"…Did you tell her anything?" Nemo stepped back and whispered to Oliver. This development was completely different from what he had imagined. Judging from Mrs. Edwards' previous reaction, he thought she would question her, or at least vent her dissatisfaction first. He wouldn't admit the way the old woman looked at her son before—the deep kindness he had also received from old Patrick.
"No straight talk," Oliver whispered, "slammed Cahill as a demon and nearly kicked her out. But we all agreed she wasn't under control—her reaction was too quick and too natural. Illusion controlled. Humans don't react that fast."
Nemo turned to look at Mrs Edwards. She stood proudly on top of the blue and black stone bricks, and the delicate fabric of her clothes glowed delicately in the dim sewers. She was expressionless, her chest rising and falling slightly with her breathing. Nemo had a strange feeling—life was leaving that satin-wrapped, overly aging body at an abnormal speed.
Adrian was silent for a few seconds, or a few minutes. His soldierly ease disappeared for a moment.
"Yes," he said.
The old woman didn't cry, her expression even seemed a little indifferent, but the tears flowed silently down the deep wrinkles. Mrs. Edwards' small body trembled slightly, and finally let out a suppressed choking sound. That simple affirmation is like a sentence.
"My stupid stupid son, I'm causing you trouble." She arched her back, bent down, and bowed deeply. "I'm so sorry, child."
"It's my own choice," Adrian whispered. "You don't need to apologize... I didn't have time to save him."
"No." The old woman tried to suppress her sobbing, speaking slowly. "Cahill did something wrong—then the mistake must be his, not yours. I can even guess the kid's wishes."
She unfolded the parchment scroll of the Black Seal quest, reached out, and signed her name. The rolls of paper burned and turned to ashes in the air.
"Your mission is complete." She sniffed and said in Oliver's direction. "I have entrusted the rest of the remuneration to the guild. I know this is not an easy job, thank you for helping me realize this selfish wish. Trust me, the Holy See will divert attention because of other things, and you will have time to leave. of."
But Nemo did not feel the slightest joy in the completion of the task. The neglected rose bushes and thick dust of the Edwards family dangled in front of his eyes. He suddenly realized something and said it immediately.
"You..." He took a cautious step forward, "don't do anything stupid."
"Of course I don't." She gave a trembling smile. "I just need a sure answer—I know it, but I just can't give up that little hope. Now I feel good, boy, thank you. concern.” She coughed and choked down a few times, “…Hope is a tormenting thing.”
But she was indeed dying step by step, and Nemo didn't know why, but he just knew it.
"There's one last thing left." Mrs Edwards cast her eyes back on Adrian. "I have a… a request that may be a little too much. I know you, Ed, as I know my own children. I know your plan."
"I beg you, run away - I want you to live."
Adrian's back was stiff for a moment.
"Yes, I know. I should have respected your resolve, but if you..." She paused. "Cahill is really dead."
"You shouldn't punish yourself for his mistakes. If you have to care about what happened in the first place, then I forgive you. Although I hope you can believe it, I can only thank you. Ed, thank you for bringing him back, thank you Thank you for your persistence."
Two years ago wasn't really that long ago. Adrian remembers it very well, he remembers every detail—it was probably the angriest time of his life.
"There is no sign of a superior demon near Kenyatta. I personally checked it."
"I know, Ed." His teacher, Mercer, sighed. "Of course I know. But you must go."
"We cannot harm innocent civilians. There are quite a few villages around Kenyatta, if—"
"It's for the glory of Denny, boy."
"No, this is for His Majesty's glory and that mine, and His Majesty has his own army."
"This is an order."
"I do not accept."
"…I hope you know, Ed. A lot of people think you're not religious enough, my boy, and I'm sure you know it yourself - you're in this position because of your strength, not because of your devotion to Dinni. We need those stones, listen, to better spread God's blessing, we need those damn dragon breath stones! If you go on like this, I can't protect you."
"My love for Zeni has never wavered, and I will never lose it to anyone. But I don't think those stones have anything to do with Zeni's glory - God is merciful, God is all-powerful. He doesn't need to bleed The dead thing in exchange. This war is an outright lie, and I don't want to be a part of it."
"...Do you know what the consequences of your speech just now being heard by a third person?"
Silence filled the air.
"Ed, Willard and Alban are at war, and it doesn't want to spend too much energy on the battlefield here. It's calling its army of death row prisoners. The lode won't die, but people will—people on both sides. You can stop this, you can keep casualties to a minimum. Don’t be too stubborn, God will forgive all this. You know the way the army on death row works, it’s the enemy who ignores civilian casualties first.”
"Who started this war first?"
"… the war has happened, at least you can keep more people alive."
He ended up being part of the lie, and didn't succeed in keeping more people alive.
It was a fine day, and he swung his sword, but no brilliance came on. The army of death row prisoners vented their anger to the fullest. They wore collars and attacked all living things in sight like beasts. First the most vulnerable refugees, then the weary soldiers, and finally the knights of judgment in shining armor.
God said, don't take it lightly.
His long sword slid across the neck of the inmate who rushed over, and blood spurted out instantly. Innocent people littered the ground—both old and young, with panic and bewilderment on their faces, as dry bread and cheese for escape slipped from broken packages, covered in blood, and eventually stepped into the dirt. He was gullible. He trusted his own strength, and the result of this mistake left him almost breathless.
God said, don't follow blindly.
Cahill Edwards, dressed in white robes, rushed into the bloody battlefield. He used his magic like crazy, trying to rescue civilians or soldiers who were rolling in the mud and dying.
"Go back!" Adrian yelled at him. And just as he was distracted, another death row inmate pulled him off his horse, her eyes flushed with rage and madness. The cutting magic nearly slit his throat, and Adrian clenched his teeth and kicked her away, the sword pierced through her heart, and blood splattered across his face.
"Do you want me to wait?" Cahill yelled back. "Damn, no one can make it to camp!"
"You don't—" Adrian's horse was hit by bombardment magic, and his internal organs flowed all over the place. The owner of the horse was pulling a dagger from a gap in the armor, struggling to resist the stun of blood loss. "This isn't where you're supposed to be—"
Unable to withstand the desperate offensive of the death row army, their leader was slow to cast magic, and the tired and confused judge knights began to fall one after another. Cahill stepped on the golden light of healing, getting closer and closer to the center of the battlefield. Adrian gritted his teeth to avoid countless passing circles, and forcibly tore a bloody hole in the formation of the death row army.
God said, you must not lie.
"Hold on!" He ordered in vain, making one corpse after another with his own hands. "It's just a temporary situation, but we can win!"
But this is no longer a simple war. Tomorrow, the day after, Garland's army will continue to flow, while the death row army is only a single-use weapon full of malice. Adrian knew very well that this attack was only for venting, revenge, or saving some of the face of the enemy's superiors.
what are they doing
As Garland's first healer, Cahill miraculously endured the chaotic battlefield for a long time. The trial knights fought with his support, and the death row army finally collapsed, but unfortunately the exhausted healer was not lucky to the end.
Healing a dangerous wound requires knowledge, strength, and finesse, but killing a person requires only enough malice.
Adrian barely supported his body with his long sword and knelt down on one knee. The enemy was dying, and Cahill staggered towards him, trying to heal—
Then he was hit head-on by the pitch-black curse.
The talisman around Cahill's neck hissed, showing the twist characteristic of melting metal. He fell softly to the ground, and Adrian immediately stood up desperately, threw his long sword, pierced through the last enemy, and then half-walked and half-crawled to the side of his friend.
"Cahill!" He propped up the other's head with his wounded hands—Cahill was still breathing, subconsciously relieved.
"Abyss sigh." Cahill coughed, joking weakly. "I'm still alive... Your amulet is really good, you don't want to get it back from me."
"But my hands don't work. What to do, Ed? I can't heal you."
"It's over... they're still alive, I don't need treatment," Adrian said quickly. "Can I move you?"
Cahill nodded vigorously, and Adrian took a breath and carried him on his back—the Knights of Judgment were still alive, barely forming a team, and their horses had long since turned to flesh under the frenzied attack of the enemy.
"The curse broke my spine," Cahill whispered on his back. "It should have shattered all my bones."
"Don't talk, Cahill."
"I can cure this." Cahill ignored Adrian's request and continued to mumble. "It's hard, but I can—but I can't cure anyone now, Ed."
A warm liquid dripped down his neck. Adrian didn't answer.
"…put me down."
"Do not."
"I should die here."
"Joanna is still waiting for you."
"I'm going to be a drag on her life, don't you understand? Ed, please. While my courage is still—"
"You need rest."
"Why did we become like this? Right or wrong, I hope there is at least an answer... But it doesn't make sense. I don't want this, I don't want to go back, that's not what I want."
"...You need to rest. Get some sleep, and at least see Joanna once. If you still want to die, I won't stop you."
"You really... haven't changed at all. Can't you tell a nice lie?"
"I will respect your will." Adrian shook his head, which became dizzy again. "But I… definitely want you to live."
"Cahill, everything will be fine," he continued, thinking for a moment, then repeating it in a less firm voice. "everything will get better."
This sentence does not seem to be a lie at first, and their return is called a triumph. The king of Garland happily included the dragon's breathstone vein called Kandal into his territory. Compared to Adrian, who suddenly had a problem in the war and still did not regain his strength, Cahill was pushed to the top for a time. Flowers, applause, cheers and glory overwhelm him.
He became a hero, the personification of hope and virtue. Every child in Garland knows his name.
But Cahill Edwards never laughed again from his heart—he was right in his judgment, and no one but himself could cure the aftermath of the abyss sigh. He was lying on the bed in his room, day after day, when meeting the nobles, he had to be carefully pushed in a wheelchair.
"Ed, I really envy you." Cahill commented calmly after Adrian lost his knight commander position.
Adrian stopped his hands to clean up the quilt.
"...you should have left me there." Cahill stared at the ceiling, a sigh escaped his lips.
He should have noticed by then. Why didn't he notice, Adrian thought
Now what he had said had come back to him as a request.
"Okay." He replied solemnly, "I promise you."
Mrs Edwards' wrinkled face pulled out a quivering smile.
"But what are you going to do?"
"I can probably guess the child's wish," she said calmly. "It's still by my side and hasn't touched me. I can guess. Cahill's wish may not have been fully fulfilled, as long as the wish has not been fulfilled. , the devil can't really come... is that so?"
"Yes, but..."
"If I'm not mistaken, that wish should be my sin, and it needs to be ended by my own hands." Zeni's followers will not do such cowardly things as suicide, we will die in faith, in battle, in our inability to Foresighted Fate'...I will not betray my faith."
"I understand."
The old woman picked up the hem of her skirt and walked up to Adrian. She didn't care about the grime left by the battle, she stood on tiptoe, and Adrian bowed his head in cooperation - she kissed the top of his hair.
"I'm really glad to see you again." She stopped crying, her eyes still slightly red. "Goodbye, child."
She saluted them, ignited the transport paper, and her figure disappeared into the sultry, smelly air like a sigh.
At the same time, Della Lenien dropped the fresh rose in his hand and sighed at the communication crystal.
"Vance."
"… "
"Looks like I'll have to lose an eye," he said regretfully. "I have a hunch that this body may not last long—oh, what a pity, Edwards' knowledge can't be learned from books."
"It's rare that you would admit defeat so simply."
"Of course I have to struggle again! But my hunch has never been wrong. Witherspoon's body fell into a deep sleep in the abyss, and we all know what that means. This identity may bring me danger."
"I see."
"Why do they keep doing this kind of useless thing, why don't you just enjoy it?"
"… do not ask me."
"Okay, then this may be the last report in Hiram."
There was the sound of the door opening in the hallway. The demon packed everything up and put on an impeccable smile. He controlled the wheelchair to the living room. Mrs Edwards smelled more roses than ever before.
"You're back."
The old woman nodded at him, her eyes soft as always.
"Yes," she said softly, opening her arms and giving her son a rare hug. "Can you make me a cup of tea, boy?"
"Of course," he replied cheerfully. "The bishop just left not long ago, and he wants to find you. I heard that your mission has been completed."
"Yes, they did rescue him." She picked up the teacup and took a sip.
"You got the answer?"
"Yes."
"I'm happy for you from the bottom of my heart, Mom."
,Wonderful!
(m.. = )