Chapter 125 Chapter 125: Kissing Ebony Agarwood——C...
What should a monarch be like?
Noble, majestic, and having been in a high position for a long time, they have extremely strong control.
Possessing the highest authority and the most unparalleled strength, he can mobilize thousands of troops at a single command.
Accompanied by killing and blood, he ascended to the supreme throne and became the loneliest king.
Enjoy the resources at the top of the royal power.
One call and a hundred responses, people follow closely behind.
But Atalan's hands were as pale as dead branches under the moonlight, and all the fat had been taken away, leaving only thinness.
Those hands clearly held power and authority, yet now they were so fragile that they seemed to break at the slightest touch.
Carrying scars that have not healed for years.
Xirui lowered his eyes and head, putting gloves on Atalan bit by bit.
"Ranta."
"I'm back and I won't leave again."
The male insect's movements are gentle and delicate, as if he is handling a fragile treasure.
Atalan pursed his lips and shrank back very slightly, as if he wanted to hide.
--hide?
——Why would Ranta hide from him?
Almost in the next second, Xirui suddenly realized it. Regardless of Atalan's almost trembling struggle, he suddenly lifted Atalan's sleeve and saw - catalepsy.
Xirui frowned fiercely: "!"
Large areas of grayish-white skin covered his arms, like ashes, like burnt white ash, lifeless.
The gray mark was like a mark of death, silently corroding Atalan's body and devouring his vitality.
For a moment, Xirui seemed to be hit by a huge pendulum of fate and stood there in a daze.
His fingers tightened, and his eyes showed incredible pain and shock.
"Ranta, you..."
Atalan also cast his gaze on his arm, a dim light emanating from his golden eyes. He was the master of his own body, and he certainly knew what his body looked like. The rigidity reaction on his arm was just the tip of the iceberg.
With a wry smile, Atalan even felt accustomed to it.
Not to mention the arm.
The back, chest, abdomen, thighs and calves, all covered by clothes were covered with signs of rigidity.
This was the price he paid for waiting for twenty-five years.
The price was heavy and tormented him for a long time.
Sitting on the supreme throne, he witnessed all hardships and endured pain, just to wait for a result that might be impossible.
"Cerie, as you can see, I'm covered in all of this."
The monarch's voice was calm and almost indifferent, as if he was stating something that had nothing to do with him.
Twenty-five years.
The longer you wait, the longer the pain will last.
Xirui gritted his teeth and asked, "Where's the YH potion?"
There was a hint of urgency in his voice, as if he was grasping at the last straw.
——YH medicine, a medicine against rigidity, is the highest research achievement that allowed Ian to gain a firm foothold in the medical field.
Unfortunately, the right medicine is often ineffective against long-standing illnesses.
Atalan shook his head, his golden eyes drooping slightly, like a candle extinguished by the wind.
"It's useless. The drug resistance is too strong."
The monarch of the empire is forty-seven years old this year.
Everything comes at a price.
Including waiting.
Atalan had tried the anti-corrosive potion since the first signs of it appeared.
Atalan knew there were risks;
But he had to do it.
He had to wait.
Obsession was like a knife, cutting his flesh and bone marrow inch by inch.
Can't bear to let go, can't forget.
The obsession is too deep.
Over the years, the empire's monarchs have used countless medicines, and their drug resistance has continued to increase.
His body was like a crumbling mountain, and he could only force himself to stay calm again and again to suppress the malicious intent brewing within him.
No matter how dazzling the sun is, it will eventually set.
Sometimes Atalan felt that he was crazy, but sometimes he knew that he was actually very clear-headed.
He knew what he wanted and was willing to pay the price.
What if I can’t wait for a lifetime?
What if those words are true?
What if the male insect really leaves and really defects?
Doubt was like a silent seed, forever scratching his heart.
He couldn't help but doubt, but he couldn't help but believe.
In the end, I still waited stubbornly for a result.
"How can it be useless? Ranta..."
Xirui's fingers tightly grasped Atalan's wrist, as if he wanted to use his own strength to stop the gray mark from spreading further.
A trace of determination flashed in the male insect's eyes, and his voice was low and firm:
"Ranta, don't be afraid, I will definitely save you."
"Fear?"
Atalan shook his head:
"I'm not afraid."
Atalan looked directly at the black-haired male insect, his eyes filled with extremely strong emotions:
"Cerie, this is not your responsibility, and it is not your obligation to save me."
"Do you know why I don't want to accept other male insects?"
——This is a question with an obvious answer.
There was a heavy silence in the air, as if time had stopped at this moment.
Their eyes met, as if silently expressing those unspoken emotions.
Xirui's fingers were still tightly gripping Atalan's cold wrist.
Given the disparity in their current status, this might be considered an encroachment by the male insect.
But considering their past, no matter how close they were, it would never be too much.
If even one’s life can be sacrificed, what else can’t be sacrificed?
Atalan never for a moment forgot the male insect in front of him.
Cerie is the black sun, deep and fiery, with an unreasonable wildness.
When the male insect looks at someone quietly, his masculine charm emanates like a free gift, like an invisible flame, burning every soul that meets his gaze.
Attaran fell in love with Cerie like this.
Hopeless as hell.
now,
The male insect appeared in front of Atalan again, and those emotions that had passed away flowed back like a mountain torrent, impacting his long-dried heart.
Atalan's eyes fell on Xirui's face, carefully depicting that familiar face, as if he wanted to engrave every detail deep in his memory.
"Cerie."
He pulled his wrist away from Xirui's hot palm and slowly adjusted his sleeves and gloves.
As if to hide the inner turmoil.
"I know, this answer may be too obvious." Atalan's voice was low and calm, with a hint of self-mockery.
"Because I love you, because I like you, because I have a good impression of you, and because I don't want to give up this fantasy, so - I have waited for you for twenty-five years."
The monarch's voice was like a candle flickering in the wind, ready to go out at any moment.
"During these twenty-five years, I refused to accept any male insects."
Atalan looked directly at Xirui with an almost masochistic determination in his eyes.
"This is not your responsibility, nor is it your obligation. I know that we were not together then, and we may not be together now."
Atalan said hoarsely with a hint of bitterness.
"But I still feel very happy to see you today."
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, revealing a tired smile.
"In these entire twenty-five years, I've never been this happy one day."
This smile was like a broken mirror, reflecting his struggle and pain day and night for the past twenty-five years.
Atalan's eyes remained on Xirui's face, as if waiting for an answer, but afraid to hear that answer.
He waited twenty-five years for this answer.
Endured the pain crawling on every inch of skin.
But when he really wanted to ask.
But he still chose to stop.
He held back the question he was about to ask, his voice low and gentle, with a calmness that was almost desperate.
"Thank you for coming back."
"I won't ask you to help me. I know I've changed a lot."
In the center of the snow-white carpet, Atalan was wearing a noble imperial robe embroidered with intricate gold thread patterns, symbolizing supreme power and status.
However, there was a hint of self-mockery in his expression, as if beneath the gorgeous robe, he was hiding a heart that had long been exhausted.
He slowly raised his hand and lightly touched his face with his fingertips, as if he wanted to confirm something, but at the moment of touch, he felt an indescribable strangeness.
"I know that after twenty-five years, I'm not the same person I used to be."
The monarch's voice was low and hoarse, with a calmness that was almost helpless.
"My appearance has changed, my personality has changed."
His thin fingers slid down his cheek, gently stroking the fine lines at the corners of his eyes.
"I am no longer as young as you. Time has left its mark on my face and body."
After he finished speaking, Atalan lowered his eyes slightly, and a dim light flashed in his golden eyes, like the sun covered by dark clouds.
"Does O'Berry look like me when I was young?"
He suddenly spoke, his voice so calm it was almost indifferent.
Hearing this question, Xirui was almost stunned in disbelief.
His pupils contracted slightly, and a hint of shock and confusion appeared in his eyes.
"What?"
Atalan smiled, a smile that contained a hint of bitterness and self-mockery.
He repeated it again, his voice so calm it was almost cruel:
"Cerie, does O'Belli look like me when I was younger?"
"So young and so beautiful."
"Incredibly fresh and full of vitality."
"I'm so envious..."
This is a sigh with mixed feelings.
A trace of pain flashed in Xirui's eyes, and his fingers suddenly tightened, grabbing Atalan's wrist bone.
The wrist bones were too thin, like dry branches, as if they would break if touched.
He said anxiously:
"How is that possible? How does that guy look like you at all?"
Xirui looked directly at Atalan with an emotion in his eyes that was almost incomprehensible.
"Ranta, you are one of a kind."
"There is no one like you, either in the past or now."
"Cerie, look, you're always like this."
Hearing this, Atalan shook his head silently, bitterness and helplessness flashing in his golden eyes.
His words were like a sigh squeezed out from deep in his chest, with a calmness that was almost self-deprecating.
"It's always easy for me to be misunderstood."
The monarch lowered his eyes slightly, as if avoiding Xirui's gaze.
"I always misunderstand you—you are interested in me too."
The wrist bones are thin, and the dry golden iris branches are fragile at the touch.
Xirui held the wrist, but felt so painful that he couldn't breathe.
His fingers trembled slightly, and a deep sense of guilt and pain appeared in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Ranta. I'm sorry."
The male insect grasped Atalan's wrist, and with his other hand, he gently lifted the monarch's sleeve, revealing a large area of grayish-white skin.
Atalan's snow-white sleeves were lifted up by the male insect, and the soft fabric was gently pushed to his upper arms, revealing his pale and thin arms.
Xirui's fingers pressed the few pieces of flesh on his upper arm through his clothes. The warmth from his fingertips came through the fabric, bringing with it a burning force.
“!”
Atalan's body stiffened slightly, as if he was silently resisting, but he lost all his strength in an instant.
Atalan's arms trembled involuntarily as the cold air suddenly touched his exposed skin.
The grayish-white skin looked particularly dazzling in the air, like burnt white ash, lifeless.
Xirui's gaze fell on the arm, and a trace of pain flashed in his eyes.
The gray mark was like a mark of death, silently corroding Atalan's body and devouring Atalan's vitality.
Twenty-five years ago, the golden iris was so vivid.
Now, it looks like a dead branch.
It's not ugly, but it's pitiful.
A hint of determination flashed in the male insect's eyes.
He lowered his head.
Kissed her.
The gray skin was cold, like burnt ash, lifeless.
But the male insect's lips were hot, with an irresistible temperature.
Atalan was stunned.
“Cerie…?”
The warm breath sprayed on his skin. Although he could no longer feel it, Atalan still felt it was very hot.
The burns made his nerves ache dully.
The male insect kissed the stiff grayish-white skin on the arm bit by bit, as if trying to awaken the part that had long lost its vitality through its own warmth.
His movements were gentle and delicate, and the pheromones of ebony and agarwood were released silently, permeating the surrounding air with a deep and heavy breath, as if determined to dispel the little sanity that was left in Atalan.
Ebony agarwood.
—— Cerie's pheromones.
Atalan's body stiffened slightly when he smelled this smell after a long time.
But Xirui's kiss continued, his lips gently touching every inch of the gray skin, silently telling the words that had never been said.
The male insect's pheromones silently enveloped Atalan.
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