Chapter 44: It’s sad, it’s another Monday*…
*
dad?
When I heard this name, I almost thought I had heard it wrong.
But the souls connected together kept trembling, and I could clearly sense the fear and timidity in the hearts of the cheap believers. It seemed that the person in front of me was not a blood relative, but a beast that was about to bite my throat.
The golden scepter pointed at the body, and the voice was emotionless. He looked more like a hard statue, with nothing in his eyes except fanaticism, and only devout faith.
The blond priest looked at me, or his child, expressionlessly, and spoke in a cold and heavy tone.
"You are too weak, An. With your current strength, you cannot become a powerful divine being and allow our Lord to descend into this world."
"...sorry."
His thin lips trembled, and a whimper like a dying animal came out. Compared with fatigue and pain, the denial from his father was more frightening.
Even though everything in front of him was shaking, the owner of this body still managed to get up from the ground. He supported himself on the ground with his small hands, staggered to his feet, and got into a fighting position again.
Seeing his attitude, the man in front of him nodded slightly, and the light of the magic in his hand shone again. I recognized at a glance that this was a very high-level attack magic, and I couldn't help but be a little surprised for a moment. Isn't this guy afraid of killing his own child by doing this?
Obviously, the father didn't need my thinking at all. He threw the spear of light directly at Bianyi without holding back. The latter dodged in a hurry and fell to the side in a mess.
There was no time to catch his breath as attacks came one after another, as if the people in front of him were not his own children, but his mortal enemy.
Fine beads of sweat dripped down his forehead. An took a deep breath and seemed to take a step back, causing his center of gravity to be unstable. In fact, he suddenly pounced on the opponent with a fake move. The white light in his palm flickered, forming an evil-breaking blade.
The opponent simply turned sideways and easily dodged the attack.
“Too slow.”
The cold voice was condescending, and even though he couldn't see the face, he could still feel the sharp gaze. An gritted his teeth and chanted the prayer faster.
"Great Lord of Light, I pray for your gaze, uh, cough..."
The divine power was shattered just after it was deployed. The child groaned, and his body flew out heavily, hitting the ground. The intense pain surged up, making him unable to even get up for a while.
Sweat dripped into his eyes, bringing a burning pain. An opened his mouth to continue chanting, but only a series of coughs came out.
He tried very hard, but what could a five or six-year-old do? Compared to the person in front of him, he was so weak that it was beyond description.
It was a battle between a middle-aged priest with the strongest magical power and a child. The difference between the two sides was huge. Needless to say, I had already seen the outcome.
Sure enough, even though he tried hard to get up, An was knocked to the ground again after a few hits.
This time, the disappointment in the eyes of the man called father was even stronger.
"How disappointing," he said coldly, "Is this all you have?"
"......"
The child gasped for air, sweat soaking his clothes and forehead, and fear gripped his heart, making him feel suffocated. His dry lips moved, and he seemed to be able to only repeat one sentence.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
His eyes dropped to the floor, not daring to look at the other person's face. As if he was afraid of angering the person in front of him, repentance, regret and fear mixed together and flooded into his heart, filling his entire heart to the brim, leaving nothing behind.
He didn't know what was wrong. Why could he never meet his father's expectations? Was he really a waste? Otherwise, how could he never pass his father's test?
The chaotic emotions filled the child's brain, and he forgot to get up for a moment. Until the familiar tip of the shoe came to him, it was still snow-white and spotless.
"Now that you know your problem, practice well. If you can't perform this magic successfully, you won't have to eat today."
The person who spoke turned and left, his elongated shadow dragging on the ground. Then there was the sound of the door slamming shut.
An's lips moved, and the Fourth Aviation Bureau wanted to say something, but in the end, he said nothing. The blond child silently got up from the ground. The arms exposed from his sleeves were very white. The soft skin and flesh wrapped around the bones, like a fine jade sculpture.
But on the surface of these arms, dark brown scabs climbed up recklessly. Several fresh scratches and bruises bared their fangs and claws to show their existence.
It wasn't the violence from his peers, but the layers of scars left from training.
But An ignored it, roughly hid it under his clothes, and turned to walk towards the door.
*
Over a long period of time, I have learned that human beings are far more complicated than they appear, and anyone who sees them will feel mixed emotions.
Some people have sacrificed their own children to me in order to pray for freedom from the shadow of death; others have resorted to all means and killed numerous lives just to be freed from the limitations of their lifespan; some have gone crazy for their faith, while others have sunk into depravity.
When faith reaches a certain level, many believers will become fanatics, with nothing in their eyes except the gods they believe in.
As long as the gods ask, they can even sacrifice their parents and children. This is the type that evil gods love the most.
But I didn't expect that Ann's father was such a fanatic, and his thoughts were even extreme. I had no doubt that if Samuel said a word, he would peel out his heart and offer it to the gods.
For the gods, this is naturally a good thing.
But for An, this only brought him endless pain.
An's father trained him in a strict manner, hoping that he could become an excellent divine incarnation and contribute his body to the gods one day.
But such training is like a nightmare for a young child. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot get praise and recognition from his family.
No one cared about his feelings, no one cared about his pain. Apart from endless training and reciting doctrines, the only time left was a short respite during sleep.
No emotions needed, just need to be Guanghui's favorite child.
There is no need for self, just to be the ideal child of your father.
Apart from meditation, absorbing light elements and necessary rest time, he spent almost all his time with his father, cultivating his combat consciousness.
I am like a ghost floating here, and I feel the same as the master. What he thinks is what I think, and what he hears is what I hear.
Training day after day is exhausting, but even so, An still has his favorite times.
Every morning when they prayed, the blond child knelt before the statue, and the morning light streamed down from the skylight above his head, covering him and the statue in front of him. Everything was as clear and transparent as if washed by water.
His father would put his hand on his head. This was one of the few times An could relax. He only needed to close his eyes and listen to the teachings quietly, and then perform the ceremony step by step according to the other party's words.
If something went wrong, the usually strict father would just laugh it off and reluctantly and gently guide him to start over. This was one of the few peaceful moments when they seemed like a real father and son, softening the child's heart.
A small hope rose in his heart: maybe if he was good enough, his father would love him? Now he was just too stupid, that must be the case.
As a result, the child learned to show a gentle smile to everyone, his long golden hair was as bright as the sun, he could solve any problem, and he could cast divine spells without changing his expression even when he was covered in wounds. He was the standard shining saint in people's eyes.
Since he appeared, countless people have been saved by him. They shouted the name of glory and became his devout believers. An's father is a priest with high moral character and outstanding strength.
Before An completed the Holy Son Ceremony, they always appeared together. When An was tired, the other party would take the initiative to help him solve those troubles.
An both depended on him and hated him.
It was the other person who gave him life, and it was also the other person who deprived him of his childhood. But I know that there is always a trace of longing in the deepest part of his heart.
Humans are like this, even in the most disappointed moments they still can't help but hold on to hope, and they won't wake up until they are completely burned to ashes.
After all, the desire to be loved, the desire for warmth, the desire for care, this is human nature.
For a child, this kind of request is the most needed to be met. Therefore, as long as his father stretched out a hand, An would rush to it like a moth to a flame.
After the ceremony was completed and successfully recognized by the church, the expectant child walked down the stage and habitually looked for his father. The blond priest stood below the stage and looked up at him, his blue eyes calm.
An approached him excitedly but cautiously, nervously thinking about what the other party would say.
A hug? A smile? Actually, he didn't want much. As long as he could be recognized by his father, all the hard work along the way would not be in vain.
With his heart beating in his chest, An took a deep breath as he stood in front of the man. Before he could say "father", the man took a step back and bowed his head respectfully.
"Master Goddess, congratulations on passing the trial."
At this moment, the expression on An's face froze.
He seemed to have heard something unbelievable, but the facts were so clear.
The blond child asked stupidly, "Father, what are you talking about...?"
Even though he has experienced many things, a six or seven-year-old child is still ignorant. Or maybe he already understands but is unwilling to admit it.
A faint plea flashed in her azure eyes, as if hoping that the other party would not be so cruel. But the man just raised his head and said in an indifferent tone.
"Please don't call me father anymore, Lord God-descendant. You just need to remain loyal to my Lord. Worldly relationships are just a burden to you."
He looked at the child in front of him as if he was looking at a god.
An opened his eyes wide and stared at the other person blankly. He opened his mouth, but for a moment no sound came out.
A suffocating feeling came from his chest. The trembling voice finally could not come out. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but at this moment, those words were meaningless. He vaguely realized that perhaps from the beginning, An did not exist.
Others saw the future Son of God, and the Father saw him as the incarnation of God, the body of God walking on earth. The Gods saw him as a tool. But no one saw him as a human being.
So, from that moment on.
An, the Son of Light, was born.
Betrayer who would never believe in the Lord of Light was also born.
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