scroll of the mission contract in her hand, and the edge of the skirt turned a cleaning circle, and the stench and sticky mold couldn't get close to those delicate embroidery at all.
Mrs. Edwards stood silently in front of them, as pale as a flower long ago rotted and dead. She raised her head slightly, her white hair still undisturbed. It's like the surrounding is not green dirty water and dirty stone roads, but the lights of the stage. Adrian stood directly opposite her, and the monk's uniform was full of traces left after the sewage dried up. He lowered his head slightly, looking a little restrained, but his mood was very calm.
"Ed." Mrs. Edwards pursed her lips and called softly. "You've lost a lot of weight."
Adrian didn't answer.
The old woman gave a weary smile. With that smile, she seemed to have lost her last point of support, and her whole person looked shaky.
"I want to ask you a question." Her voice was hoarse, "Just one."
"Please look me in the eye and answer me, Adrian Cross. Did my son, Cahill, leave long ago? Don't be so surprised, I know, I already knew, but..."
"Answer me, cut off my last hope."
,Wonderful!
(m.. = )