Chapter 82 I Forgive You
Two vines meandered from the ground, intertwining with the clouds, inseparable from one another.
The female insect's rough, bloody hands stroked the male insect's blood-stained silver hair. Her uncontrolled, chilling eyes possessed a machine-like rationality, her brow bones were sharp as knives, and she glared fiercely. In a hoarse voice, she whispered, "Hill..."
Caught between agony and madness, he uttered his deepest longing, or perhaps his greatest need: "Forgive me."
Large tears streamed down the male insect's face as it was submerged in the tide. Its fragile, crimson lips parted and exhaled scorching breath, igniting a raging fire within the female insect's body that enveloped it.
The almost materialized spiritual threads spread out into a fine white net, completely enveloping the female insect supporting itself in front of it, forming a giant, snow-white cocoon.
“I forgive you…” An equally snow-white arm reached out and embraced the neck of this heartless, mechanical female insect.
The princess has been waiting for the knight for six years.
His voice was faint and distant, as if it came from afar. Then, the voice was like a jade plate being suddenly struck and shattered, with fragments of jade scattering all over the ground.
The large, dark blue flower bud closed, tightly enveloping the two insects within, leaving only the surging pheromones and the continuous low murmurs and sounds floating and falling in the dark night.
A dark blue aircraft appeared in the sky, its twin halberds crisscrossing above the conspicuous thorns and flowers, scattering colorful rain of blood, signifying that the royal aircraft had officially taken control of this star field.
Bright rushed over: "The attackers have already left this star system and entered a wormhole. The corpses they left behind do not belong to the Empire, so they must be related to the Federation—how is Hill?"
Sirius leaned against the cold metal porthole, his long golden hair still dazzling in the darkness. He stared intently at the edge of the devastated area, where a seemingly delicate ice-blue flower bud swayed in the wind.
No one would know that this soft flower bud had just withstood the attack of the annihilation weapon. Its characteristics had never been discovered or recorded by the Empire. It seems that it has extremely strong resistance to all attacks before the breeding season.
So, did Celtic know? He must have known; he never did anything without being certain.
When did he first find out, tonight or before tonight? Was it an accident or just a coincidence?
No, none of that matters. The only important thing is Hill.
"Hill has successfully entered the cocoon stage; everything will be answered before dawn."
“Eric has already gotten what he was supposed to.” Bright looked nervously in the direction Sirius was looking.
Every minute and every second was agonizing, but they had to wait here for the final result, whether good or bad.
——
Hill walked through a vast snowfield. The swirling snowflakes were like lead weights falling from the sky, one after another hitting his thin body, pressing down on him and making him bend over. The snow was everywhere, and the wind was howling, slapping against Hill's fair cheeks and ruffling his long, silvery hair.
He was completely naked, with only an endless road beneath his feet.
He moved forward with unwavering determination and slow steps, as holy as a pilgrim, with a sacrificial purity, and like a snow demon stirring insects in the snow, bewitching all who came.
He walked alone, as if he had walked through countless lifetimes, until he came to an abandoned altar, with bloodstained shackles and ropes wrapped around a cold, silver cross, and heavy snow piled up on top of the cross.
It was as if some evil god had once been worshipped.
He walked up step by step, his thin arches rising on his toes, binding himself to the cross. Ice spikes pierced his body, and the shackles chafed his ankles and wrists.
He straightened his thin chest and offered a sacrifice to the unknown gods in the darkness.
Take me away, and take everything with you.
The snow fell even heavier, landing on this beautiful, slender, and captivating body. Strands of snow fell on his neck, his chest, his calves bound by chains, and also on his eyelids and his private parts.
He was so delicate that even the secondary snowflakes falling would tremble unbearably.
Perhaps as punishment, the snow fell even faster, turning into sharp ice spikes that pierced his thin skin, and bright red blood flowed down instantly, only to evaporate and disappear the moment it dripped.
It was as if an invisible mouth was swallowing his blood.
The torrential snow was dismembering him, starting with his skin and then penetrating deeper, cutting away his blood, his bones, and his heart bit by bit with the blades formed from the snow. An invisible wielder was wantonly controlling this world.
He was precise, calm, cruel, yet full of pity for the sacrifice, ensuring the sacrifice did not suffer any unnecessary pain. He was the most ruthless yet most knowledgeable about the sacrifice's inner world, a cruel but ruthless executioner.
Even so, one can still feel the Blood Star's affection for its offerings.
There was no pain, no despair, only contentment. A tender tear fell from the devout offering, which was then swallowed up and licked away the instant it fell.
He saw the god who was dismembering him.
He had eyes that were gray and cold, like the ancient, timeless snowfield.
Only those eyes stared at him coldly.
His senses were split in two: on one hand, he was feeling his body being dismantled, and on the other hand, he was entering the stomach of a deity.
He could feel another part of his body being consumed and devoured, being eaten into his stomach with warmth and heat. His flesh was burning hot, and the remaining part, being roasted, couldn't help but shed tears.
Why must a part of him remain in this cold snow? It causes him so much pain, so much urge to cry, and he even begins to envy the other part of his body.
Why can they enter the stomach of a god? He longs, so longs to be completely devoured, flesh and blood covering his heart, everything.
He should be swallowed whole, offered up unprotected as a sacrifice into the body of the gods, contained within their stomachs, tightly enveloped, as if returning to the embrace of the female father.
Who is the female father? He doesn't know, and he doesn't want to know anything.
The merciful god granted his devout request; he was completely dismembered, his body divided into parts and sent into the stomach of the unknown evil god.
Finally, the unseen deity lifted his still gently trembling heart, kissed his erect pulse, and then swallowed that heart of devout love.
His heart ached and felt so happy at that moment, so happy that it melted into a pool of water, and he slid into it warmly.
His blood, his bones, his heart collided together, converging in a fiery heat at this moment.
The offering had been perfectly sacrificed; he was no longer afraid of the darkness, no longer afraid of loneliness, no longer afraid of anything; he had been completely devoured.
He is one with Him, forever intertwined, never to be separated, whether in life or death, whether the universe is destroyed or eternity.
The eternal blizzard stopped at this moment, and tears of satisfaction slowly slid down from the corners of the beautiful male insect's eyes.
A completely new aura emanated from the snow-white cocoon, and the cocoon woven from spiritual threads collapsed with a crash.
Their spiritual seas were completely merged.
The eternal blizzard is Hill's spiritual realm. The glass room where he lived as a child was colorless, an absolutely sterile environment that was pure white, a perpetual, eternal blizzard.
On the horizon, a ray of morning sun pierced through the clouds and also through the gaps in the deep blue flower buds.
The reproductive period of this unknown plant ends at this moment, and its life begins a new journey.
Celtic's spirit was one of suppressed bloodshed and relentless pursuit. He had a predetermined goal, and he was determined to reach it at all costs. His life was a one-way street from which there was no turning back.
Hill underwent many surgeries to save his life when he was young. His mental strength was so strong that he could never fall into a complete coma. Every time the cold scalpel cut through his flesh, he felt fear.
It was as if insects were dismembering him while he was alive; he was so terrified that he wanted to destroy himself and even hoped that his fear would come true.
He wanted to die on the operating table countless times, so a broken and abandoned altar was born in his spiritual realm.
The congealed blood came from young Hilgard, who was tortured a thousand times, ten thousand times, until now, when he was completely annihilated.
At this moment, freed from the shackles of fate, he is simply himself.
A tear slowly fell into the center of the flower bud, and the growing pains that had been delayed for many years came to an end at this moment.
it's all over.
He finally broke free from his shackles, crossed the boundary between life and death, and from then on, the world was wide open and the road was smooth.
——
The beautiful male insect stood naked in front of the brand-new full-length mirror. His originally thin and weak long hair had become even softer and shinier, spreading from his waist to his knees in the short span of one night, swaying gently in the wind.
His snow-white body bore ambiguous marks; the female insect's imprint was like patterns left on the snow. He was slightly taller, but still far inferior to the tall and powerful female insect.
Her body proportions became increasingly perfect, rivaling any masterpiece of sculpture. From her bare feet to her slender neck, there was no flaw. Golden sunlight streamed in through the window and fell upon her body, yet it could not dispel the coldness in her pale blue eyes.
Spiritual threads lifted a soft white robe from behind, covering the male insect's body. Long, slender fingers lifted it up, concealing the back of the glossy fruit and all the lines that stirred the insect's imagination.
"Knock knock—"
A cautious knocking sounded, three times in a row, and the male insect slightly parted its lips.
"Enter."
His voice was calm, with an indescribable ethereal quality, as if nothing in the world could hold a place in his heart.
“Hill,” Sirius stood in the doorway, not stepping into the room for a long time. After a long silence, he spoke with admiration, “You’ve grown up.”
Not only his body, but also his temperament and pheromones have fully matured. He is so beautiful that he captivates the hearts of insects, and even male insects cannot help but stop and stare at him.
This is his Hill, his brother, who has overcome the most difficult hurdle in his life and entered a long and joyful adulthood. How gratifying it is for the insect!
“Your Highness,” Bright maintained the basic professionalism of a bodyguard, regaining his composure after a brief moment of disorientation, “Major General Eric requests an audience with you.”
Hill's silent gaze finally turned to him, the wind outside the window ruffling his light-colored hair.
"Major General Eric has successfully obtained evidence of Marshal Celt's betrayal of the Empire. Since you are now Marshal Celt's superior, I have come to request an audience with you."
The handsome male insect listened calmly.
The insect fell into the abyss at the moment of its happiest and most blissful moment.
This was what Celt had given him, and now he was going to return it all.
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