Chapter Forty
When Twelve opened her eyes, she felt a sharp pain in her head, as if it were about to split open.
He felt pain as soon as he woke up; his whole body ached. He instinctively pressed his chest, the source of the pain.
For the first time, I felt pain not because of a lack of magic, but because of an overwhelming, overflowing sensation. The pain, spreading throughout my body along my veins, was like worms gnawing at my bones.
I should be dead; I shouldn't be opening my eyes anymore.
Realizing this, Twelve lost control and pressed down on her head.
It hurts so much, it hurts so much, it hurts so much.
My whole body aches. Damn it, I'm already dead! Please, merciful God, let me rest in peace since I'm already dead.
I must have been killed by that new priest, right? That was quite a method; he just used brute force to tear off his limbs and snapped his neck in the process.
He did it cleanly and efficiently; his skill level clearly indicated that he had killed many people in his daily life. These hypocritical people in the church are like that; they've killed more people than anyone else, yet they claim to always be on the side of justice.
Suddenly, Twelve felt the pain in his body ease a little. He raised his head and looked at the mirror in front of him.
Why is there a mirror in front of me for no reason?
Twelve didn't want to think about it; he was just looking at the part of himself that had been torn off.
The wounds there seemed to be pieced together, done in a savage way, as if something like black mud had been used to glue them together. It looked truly bizarre, and I felt as if I had become a monster through and through.
Just as he thought of the word "monster," he suddenly felt his head start to ache again. To his horror, he discovered two sharp spikes protruding from his head. They had broken through his scalp and were growing out, blood flowing from the punctured skin, dripping down his cheeks and onto the blanket covering him.
He was lying naked on a bed. He didn't know where he was, but it looked like a small wooden cabin.
"Welcome back to the world of the living, good morning."
He heard someone speaking behind him, so he turned around and looked at the girl standing behind him.
She was a girl entirely black, except perhaps for her eyes, which had red sclera and golden pupils. Her snow-white hair cascaded down her back, and two strange, broken horns grew from her head.
She was wearing... hey! Those were her own clothes!
Twelve realized that she was wearing his own bandages and robe. How strange, those things should have been badly damaged when he fought the monster during Blood Sun.
Although the bandages weren't wrapped all over my body like they were on my neck, only around my neck and parts of my legs, I really don't know what their purpose was; they seemed to be just for decoration.
"Who are you?" Twelve asked in a hoarse voice, but as soon as he spoke, he felt a sharp pain in his lungs. He began to vomit large amounts of blood, which was actually black. He vomited the blood onto the ground, like large smears of ink being poured out.
"Be good. You've just been resurrected. I don't have the skills of an angel. It's already my limit to piece you back together. You should rest well for now, at least until all your organs have healed. It's safe here, no one will come looking for you."
The woman let out a strange laugh; her voice sounded like it had been borrowed from someone else, and Twelve felt as if she had heard that voice before.
"You haven't answered my question yet."
"So anxious? Well, it's fine, it's hard to persuade you to help without explaining things clearly." She patted her chest, her voice suddenly changing again.
This time, the voice, which had a touch of girlish coquettishness, had completely transformed into a monstrous sound. It sounded like something was being spoken in a hoarse voice, giving one goosebumps.
“Uruk, Abaz, Evnkrig.” She whispered the words, which sounded like a spell: “This means that the shadow of an angel burns in the sunlight.”
"Can't understand."
"This involves ancient civilizations, but it's fine to explain. Those noble angels don't have shadows, but that doesn't mean they don't have any. It's just that, as great beings, their shadows are also alive. God bestowed his power upon these angels, and their shadows were disobedient, learning things they shouldn't have known." The guy said softly, "So as punishment, the shadows were burned, and the angels whose shadows were burned became pure and flawless."
"What exactly are you trying to say?"
"Heh, I've gone to such lengths to recount my backstory, but you don't seem interested in listening. So I'll just get to the point. I'm a shadow who survived that trial. After the war between gods and demons, I was mistakenly identified as something related to demons and sealed away." It sighed helplessly, "That's not their fault; I do look like a demon."
Suddenly, bone wings unfurled behind her, the enormous wings covered in a thin membrane. Then, she stood still and retracted her wings behind her.
“Especially with this thing added, and the horns on its head, it looks even more like one.” It said, rubbing its head. “And I can indeed use magic, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to save you. But I really have nothing to do with demons. My origins trace back to the great angel Valkyr, who possessed the holy lance Latica of judgment and the sword Abek of judgment. Although she ultimately died in the flames of the Flame Demon Flaroth, that was my origin, and my abilities are based on her.”
She spoke of these things with great enthusiasm, as if she were showing off to Twelve.
But it's definitely something to brag about, even though Twelve still doesn't understand what kind of thing this guy is. But she seems to talk quite a bit.
"Then why did you revive me?" Twelve asked in a hoarse voice.
"I want freedom."
"ha?"
“I’ve said it before, I’m sealed here.” She raised her head and looked at Twelve, saying, “I’m imprisoned in a space here, and even now I can’t truly leave. The guardian spirit and the lock are not dead, so even if I escape from here, I won’t be free.”
What is that?
"Two cats."
"..." Twelve held his head, feeling he shouldn't continue asking questions; the way this guy talked was really giving him a headache.
But she didn't seem to be going to stop talking. She suddenly threw a cross at him, which Twelve caught instinctively.
The cross was bare, but it was chained to it. Although there was nothing inside, it seemed to be imprisoning something.
“After all, I’m considered an angel’s shadow, so naturally I can do what angels can do.” She paused and said, “I can bless someone and grant them some abilities. As for what those abilities are, I don’t know. The last person to receive my blessing was able to tear through space, otherwise this place wouldn’t exist. That guy has been captured by the clergy, and I don’t know if he’s alright. But I need new help, but it seems like everyone in this city is a bad person. At least for me, there’s no safety. So I need your help.”
Why would you believe I would help you?
"Help me, for the sake of bringing you back to life." She said this as she slowly walked to the bedside, leaned down, and rested her elbow next to Twelve's ear. Twelve could feel the breeze from her breath on his cheek.
What do you mean by that?
"It was just a little seduction; I did it according to the book."
“Then you really haven’t grasped the essence. At least you should change the color scheme.” Twelve felt a headache coming on. He tilted his head to keep it pressed against the pillow so he wouldn’t touch the monster. “But what you said before was right. You saved my life once, so I should at least do something for you.”
......
“That thing should be nearby,” the cat perched on Ark’s head said softly. “I can sense her presence.”
Yak nodded and looked around.
There were only ordinary houses around, most of which had collapsed.
There were a few people scattered around. The city's reconstruction is still ongoing. Although there are far too many disturbing things in the city now, we cannot stop what needs to be done because of that.
That's life, after all. Even when things aren't going well, you can't be discouraged. Instead, you should try to live positively. Especially in times of despair and darkness, you have to force yourself to stay strong in order to survive.
Ark walked through the crowd, the cat hiding in the hood of his clothes. It needed something to cover its wings and other features that made it different from other cats. Otherwise, it would be a little troublesome if someone saw it.
If nothing unexpected happened yesterday, those two high-ranking priests should have defeated the guy that Little Spider mentioned could use spatial powers.
But the lock was still in the city; it escaped and wasn't caught.
This really deserves praise. Escaping from the clutches of a clergyman is something to brag about, something to be so proud of.
Oh, I think we were talking about Spider-Man, Chrison. That guy disappeared two days ago. Mercenary Deedris also went missing around the same time.
However, Ark wasn't worried about the two at all. They were both strong and capable of taking care of themselves. Naturally, Ark didn't need to think too much about them.
They may have seen something interesting that needs further investigation. They don't necessarily have to report their progress to Ark, and naturally, they have no right to inquire where they are now.
The streets have been cleaned up, and food supplies have resumed. People are going door-to-door counting the dead so that vacant houses can be made available to those in need.
The dead don't need resources or shelter, but the living do.
You don't need to listen carefully to hear sobbing coming from some houses; I guess someone important has died.
Hearing this voice always made Yak feel uneasy, and he would subconsciously think about all sorts of random things.
Is it more painful for a child to watch their mother die, or for a mother to watch her child die?
Anyway, Ark has seen both scenarios, including witnessing his mother die first and then his child die. That guy didn't seem to cry back then. I wonder how he's doing now; if he hadn't committed suicide, he probably wouldn't be alive now. It's been several decades since then, barring any unforeseen circumstances. Humans rarely live that long. Anyway, that guy is probably no longer in this world.
Thinking about it this way, the world is truly heartless, showing absolutely no mercy to the living.
Ark didn't want to think about these questions anymore; dwelling on them would only lead nowhere. Countless people had committed suicide because of similar philosophical dilemmas.
Clearly, Ark didn't want to die over such nonsense. Although he hadn't decided how he should die, it probably wasn't this kind of problem.
Ark closed his eyes, and the whole world unfolded from a different perspective as he used his abilities to search for suspicious locations.
After all, things inside usually harbor some kind of hatred, and this unique hatred can create a strong malice. Therefore, Ark was able to use this method to find those who were trying to hide themselves in the crowd.
In addition, not many people know that he has this ability, so it's unlikely that anyone would specifically train themselves to react to certain situations in order to target him.
Yak slowly turned his head, somewhat concerned about the ruins in front of him.
This must have been a wooden house, but it has collapsed. A few people are here tidying up the rooms, keeping the things that still seem usable. They plan to move them out and give them to those who need them.
There were no problems with any of these, but Yak felt something was off.
He has an extraordinary ability to judge things subconsciously; his body subconsciously combines his past experiences with his judgment to tell him that something is wrong.
Sometimes, you can't even keep up with your own thinking, so you can't immediately see what's wrong.
But something felt slightly off; there seemed to be something strange about the scene in front of me.
Yak looked up and was illuminated by the reflection. He saw the mirror reflecting his image.
After hesitating for a long time, he turned around and prepared to leave.
Sure enough, nothing strange was found. Perhaps it's because I've been under a lot of pressure lately and my nerves are a bit oversensitive.
After walking for a very long time, Yak suddenly stopped.
He realized something was wrong, but when he turned around again, everything had returned to normal.
There shouldn't be a nearly intact mirror in a collapsed house. But by the time he realized it, the mirror was already shattered.
It was completely shattered, as if it had been hit by a heavy punch. The entire mirror was covered in shards of glass.
These fragments look truly chilling, as if something is trying to cover up its traces.
Ark sensed hostility from behind. He slowly turned around and saw the eyes that were gazing at him from afar.
He was far away, but he saw him. Although he disappeared in the next moment, it seemed as if he had been observing him just moments before.
It's like observing prey.
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