"I...it hurts..." He uttered these three words with difficulty, as if he had used up all his strength.
His body shook violently again due to severe pain and weakness. His hands that were supporting himself on the snow sank deeply into the cold snow, and his knuckles turned white from the exertion.
"..." Mu Xinrong was completely speechless. All suspicion, all hatred, all cold defenses, at this moment, were shattered by these three words and that hideous wound.
God... feels pain?
This subversive cognition exploded in Mu Xinrong's mind like the Big Bang!
The cold memory fragments of countless reincarnations, those desperate scenes of betrayal, deception, and erasure, and the fragile figure in front of him kneeling in the snow, blood on the corners of his mouth, pointing at his wound and saying "It hurts", are madly intertwined, colliding, and tearing apart his inherent cognition!
Looking at the shock, hesitation and complete confusion in his eyes, Chao Youye felt a more violent and unfamiliar torrent completely breaking down the remaining dam of divinity.
That is not a program instruction, not a logical analysis, not a cold observation report!
That was the most primitive and turbulent feeling that erupted instinctively from this human body after it had endured pain beyond its limit, after its soul had been completely torn apart, and after its icy divine core had been scalded by the temperature of the mortal world - grievance!
A great grievance that belongs to "human beings", being misunderstood, hated, nailed to the pillar of shame but unable to defend themselves!
"I..." A broken sound came from his throat, and more blood rushed to his throat. He swallowed it forcefully, and the taste of rust filled his entire mouth.
In the violet pupils, at the center of the roiling storm of pain, a faint but extremely clear light of water, like condensed ice crystals, gathered with difficulty, bit by bit... in the depths of the broken glass.
"...I didn't...lie to you..." He used up his last bit of strength, speaking hoarsely and enunciating each word. His voice was weak, but like the final cry of a dying swan, it clearly penetrated the wind and snow.
At the moment the word "you" falls——
A drop of crystal clear, boiling hot liquid finally broke free from the shackles of the cold purple pupils and the eternal shackles of the gods, and quietly slid down Chao Youye's cheek stained with blood and snow water.
It rolled across the pale skin, across the dried blood, leaving an invisible track in the cold air, and finally, dripped.
“Pah.”
An extremely slight sound.
The drop of scalding liquid landed precisely on the back of his hand, which was covered with old scratches and scars as he supported himself on the snow.
Snow is cold and dead.
The blood is a coagulated dark red.
Only this tear is hot and transparent, carrying the temperature of mortal flesh and blood, and the most real pain and grievance after the soul is torn apart.
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