Chapter 79 Take Me Away: He Wants to Be Remembered
From the moment he received the truth, Reinhardt had considered telling Buster more than once. But due to his personality, he was never able to express it immediately.
His voice had been silenced for six years, and it's quite remarkable that it has recovered to its current state in just a few months.
After much deliberation, he considered keeping quiet. This matter had nothing to do with the Stormwind Bandits or Buster. Telling them wouldn't help; at most…
Reinhardt wasn't really confident he could win over many of the ladies, so he wasn't sure how they would react to the news. He didn't want them to be sad for him, but he was also a little hopeful.
I hope they will feel sorry for themselves and remember me.
It was selfish, Reinhardt understood. But he couldn't control this rather abnormal expectation.
He wants to be remembered.
As for Buster.
Reinhardt was sure he would remember it vividly, but as for the future... he didn't want to think about it for now.
He doesn't have a 'future' in mind, so he doesn't want to think about 'the future' for the time being.
While Reinhardt was still hesitating between telling or not telling, he suddenly realized that he probably shouldn't keep it a secret any longer when he heard Buster planning their future.
Otherwise, if Buster is given enough expectations but then breaks his promise, it will make him a person without credibility.
Reinhardt finally decided to speak out, at least... the little time he still had would be taken seriously.
In a world the blind cannot see, Buster's face instantly turned grim. He straightened his back, sat up abruptly, and tightened his arms, holding Reinhardt even closer.
Seemingly not understanding Reinhardt's meaning, he frowned and asked, "What do you mean?"
"What do you mean you can't wait that long? Reinhardt, what did that guy tell you? Is there something you haven't told me?"
Reinhardt's body was suddenly curled up. He tilted his head slightly, suddenly curious about Buster's facial expression, so he turned to the side and reached out to touch Buster with his free hand.
The latter realized his thoughts and leaned closer. He tried to make his expression look less ferocious, but the worry was written all over his face, and Buster couldn't quite control it.
So Reinhardt touched a small mountain between his eyebrows.
It was very elastic and interesting. He couldn't resist pressing it down with his fingertip, then stroking along the shape of his eyebrow all the way to the tail.
Buster was very anxious. He desperately wanted an answer, but couldn't bear to interrupt Reinhardt's exploration of the outside world. So he suppressed his irritation and patiently waited for Reinhardt to finish touching him before speaking after he withdrew his hand.
"What exactly happened? What did you talk about? Reinhardt, please tell me."
Reinhardt's fingers were gripped in his hand and then pressed back against his face.
This time, he touched upon pleading.
Silence spread between breaths, and Reinhardt showed obvious hesitation. But fortunately, he had learned to speak, so the momentary hesitation lasted only a few minutes before he began to slowly recount everything he had seen and heard.
From the moment he stepped onto the stairs until he was dragged into the corridor of memories, standing amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood, watching his past self, as a god, slaughter the people. Blood and body parts splattered before his eyes, and 'he,' dressed in a white robe, was stained with terrifying colors, transforming into a grotesque figure.
What did 'He' sacrifice as a god, what decisions did he make, and why was he born into this world?
His growth, restoration, and torment were all trajectories shaped by the former.
He was just a tool.
Living tools born to fulfill the last wishes of the gods.
His eyes never left the Harlin Empire, and it was precisely because of the suppression of divine power that a more tragic consequence was not caused.
If it weren't for Buster, he would have already completed that ceremony.
"What a load of rubbish!" Buster roared. "No one is born to suffer! That logic is just a pretext created by rulers to consolidate their power and imprison people's hearts with faith! You've already escaped there, but your eyes are still there. His holy father has done enough!"
He held Reinhardt tightly, his heart pounding with panic.
"I'll take you away right now, damn it, to the other side of the world! We'll never go near that damned land again!"
Buster was visibly... no, his body was aware of the panic, fearing that Reinhardt's kindness would lead him back to that wretched place.
"Screw your savior! You're not! And don't even think about it! What business is it of yours whether they live or die!"
Reinhardt nestled against Buster's shoulder, feeling his heart pounding wildly. His lips hesitated for a moment before he slowly spoke, "But I..."
Reinhardt was debating whether to tell Buster, worried that he might fall into another extreme emotional state.
Because he now feels pain from being hugged.
But he also felt very at ease; Buster's embrace was truly warm.
Reinhardt seriously considered whether he should keep it from him any longer.
“Even if I don’t go back, I won’t be able to hold on for long.” His voice was low, but every word struck Buster’s heart like an ice pick.
“Although it seems to be getting better now, without divine support, my body will gradually deteriorate. He said it could be six months or a year. In short, without those eyes and without completing that ritual, I won’t live that long.”
Buster's arms seemed to tremble from the cold.
He didn't speak, but Reinhardt sensed his anger. The next second, he was lifted into the air, feeling himself being lifted up in a horizontal embrace.
“It’s no use, Buster,” Reinhardt said amidst the other’s hurried footsteps. “That was ‘my’ decision. He was simply keeping his promise and telling the truth to me now. He can’t control anything, and there’s no room for maneuver.”
Buster, who had already reached the gate, paused and stood still.
Reinhardt's hands were tucked under the covers, so he couldn't see Buster's face. But he could guess what expression the other man was making.
Reinhardt has probably fully accepted this fact by now, and his emotions are as calm as if it had nothing to do with him.
Instead, Buster, in the darkness, quietly held him, standing motionless in front of the door, eerily like a statue.
He could feel Buster's fingertips trembling, his chest heaving as he struggled to calm his emotions.
After a long while, the Storm Leader murmured, "There will be a way, Reinhardt. Don't be afraid, there will definitely be a solution."
“I’m not afraid,” Reinhardt replied, shaking his head. “There’s no other way.”
“There must be a way!” Buster said angrily. “I’ll go and get your eyes back! I’ll go and finish that massacre! Reinhardt! I’ll finish that massacre for you!”
He didn't care about being stained with the blood of innocent people, nor did he care about being condemned and burdened with sins. He was a selfish person to begin with! So selfish that all he wanted was for his beloved to live!
Reinhardt shook his head again.
“I can’t take them away. Those eyes will wither away once they leave the city, only hastening the demise of my life. The residents of the town are innocent people too. They have suffered unjustly and should not suffer any more now.”
After speaking with his eyes tightly closed, Reinhardt suddenly raised the corners of his lips and smiled gently.
He seemed very happy, genuinely happy.
He tilted his head back, leaned closer to Buster, and whispered to the man who was clenching his back teeth.
"Take me away."
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Author's Note: Madonna: My baby QAQ Auntie could never forget you!
Victoria: TAT Did I really mean that much to you?!
Celine: T~T
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