Shirley was stunned, while Philsa's heart was pounding. To dispel certain thoughts in his mind, he stepped forward to confirm the identity of the corpse.
Sunlight streamed through the window without glass, illuminating the two dead bodies. Even so, their blurred features remained indistinct.
As he approached, he discovered two points of red light shining from among the two charred, dull corpses, one on each of their hands and the other on the tightly overlapping left ring fingers.
"A ruby ring..."
The dazzling, unending light is almost enough to burn your eyes.
Those two points of red light were emitted by the ruby reflecting sunlight.
At some point, the rings that were originally on their middle fingers were moved to their ring fingers.
The inanimate object remained intact, but life had been lost.
The deceased's identity has now been fully confirmed.
Lampard and Olyna died in the battle against Van Tithelen, their deaths were tragic, but their sacrifice was still glorious.
Faced with the cruel reality, Philsa broke down and knelt on the ground.
The entire Obsidian Knights suffered severe damage from the powerful Fire Emblem magic, and most of them perished.
Perhaps... Olena and Lampard, though they suffered a fatal blow, were still alive.
So, having evaded the enemy's notice or after the enemy left, they fled to the guild and rested there.
Perhaps... they both knew that they didn't have many seconds left.
While they were still alive, they completed a simple wedding in this state, putting rings on each other's ring fingers and holding hands tightly until the very last second.
Maybe……
However, this is just a beautiful fantasy. No one knows whether the bride or groom was still alive at the time of the "wedding" ceremony.
Did they hear the vows they made for each other?
Or perhaps, the two of them...
The only thing we can be sure of is that they were probably embracing each other tightly until their deaths, sharing the breath of life and praying that they could live on together...
Shirley was already sobbing uncontrollably, silently embracing Philsa's back. He fought back tears, silently reciting a simple prayer for his fallen friend.
Chris's church's deathbed prayer was learned from the college; Philsa had never recited it. He didn't believe in God, nor in heaven or hell.
But this time he believed that if you believe, it exists; if you don't believe, it doesn't. So at this moment, he preferred to believe in heaven, a beautiful final resting place for the victims.
May you both be united in heaven forever, and may your love last forever.
Then, as if reminding himself, he said to his companions behind him, "Shirley, remember the name of the enemy who killed our friend—Van Titeren!"
-
For several days, Philsa remained silent. Besides the immense blow of his friend's sacrifice, Shirley guessed that he was probably still angry with her. He stubbornly believed that if she had gone into battle, things would not have turned out this way.
What a naive idea! If he were to die at the hands of the enemy like that, what would become of me?
Hunting down the enemy? Seeking revenge? Will successful revenge awaken the fallen comrades you cherished?
But she didn't dare tell her companion these things, after all, he was suffering enough too.
That day, he went out alone again without saying a word.
Philsa planned to visit the Knights' Guild before leaving, hoping to find some clues about Obsidian or his enemy, Van Titeren.
At the entrance, he happened to meet a messenger sent by the Silver Wing Knights.
He was a middle-aged man in his fifties with gray hair.
"Are you Philsa Danlitale?"
He nodded, inwardly surprised that the messenger knew his name.
"You may not recognize me, but I have seen you before. There have been a lot of big events lately, so you'd better be careful."
Philsa again pointed out to him that he was grateful for his colleague's concern.
The man looked east and asked, "Do you know what happened in Danyin?"
Philsa briefly summarized what happened, adding his feelings of guilt about his friends' deaths and his inability to rescue them in time to the narrative.
"If I had..."
“Mr. Firsa, you don’t need to blame yourself…” The older messenger spoke very directly, probably because he was older than Firsa, and his words carried a certain weight. “If the wounded go into battle, their companions will be distracted by protecting the wounded, which will add another burden to the battlefield. The situation will only become more severe, not easier because of your presence.”
The elderly messenger seemed to have been a knight in his past, and his words seemed to recount his own experiences with great emotion. Philsa was indignant, yet speechless.
"The result will be just another corpse in those ruins, and another person sobbing uncontrollably."
Every word he uttered struck Philsa hard, especially the last one. He suddenly remembered something, and the worried expression on his companion Sherry's face flashed through his mind.
He had never paid attention to these things, taking them for granted. Now, looking back, he felt a pang of emotion.
The messenger noticed that his face had become somewhat somber, but upon closer inspection, he seemed to appear much calmer and more at ease.
"Thank you so much for reminding me. I roughly understand what you mean. By the way, what's your name? I'll want to say hello next time we meet." Philsa's expression returned to normal, and she asked politely.
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