Chapter 117 Ending Day 21
"What do you mean? Do you want me to send a fake communication to that kid Lima?"
The God of Time held Chu Cheng's head with one hand, and helped Chu Cheng with his treatment with the other hand. Chu Cheng suddenly grabbed the wrist of the God of Time and organized His movements.
Looking up, meeting the confused eyes of the God of Time, Chu Cheng raised the corners of his lips.
"..Ahem..It seems that I have to fight in this final battle... In this case... Why not take back my godhood..."
Hearing this, the God of Time raised his eyebrows, his tone full of teasing.
"Okay, then find a stage and prepare to perform. I'll pass on the message to you."
Chu Cheng knew without the reminder of the God of Time that he had to perform well in this last play before the war. Not only did he have to perform well, but he also had to perform deeply in people's hearts.
Chu Cheng wanted to use this last play to prepare for his debut and give him a shot of adrenaline.
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"Cough cough..."
Big mouthfuls of blood gushed out of his mouth, dense beads of sweat covered his forehead, his gray eyes were covered with tears, and the pain and distress were obvious on his face. The hair beside his cheeks was also stained with blood, and his frail body seemed to be blown away by the wind.
"As long as He can ascend to the divine stage... whether I live or die... what's the point..."
Sentences and scenes flashed across the screen, and the whole dream seemed to be shrouded in blood. The black-haired man frowned, which was enough to show his uneasiness in his sleep.
"Lima?"
The blond god had a little worry on his face, and stretched out his hand to push gently.
"Hu! Hehe... Hehe..."
In the dream, blood gushed out again, and the black-haired man suddenly opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling in a daze. It was not until the voice beside him urged him several times that he came to his senses.
"...Karl?"
"It's me, what's wrong with you, Lima? When you fell asleep just now, you were shaking all the time, saying "No, don't die" and you wouldn't wake up no matter how I called you?"
Lima wiped the sweat from her forehead and managed to stand up on the bed. When she looked up, she met Carl's worried eyes. Through Carl's eyes, Lima could clearly see her pale face, blue lips, and dark circles under her eyes. It was obvious that she was in a bad condition.
Carl's worried expression and words in the picture gradually overlapped with the blood-stained cheeks in the dream, making Lima unable to tell the difference for a moment . Is the current scene a dream or reality?
After drinking two sips of water handed to him by Carl, Lima finally sobered up a little.
Seeing Lima's frown and unclear expression, Carl's expression also became serious. 1.
The comic enlarged the two people's eyes that couldn't meet each other, pushed the tense emotions to the extreme, and the picture fell on the corner of Lima's mouth.
Then the picture darkened, and the big scarlet words above seemed to break out of the frame.
"Lance is dying. He sacrificed himself. "
Having said that, Lima raised his head and looked straight into Carl's eyes. Carl's heart was shocked. He knew that what Lima was about to say would probably make him fall into immense self-blame and pain. The three words
"for you"
hit his heart like a hammer. The shrunken pupils, open mouth and held breath undoubtedly proved that he not only believed it, but had even guessed it a long time ago.
But Carl never thought that Lance would die.
"He...how could he die..."
From the first time they met, when Lance dealt with the wild boar, to when he and the Bellits parted ways, and to every journey afterwards, Lance always appeared so calm, composed, and strong. It was as if strength was the synonym for Lance's incarnation in the world. But how could he die?
Seeing that Carl found it hard to believe, Lima paused, his tone more serious.
"Yes, there was a supernatural fluctuation in my dream, and my dream produced a predictive effect. Lance is definitely in a bad condition now! "
After hearing this, Carl couldn't sit still any longer. He pursed his lips, clapped his hands and was about to stand up and walk out. Lima was quick to grab Carl and stopped him from saying anything.
"If the Night Goddess can't protect him, what can you do if you go there!"
Lima's words seemed to make Carl press the still button. He stood there with an uncertain expression. After a few seconds of silence, the air was so frozen that Lima wondered belatedly whether his words were too harsh.
However, after a few minutes of silence, Carl raised his eyelids, brushed the loose hair on his forehead to the back of his head, and his eyes were more serious than ever before.
"Give the godhood back to him. With the godhood, he won't die easily. "
Hearing this, Lima's eyes widened, and he moved his lips twice in a daze, not knowing what to say.
And Lima's daze was not enough to stop Carl, or it was Lima's disapproving silence that gave Carl a strong shot of adrenaline.
Wouldn't Carl know how terrible it was to be stripped of the godhead? He pieced together from Bane's language how Lance destroyed his body just to use that small piece of godhead to protect his safety.
"....."
The importance of this matter was no longer to the extent that Lima could give any advice. All Lima could do was to silently give Carl some empty encouragement.
"... Make your own decision, and I won't persuade you any more. Just one sentence, don't die there. "
Karl blinked twice, trying to smile as usual, but it seemed that no matter how he pulled his mouth, he felt extremely stiff. In the end, he could only smile a half-crying smile.
"But he has already died once..."
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The man sat sideways on the throne, most of his body leaning against the armrests. His body, long hair, and exposed skin were all covered with blood stains.
[Wow... Is this my wife? What's wrong with you, wife!?]
[Damn, why is my wife covered in blood! Wife!]
[Tonic... I've already imagined some very bad situations...]
The camera kept moving in, and the man just lay quietly on the throne, his chest didn't rise or fall at all, as if he had fallen into a long sleep.
Until the comic camera pushed to the man's pale hands on the armrest of the throne, trembling slightly, and the fists he wanted to clench could only fall down powerlessly in the end.
The man supported the throne, and almost used up all his strength to support his body to leave the throne. But his soft and weak calves were not enough for him to walk down the stairs steadily. He could only roll down the stairs in the blink of an eye, and curled up reluctantly while enduring the pain in his chest between breaths.
[Where are the people! ? Where are all the people! ? Why is my wife lying on the ground like this?]
[Someone come! Don’t let my wife keep vomiting blood! 】
Perhaps the overwhelming heartache of the readers outside the comics really resonated, and in the next screen, a trembling voice was heard.
"......Lance?"
Lance, whose face was covered by long hair, did not have the strength to lift his eyelids. The camera followed the source of the voice and squatted down. A pair of big hands fell hesitantly on Lance's face, and the shadow cast by the body almost wrapped him up completely.
After a while, he tentatively gently parted the long hair, revealing a pale face that had lost all blood color.
Suddenly seeing the sunlight, Lance's eyebrows wrinkled, and the eyeballs under his eyelids moved, and he slowly struggled to open his eyes.
The gray eyes covered by water vapor stared at the sky in vain, with lifeless eyes and unable to focus. However, the owner of the first perspective did not seem to notice this problem. He just remained silent, feeling uneasy and anxious.
[Lance...will you regret it...]
However, after a long time, there were only two people breathing faintly in the temple. The owner of the perspective seemed to finally find something wrong, and his eyes fell on Lance's eyes.
"...Lance? Lance can you hear me?"
Anxious dialogue bubbles appeared on the screen. However, Lance still looked a little dull, lying on the ground motionless, not to mention giving any response.
The director of the perspective finally panicked, and the camera turned back and forth with his movements, but there was no one else in the temple who could give him an answer. He wanted to pick up Lance, but his wounds and blood prevented him from doing so. He could only helplessly shout over and over again, trying to wake up Lance.
"Lance, Lance, it's me! Carl! You saved me when the gods turned yellow! Do you remember?"
The comic finally gave the viewer a full shot. Yes, it was Carl. Carl knelt in front of Lance, his eyes trembling, his hands raised in the air, not knowing what to do.
Facing the seriously injured and unconscious Lance, Carl, who had become a god, was still like a child, with hot tears streaming down his eyes.
"No...don't...Lance...you won't die...don't you want revenge? It's not over yet! How can you fall down!"
The boiling tears fell on Lance's face one by one, and then a smile appeared in his deep eye sockets, and then slid down his cheeks to the ground.
Carl's right hand tightly grasped the clothes on his chest, and he breathed in big gulps as if he was suffocating. He wanted to peel off the godhood, but at this moment he finally found that he didn't know how to do it. He didn't understand how he got to where he is today and how he was promoted to god.
From Atako to Bellit, from Bellit to Ferrog, and then to Tanzanite, every step was helped by too many people, and it was also the smooth road that Lance Feijin spent his life to build, just to make him a new generation of god. He was like a child who was forced to mature. He was at a loss for too many things. The
rapid collapse made Carl fall into a kind of madness that no one else could. The supernatural power waves that erupted with him as the center shook the fragments on the ground of the temple, and many people in Atako were affected by it and felt dizzy.
At this moment, Carl, who was in so much pain that he held his head with both hands, was suddenly hugged by a cold body.
".....Don't be afraid...You...are the destiny I chose."
The hand that stroked the back of his head, the frail figure, the intermittent words, instantly brought Carl's memory back to the snowy ground in the winter thousands of years ago. Lance, who was pierced through the chest by a sword, also held him like this, injected the godhood into his body, and told him. Don't be afraid, he will live well.
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