Chapter 55 Cold
"...What do you know, you lunatic without any human emotions." Ole came back to his senses, sneered, and stared gloomily at the young version of the tyrant in front of him.
This guy seemed to be healthier than he remembered. He was tall and thin, with some curly black hair sticking to his face, but his overly pale skin still made him look like a spooky ghost.
The only thing that was inconsistent was that the other person was wearing a pair of soft, thin, gray-blue pajamas that looked very valuable. Ole always felt that this style seemed to be in line with a certain guy's aesthetic.
"Ore." Someone's voice was slightly cold.
Oh my God of Night, Ole stared at his friend who seemed to have lost his mind in disbelief. Didn't this bastard hear the harsh and vicious sarcasm just now? He just opened his mouth to refute a few words?
Only the mature and calm version of Orel was inside this body, otherwise when the tyrant opened his mouth for the first word, the young Orel's double swords would have been on the other's neck.
He didn't suspect his friend had revealed his identity—Ore had long been accustomed to the tyrant's ability to see through everything. But he soon began to doubt whether his trust was misplaced. He saw his friend pull out an umbrella from somewhere, shake off the small stones on it, and hold it over the tyrant's head to shield him from the rain. The tyrant actually accepted it calmly, not even glancing back.
"A few self-talked personal attacks cannot offset the irreparable damage those stupid actions have caused me." Perhaps because of his excitement, the man covered his bloodless lips with his fingers and coughed softly a few times. His cheeks had a faint abnormal blush, and only his pair of smoky gray eyes were as cold, sharp and bright as ever, like two ghost lights in the darkness.
"You'd better start thinking about how to compensate me now," the man threatened him sinisterly, "otherwise I believe some people would be happy to get some information."
"Why can't I kill you now?" Orel sneered and casually swung the two swords in his hands. The rain washed the sharp blades that had been stained with countless blood in another world, making them sharp and cold.
"I don't know what kind of sweet talk you used to trick that guy...but I'm different. I only know one thing."
His eyes were as cold as if he was looking at a dead object, and he said to the tyrant word by word: "Never, ever, listen to a word Nova Brody says."
"Someone is coming." Azuka suddenly interrupted the two people who were on the verge of a fight, and stood in front of the professor intentionally or unintentionally.
He raised his finger slightly and gave his friend a warning look: "Ore, get out of here first."
—Or should I throw you out?
Suddenly understanding the implicit threat, Orel gnashed his teeth in anger, completely unable to understand what this guy was planning - but the long-standing trust and tacit understanding made it impossible for him to just act without regard for the consequences. After a moment's stalemate, his figure turned into a black mist and quietly disappeared from the spot.
"——Professor Brody! Are you okay? There was such a loud noise just now!"
Several frightened school workers and professors and students hurried over from a distance.
Nova closed his eyes and suppressed his anger at meeting a fool who was talking to himself. He walked forward with a cold face and told a bunch of nonsense about small tornadoes and ball lightning that were prone to sudden outbreaks in summer. He also used the little tricks of the God-favored Ones to influence cognition, and finally fooled the man away.
It's terrible, he thought. He felt cold and damp, his brain was dizzy and irritable, and more importantly, many precious medicines, instruments and specimens were completely turned into waste, and he didn't know how many could be salvaged.
"professor?"
Someone put a coat on him, and at the same time, he didn't know what was done, but he felt his clothes and hair gradually drying up and finally feeling a little warmer.
"Don't stand in the rain. You have a slight fever." The other person touched the back of his neck with concern, and his voice was particularly gentle and pleasant: "I'll take care of this, okay?"
"I'm controlling myself," Nova didn't move, nor did he open his hand. He just said indifferently: "I don't want to lose my temper with you because I know it's not your fault."
"But I still want to say it now, ** you two, Azuka."
He uttered a rare curse word. Although this person's harshness was like a venomous snake spewing venom, at least the Savior had never heard this word from him before—including in his previous life.
It seems that he is really angry.
The one favored by God blinked slowly, and suddenly smiled in the eyes of the other person who looked at him as a lunatic.
"How do you want to punish me? Please tell me." He brought the umbrella closer, his charming features revealing a deceptively gentle and submissive expression. "But first, I hope this makes you happy."
Suddenly, those scattered miscellaneous items were slowly lifted into the air by an invisible force, and most of the bottles and jars pressed underneath were intact, as if they were wrapped in a layer of transparent airbags.
The man blinked at him apologetically. "Sorry, I only had time to save the medicines and equipment on the shelf."
Just when someone was saying "hello" to him.
The "sneak attack" from his extremely competitive friend was like a daily morning greeting to Azuka. The two of them had long mastered how to fight without spilling breakfast - but this time, the professor was a variable, and he did not expect the other party to have such a big reaction.
Having made up his mind, Azuka kept smiling, thinking irrationally that his "morning greeting" the next time they met would definitely be completely enjoyable.
I forgot to mention that someone is almost as skilled in using violence as the "Blood Shadow" Orel who will terrify the enemies in the future, or even worse.
Nova was silent for a moment, then reluctantly said, "...Okay, just kill that bastard."
"What's his name, Ole Asaqi?" The black-haired young man's voice was very soft and creepy, and every word sounded like a devil's notice.
"--Very good, I'll remember that."
However, those cold and harsh words were quickly extinguished by a coughing fit. Fortunately, the bedroom was not affected for the time being. The God-Favored One frowned, sent the man back to bed, and found some medicine, watching him drink it.
This person, still obsessed with his treasure, claimed to be fine while trying to escape from the God's favored one's eyes. After finally pushing him back onto the bed and trapping him with the quilt, Azuka sighed and repeatedly promised to return him a study room that was essentially the same as before by the next morning.
Perhaps it was because he had been caught in the rain twice and his emotions were drastically fluctuating, or perhaps it was because the previously suppressed fatigue suddenly broke out at once. In just a short while, before the medicine had taken effect, the other person's body temperature had risen to the point of being scalding.
Nova huddled under the covers, half-opening his eyes as the God-Favored One busied himself with pouring water for him and wiping his forehead with a wet towel. Their movements were skillful and gentle, as if they frequently cared for patients. This incredibly unfamiliar scene, one he had only seen in books, movies, and the families of patients in the same room, left him feeling a bit dazed.
Did someone care for him like this in his final moments? I can't remember; by then, his brain had lost its ability to perceive the outside world. But there must have been someone, after all, he had already become a living corpse—the key point being that he was alive—which seemed to have a subtle and ironic sense of humor.
"So far, you have no intention of including Ole Asaqi in our two-person team, even though he has regained his memories of his past life." The black-haired young man suddenly raised his eyes. Even with a fever, his eyes were still sharp and bright. "You know him very well, and he trusts you very much - why?"
The God-favored One was silent for a while, and just when Nova thought that he was trying to fool people with the matter lightly, he suddenly spoke.
"…I can't. I can't trust him."
The savior sat beside his bed, lowering his eyes slightly, unable to see the expression on the other's face.
"To be precise, it's not that I don't trust him personally. Ole, although he's hot-tempered and impulsive, and too straightforward and stubborn, sometimes gets so stubborn that you almost want to dissect his brain to see what's inside..."
"But he's also a companion I can rely on." He replaced the scalding towel on his forehead and rinsed it with cold water again, while calmly replying, "He once suffered severe injuries for me, forcing himself to pull me from a pile of corpses, trading the two swords he'd carried since birth for money to pay for medicine. He also once carried me, unconscious, on his back through a snowstorm until we both collapsed at the gates of the Northern City. If Marshiline hadn't arrived in time, we would all have been sold as slaves."
When talking about these things, his eyes were gentle and calm, even with a hint of smile, as if he was quietly immersed in those faded memories, either painful or joyful.
"Do you remember what I said about King Corentin's defeat leading to the division of the tribe?" he said softly.
"One tribe is trapped in the deep sea, and the other is in darkness." Nova quickly reacted: "Aure Asaqi is unwilling to follow King Corentin. Is he the remaining Wind Chaser?"
No wonder. For the young male protagonist, whose clan was wiped out and who is left alone, this person is the closest thing to a family. Furthermore, this person seems innocent, has the persona of the cool second male lead, but the heart of the passionate male lead. It is hard not to trust such a person, even the extremely thoughtful real male lead is no exception.
"...Strictly speaking, since they've chosen to change their beliefs, they're no longer Wind Chasers." The God-Favored One paused, seemingly unwilling to delve deeper into the topic. "That's the problem."
"Ore is the 'Dead One', a loyal follower of Samuel, the God of Night and Death, from the beginning to the end - he also has the divine mark left by the God of Night and Death on his body." The other party's voice was still gentle, but the coldness in it became more and more profound.
"I can't trust any believer, even if it's Aure or Marshilin... Do you understand what I mean?"
Devout believers are naturally the gods' spies, and as a clergyman, Azuka knows that it is almost impossible to persuade believers to abandon their faith, not to mention that the other party is a sorcerer who resonates with the gods through faith. Abandoning faith is basically equivalent to abandoning everything.
Even if his companions decided to give up their lifelong faith and fight against the gods together with him, they still had the divine seal on them. As slaves of the gods, their situation would be far more dangerous than his own. Was he going to trade the almost certain death of his companions for a possibility?
He even felt a little regretful for involving the person in front of him, and he felt more and more regretful.
The other person raised his eyelids and looked at him for a while, then suddenly made a "tut" sound and closed his eyes again, with a wet towel on his forehead.
"Too arrogant. Arrogant, and stupid," the black-haired young man said coldly and tiredly. "I don't empathize with others, but if I were Ole Asaqi, or that Marshilin, I would definitely beat you up if I heard that. They are not unrelated passers-by, but victims raised by the gods. What gives you the right to deprive them of the right to choose?"
"You once killed a god, yet you're still shrouded in his shadow. You're simply afraid of loss, and so you'll continue to lose more in the future." His tone was harsh, but it seemed his rebuke wasn't just directed at the person before him: "Who do you think you are? A savior? Unfortunately, there are no saviors in this world, and there won't be any immortal emperors in the future."
What he said was truly shocking, like lightning hurled down from another starry sky, yet that pale, sickly face flashed with a terrifying light that made people dare not look directly at him.
"If the targets of your revenge and destruction are just a few individuals, you could indeed become a lone hero, sacrificing your own life to put an end to it all. But look at the end of all this suffering and injustice. Are we really fighting just a few crazed ghosts of the past? Even if you and I possess extraordinary abilities and have eliminated those gods, can we still fight against the warlocks and their followers who are in a state of collapse around the world?"
The other person's speech was getting faster and faster, and he even coughed and wheezed slightly. "The struggle is not the sacrifice of one or two people, nor is it even the bloodshed and death of a few people, a city, or a group. It is a never-ending wave. How can we create this wave alone? In the torrent of history, individual sacrifice is so insignificant."
Azuka looked at the fragile and lonely man in a daze. For a moment, he seemed to have touched upon some truth, the truth about why the other person went to death so calmly.
"...But I have no right to blame you, because I am just a selfish and ordinary person, an incompetent person who is smart and stupid, clear-headed and chaotic, and good at using escape to numb myself. I also don't want my teacher to be involved in this dispute, so why should I blame you for not wanting to let your companions die?" The black-haired young man closed his eyes tiredly and slowly exhaled.
"...Just think of it as me just talking nonsense because I had a fever and was confused."
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