The imprisoned monster was unusually quiet.

Occasionally, the young guard would uneasily peek through the small window into the dark cell to make sure the water god's prisoner was still there, and, still, alive.

The monster's white form is easily recognizable. The guard hadn't seen it with his own eyes, but he had heard that the white scales had completely covered the body of what had once been a human boy, and his hands and feet were twisted into the claws of beasts that could easily tear through human flesh. He almost even pulled out the entrails of Pastor Icabard.

Those blood-drenched descriptions sent shivers down the guards' shoulders. He was too young to have fought in any real battles. He had wondered if there were any evil creatures in the world for the paladins to destroy, and the monster behind the iron gate answered his question.

But he couldn't erase from his memory the figure of the human boy who was cowering in the corner. He couldn't help but feel sympathy, but he was also uneasy by this sympathy, wondering if he had been unwittingly seduced by staying near the monster for so long. This made his attitude worse and worse. The food that came in through the window was never answered, at first he would wait, he would urge, then he would simply throw it in.

The monster occasionally grinds his claws on the walls, and again, monotonously, harsh, and unsettling. He would knock on the iron door and shout, but it never worked. The monster just grinded on deaf ears, silently, unhurriedly, until he got bored—that was probably the only way he could resist.

The guards counted the days day by day. He'd need to stay here for a whole month before he can switch to the ground and guard the beautiful white stone bridge. It's been twenty-eight days since the monster was locked up here. In two days, he will be able to soak up the sun and breathe in the fresh air of the lake with the smell of water and plants.

That made him feel so much better. He leaned his head against the wall, letting an irresistible wave of sleepiness lead him into a sunny dream.

Iss looked up indifferently at the center of the cell, where the figure of a woman was gradually taking shape.

"Is. The voice seemed to come from the void, "Long time no see." ”

A female mage dressed in red appeared in the darkness, her curly black hair draped over her shoulders, her emerald green eyes as she remembered, but her face was unusually pale.

"Lydia. He replied coldly.

"It's cold, I thought you'd be glad to see me. Lydia tilted her head and held out her hands to him, "Didn't you say 'I like Lydia the most?' I'm here to save you." ”

"So you were the one who attacked me with fireballs and lightning in the forest. The flickering red shadow in his shattered memory was real, and he remembered that she suddenly appeared in the woods, and the colors around her seemed to fade to lifeless black and white in an instant, except for the mage's red dress and lips that were shockingly bright.

It was a bright red color like blood.

"Thank you to your friend," Lydia smiled as she approached, "If it weren't for the silver coin he gave you, I really wouldn't have guessed that Alan Cavo would have taken you back here." ”

The phantom from nowhere flashed in his mind again. He saw Laurgan, the dwarf's lifeless eyes still unwilling, and the bloodied Alan struggled to stand up in the ruins, and the hoarse cry of Nia seemed to echo in his ears through time and space:

"Lydia!—"

Lydia stood in the burning black flames, her face expressionless, her dark green eyes filled with boundless despair and ecstasy.

Iss pressed the back of his hand against his forehead, his ears buzzing, and his head ached as violently as if it had been cut in half by Ragan's axe, and there was a kind of anxious dizziness.

"You've become a necromancer. He finally understood why Alan and Scott never wanted to bring it up.

"No, I'm still a mage, but I've learned necromancy. The female mage said nonchalantly.

She crouched down, her hands resting on the black ring on Is's right wrist, and the non-physical figure shook for a while, and the double ring turned, and then there was a soft sound.

With a disgusted wave, Iss flung the powerless ring to the other side of the cell, the crisp thud echoing through the small room.

But he still sat there, staring at the phantom of the human mage with indifference and suspicion.

"What are you waiting for? there's no power here to restrain you, and the spells cast on this cell are simply not vulnerable to the real you. Lydia reached out and stroked the white scales of his cheek, "You're free." ”

"And what do you get out of my freedom?" Is's low voice no longer had the clarity of the human boy.

A sly smile slipped through the mage's emerald eyes, "My freedom, so, lo and behold, you don't owe me anything." Or ......" she leaned back, looking at Iss curiously, "you don't know who you are?"

Isis could only answer in silence.

Lydia laughed loudly, not fearing that her voice would wake the sleeping guards.

"Alan Carvo, when I met him, he was a good man of integrity and reliability, and I don't even know when he learned to lie quietly to his companions. He lied to all of us. Her eyes darkened in memory, "I know he came to see you, and at the last chance, what he told you was still a lie." ”

She lifted her dress and sat down in front of Is.

"So let me tell you the facts you should have known. It was Eren who found you next to your mother's corpse, and you were born in the form you weren't supposed to be - a human baby. There's no way we can do anything to a baby, even if it's considered evil. We can only leave you in Chrisses, a place away from the crowds, for Scott to watch you grow up. If one day you change back to your old self, Scott will kill you-"

Talon slashed through the phantom with the sound of the howling wind, "Lie!!" Isis hissed and roared, blood rushing into his brain, cold as if he had lost consciousness.

The disturbed figure quickly returned to its original form, and Lydia was still there, looking at him sympathetically: "You didn't show a single expression about your mother's death, you didn't interrupt me to ask who you really are, and you don't even seem to mind Alan...... And all of us deceive you, and fail to accept the obvious?"

"Shut up!!" Iss roared as he frantically tore open the air in front of him, unspeakable fear and despair rising along every nerve, and the cold, biting water rose little by little, drowning him in an instant.

"He's a paladin of the god of water, just like those who imprison you and don't care about hurting you. The mage's voice continued undisturbed, "They made a vow to fight all evil and darkness with their lives. Someone else might at least try to control you, but he won't. He knows your weaknesses, he has a powerful weapon, and if you hesitate to face him - oh, no doubt you will, he can easily kill you if he feels that he is not strong enough to do it...... What do you think the teleportation array on the tower of Kriessburg is for? He can summon us at any time, and we can kill your mother...... Yes, we kill it, in the name of justice," her lips twisted into a mocking grin, "and we can kill you, too." Even if you are the oldest and most powerful creature in the world, the most feared and hated evil - a dragon. ”

Isis stopped his futile attack and looked at her in a daze.

"Yes, you are a dragon, without any human blood. The form you once possessed was nothing more than an illusion created by your self-protective instincts, and it was not even as real as me in front of you. Lydia's voice softened, "You have to understand that Scott can't really treat a monster with fangs and claws like a brother - look at you now, he's always known that this is the real you." This is the human race, Is, who has done far more wrongs than any other creature, yet deludes themselves into believing that they have the right to judge good and evil among creatures older and more powerful than them. ”

Isis looked down at his hands, his anger at being deceived and betrayed boiling in despair beneath the icy waters.

"Just be yourself, Is," the mage's thin, pale fingers wrapped around his claws, "that would be much easier. Your race is far superior to that of humans, you have power and wisdom beyond our reach, you will live longer than the elves, and you should not submit to the judgments and killings that are done in the name of God......"

Her voice flickered and flickered, unpredictable, but there was an irresistible bewitchment that seeped into his blank soul little by little. More distant, yet more distinct, the whispers he had heard rang from the depths of his soul, old, cold, sacred and majestic. The ancient language that had been passed down from before the birth of giants and elves, with the magic of ancient beings that had been imbued with every speck of dust, had been passed down in his blood for hundreds of thousands of years, and he should have been born to understand.

He felt the long, thin, tough thread, still roaring in pain as he broke it.

But he was finally free.

He saw himself in a dazzling light. It was his original form, depicted again and again with fear and awe by all sapient beings. The silver-white horns are as sharp as swords, the scales covering the whole body seem to be cast by starlight, and on the huge and graceful body, the wings spread out in the wind can cover the entire sky.

The power that had been dormant for a long time finally broke free from all restraints and stretched with all its might, rejoicing.

Its soul is like a new life, its world is so vast and deep, and it has almost infinite time to explore all its secrets. It looked around, hundreds of thousands of years of history and wisdom spread like gems across the endless wilderness, but its gaze still fell on a small corner of dust:

A little boy with blond hair and blue eyes still clings to his deserted castle, trying in vain to hold on to his last treasure—the warmth of the human hand, the first footprints left in the snow and stepping on another, the scent of small snacks when he wakes up in the morning, the cheerful tone of chatter...... Yet every moment they shattered and dissipated, never to be recovered.

It watched indifferently, with cruel pleasure and tearing pain, as the vivid memories faded into endless gray, and the warmth and love of the past withered and died like rootless plants, until at last, in that little corner, the castle on the sand collapsed, leaving nothing behind.

It was the day of the demise of the human Iscontia Alan Chrissus, and there were no bones left and no tombstone left in the world.

qidian.

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