Fitney couldn't sleep all night. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info

She was thinking about what Lu had said to herself—still in turmoil. Those things don't end with a short period of reflection and inspiration.

Eventually, she rolled over and got out of bed before dawn, she first overcame a brief dizziness, held on to the edge of the bed, then stood up, looked out the window that the morning fog had not yet dissipated, simply put on a coat, and walked out.

At this time, most people have not yet gotten out of bed.

She wanted to walk around here alone.

Fitney went out into the courtyard, and when the morning mist had not lifted, everything was hazy - Fitney, who seldom walked around because of some things, found for the first time that Tashapol was actually very large, certainly not as good as Starlight, but here compared to the other mansions, there was even a small grove - enclosed in Tashapol.

She walked into the woods, and the hazy sight relieved her.

Fitney's white and golden hair was scattered, her skin was pale, there was a faint layer of cyan under her eyes, and her blue-purple eyes were a little dull in color, and she only wore a coat in her thin figure.

Like an elf lost in the forest, though she looked too haggard.

There are still a lot of things in my head, and it's very messy.

Fitnair subconsciously quickened her pace, she looked like a lost person, and even wanted to run—but she stopped as she walked briskly past somewhere, for she saw something.

She stopped and looked over there, as if it was ......

Fettnay was near the place—it was in a corner of the woods, and there was a young man, who had fallen.

The young man had pale skin, rare black hair, and a dark blue coat, as if he were familiar with Fitney—his countenance was the most remarkable that Fitney had ever seen, and he had a quiet and well-behaved temperament when his eyes were closed so that the sometimes changing blue eyes were not revealed—and he was drenched, with visible wounds on his chest and legs.

Where he was lying, there was a pool of blood.

"Ed......" Fitney opened his mouth slightly, and stopped talking.

Of course she couldn't wake Eddard - she watched for a moment out of vigilance before approaching him - and as she walked up to him, she crouched down and wiped a little of the blood with her hand that wasn't fully coagulated.

That's blood indeed.

He...... Why here? And why did he suffer such an injury......

At first, Fitnair suspected that it was some sort of ploy on Ed's part, but she couldn't find a single reason - especially since the wound was still on her chest, which was usually fatal.

After a moment of silence, Fitney stood up, came closer, crouched down near him, and put his hand under his nose - barely breathing, but, "almost" - he was still alive.

Fitnäy had never imagined that such a sick young man could have such tenacious vitality, and it made her wonder if he had persevered because of certain beliefs that had been involved in her recent confusion of thoughts, and therefore of course could not bear fruit.

She thought of her father.

Then...... Is Ed here? Even if he's not, he's aware of it, right? Like other people who were calculated by him, he didn't care about the life and death of these people at all.

She...... I had to find out what my father was thinking in such a way that I couldn't even say a word to him.

So, what about the others? Next, is there anyone else who will ......

Fitney's eyes widened slightly, and in her right hand, the golden light flickered faintly around her, and then became clear—until the golden points of light converged into a golden sword.

When the sword was fully formed, Fitnair first gave the young man a gentle push, causing him to fall to one side, and from lying on his side to lying on his back—and then she grasped the hilt of the sword with both hands, straightened her waist, and raised her hands slowly but surely—and the tip of the sword hung over the young man's heart.

Fitney's long white-blond hair slowly drooped down with her movements, and she stared at Ed's face tightly, her hands trembling, both convincing herself to stab and stopping herself at the same time.

It's this man...... He created too much grief and pain...... Kill him and it's all over......

That's it!

That's the end of it.

That's it......

It's all over...... Finish?

"Mother...... Mother ...... "Suddenly, Fitney heard a voice coming from Ed's mouth—it was so quiet that she could hear what he was saying at once.

Syllable.

The king's sword fell to the ground, and Fitnair clung to the hem of her nightdress, trembling and tears rolling down her eyes—she could barely cry, every time for good reason, but she didn't understand what she was doing, why she was crying.

"Enough...... Don't ...... anymore Someone died. Fitney muttered to herself, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

When she opened her eyes again, the haze had partially dissipated in those blue-purple eyes, and she sighed again and touched Ed's face with her hand.

It's icy, almost indistinguishable from a dead man.

It seems that he was betrayed...... In the mind of Fitney, who had calmed down a little, some of the ability to reason was returned.

No one else could control Ed's magic, and he couldn't lose a head-on fight except by surprise—a matter that was brought up by most people, and Freitnay ruled out the possibility of injuring Ed head-on.

What's more, this man never lets himself be the center of attention.

He's crazy, he makes everybody crazy, but he's standing in the corner.

This proves that all this was premeditated, and he did not do it subconsciously out of a moment of madness.

Because of what...... His mother? Elu? Vion?

Fitnair frowned, and after thinking about it without an answer, he slowly wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and stood up.

"Yes, they are all using despicable means to get everything they want, but I don't have everything I want, I just want the people I care about to live." Fitney's gaze fell on Ed's face again, muttering to himself, "I don't want to be like you." Either way...... If I'm wrong, I'll kill you, even if I give it my all. ”

She didn't think about how serious such a decision she was.

Later, when someone who knew her remembered the word "compassion," they thought of her.

"It was a terrible word for her, because it was a great catastrophe, and that catastrophe had pushed her into the abyss of pain and despair, from which she could never be relieved." That's it when it comes to interpretation.

However, it is also a decision that cannot be regretted.