For the first time, I dreamed of a beautiful scene.

It's like a fairy tale.

In the midst of the layers of light, he saw that the white-haired young man lowered his head and smiled as he put a ring on the girl, dispelling misfortune and suffering.

What does that look like...... It's as if I'm free.

Then, the dream woke up.

Charles opened his eyes and heard the kettle boiling and the wood in the stove crackling.

Someone sat in front of the stove with his back to him and watched the fire.

"It's morning?"

Charles looked up blankly.

"No, it's midnight. ”

The man in front of the stove picked up the kettle, got up, and took a large handful of scraps from the teapot on the table and threw it into the broken iron kettle.

The boiling hot water poured into the broken iron kettle, and the debris poured out, and the color became dimly red.

After shaking it a few times, the tea soup, which was not fragrant, was poured into two broken wooden cups and placed at the head of the bed.

It's like being in your own home.

Paganini dragged a broken chair and sat down in front of Charles.

"I'm sorry to disturb your dreams. Although he said sorry, there was no apology on his face, just a palpitating calm.

"What's wrong?" Charr was dazed, "suddenly ......"

Interrupted, Paganini picked up his teacup: "Tea?"

"Ah, thank you. ”

Charles subconsciously took the teacup.

He lowered his head and sniffed it, it was still the same smell of rotten tea leaves, but the water temperature was just right, not at all like it had just boiled.

Cheap scraps float in the hot water, rising or sinking downward.

For a moment, in a trance, the cloudy dark red seemed to turn into flames, rising and spreading across the earth, suddenly rising and disappearing.

Apparitions flashed from the teacups, and the burning earth and buildings flashed away, and the flames flooded the corpses and bones.

With a wail of déjà vu.

There were children crying.

Syllable!

Charles' hands trembled, and the teacup fell to the ground.

The tea soup spilled, and the unrealistic illusion disappeared.

Charles froze.

Paganini's eyes were lowered as if he hadn't seen anything, and he just took a sip of tea and put the cup back on the table.

Looking at Charles, the eyes became disappointed and complicated.

"No matter how you think about it, I can't understand why the gods are attached to people like you?"

"I'm sorry. ”

Charles scrambled to pick up the teacup tumbling on the ground.

"No need to apologize, it's not a mistake, no, for you...... Perhaps. ”

Paganini took the teacup from Charles's hand and looked down at the tea leaves at the bottom of the cup, as if he were a soothsayer, and could glimpse the future through the shape of the tea residues.

"Let's go, Charles. ”

He lowered his head, and suddenly said, "The tea is finished, you should go, go from the back of the village, and someone by the river will pick you up and take you to Anglo." ”

In silence.

Charles suddenly felt a deep pain in his skull sticking out.

Suddenly, suddenly.

Only a line of wire passed through the phantom pain.

He subconsciously pressed his forehead, and once again heard the screams of distant screams, the cries of children, and the sound of burning, the sound of the earth shattering......

But the voices soon died down again.

No, they haven't happened at all.

But the glimmer of pain spread over his spinal cord, causing Charles to suddenly feel cold, as if he had been thrown into a river of ice.

The cold snap washed away, bringing the roar of iceberg collision.

The intricate thoughts were suddenly cut off.

Paganini gave enough hints.

An idea flashed.

He had come to his senses.

"Is that so?"

Charles looked up and looked at him blankly, "Mr. Konstantin, he'...... Are you finally ready to kill me?"

The corners of his mouth twitched.

It was like trying to laugh at himself, but his expression was completely ugly.

No matter what, I can't laugh.

"Can you tell me...... Why?"

"Would you still ask such a stupid question now, Charles?"

Paganini looked at him with pity: "From beginning to end, Konstantin is nothing more than a phantom in your eyes. Your eyes can see the truth of everything, but why can't you see the essence of man?

He is that kind of person, his mind is full of things that he can't ask for, he is obsessed, and he is also deeply sinful, and he will kill anyone who gets in the way.

Charles, you're in the way. ”

"I'm sorry. ”

Charles lowered his head and apologized, as if he was used to it, "Sorry, I just wanted to ......"

"You just want to step down from the altar, don't you?"

Paganini interrupted him: "You want to change the world, to do what you want - no, anyone would think that, but you, it's so easy to change...... You will destroy all the hard work of Gaius.

It's a breeze for you. ”

In the silence, a shrill whistle could be heard in the distance.

"It's time for you to go. ”

Paganini repeated a second time, urging with a blank face.

Charles looked at him in despair.

It was as if I couldn't understand him.

Paganini frowned, and finally, sighing helplessly, reached out...... The movement was fast, like electricity, and a slap was thrown.

Syllable!

And then another one.

The blindfold was knocked down, revealing empty eye sockets, the wounds in which they cracked, and a trace of blood running down his cheeks.

The other remaining eye finally lifted and looked at him.

There was emptiness in his eyes.

It's like another eye.

"It's really unusual, don't you even have the backbone of a musician? ”

Paganini withdrew his palm in disgust and threw a box into his arms: "Take your things, get out! Don't make me say it again!"

The box was opened in the tumbling, revealing a gap, and a pure glow spread out like water.

Inside was a sealed eye, which seemed to have been heterogeneated, turning into crystals, and countless reflections were refracted on the crystals, as if they contained all the secrets and powers.

It was Charles' eyes.

The power of the gods is sealed here.

The only one in the world.

"Why help me?"

Charles asked softly, "If I die, won't you get what you want?"

"Don't take yourself too seriously, Charles. ”

Paganini glanced at him indifferently: "What I want to see is the death of the gods, not yours." ”

"—you're too much off. ”

Charles froze, quickly holding his eyes and smiling bitterly.

"yes, it's such a failure to be an ordinary person...... What world do you still dream of changing?"

He put on shoes and an overcoat.

It was bloated and ugly, like a round ball.

Put on a hat.

Push open the door.

Finally, go back and say goodbye:

"Goodbye. ”

"No, goodbye. ”

Paganini turned his back to him and said in a cold voice: "When you get to Anglo, give up those unrealistic dreams." Be an ordinary person honestly and grow old mediocrely, that is more suitable for you. ”

The footsteps were gone.

Stumble along.

It was snowing in the sky, and the thick sound faded away when I stepped on the snow.

He didn't stay.

Disappointing.

But there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with that.

So, that's it, live as an unsuccessful human for the rest of your life.

That's the only thing you can do.

Paganini closed his eyes.

The fire was extinguished in the cold wind outside the door.

"Doing something that doesn't matter, Paganini. ”

The wolf flute leaned on the door frame, lowered his head and smoked: "What's the matter, does your conscience find out?"

"It's probably the obsessive-compulsive disorder of being a musician. ”

Paganini's voice was calm, "It's just that I thought that it would be better to destroy him completely than not to finish it." ”

If only Charles could become gods.

He didn't think about such an idea.

But if the god you've been pursuing all your life is such a ridiculous thing, might as well destroy it?

Having that kind of power is never a good thing for humanity.

Makes Charles completely disappointed in the power of the gods.

Refuse to be like that......

From the rudimentary form of a god to a mediocre ordinary person.

"The flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, and the perishable cannot inherit the imperishable—"

Paganini chanted the verses of the Holy Scriptures, his eyes lowered:

"I don't deserve it, and so does he. ”

So, let him die wherever he wants as an ordinary person.

If there is fate, this is the most merciful fate for him.

In the silence, the wolf flute, who had failed in his mission, did not catch up, nor did he act with Paganini in anger.

Just bow your head and stomp the cigarette out.

"If only that were the case. ”

"It's a pity," he said, "......"

-

-

The village is quiet in the middle of the night.

No sound.

Only footsteps echoed in the snow.

It's like feet of mud sinking deep.

Charles tried to run, staggered, and finally fell into the snow, scrambling forward, looking back behind him.

There was nothing behind him.

No one is chasing.

There seemed to be a roaring sound in the distance, but I couldn't hear it clearly.

Only he was gasping.

It was such a short distance, but he was so tired, so tired that he fell into the molten slush and didn't want to get up again.

Maybe it's okay to just sleep like that.

Die quietly.

It doesn't hurt.

But the hallucinatory pain spread through his skull, dispelling the drowsiness, urging him to get up, to move forward, to keep running, to fall, to get up, to run again.

Staggering, staggering, staggering.

The melting snow took the body temperature away, and the cold hallucinations spread in his mind, allowing him to see the burning earth, the snow melting, and the flames filling the village.

Everything is burning.

Children cry in the fire, just like adults.

Soon, they all died.

Because of themselves.

Because of myself......

He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, roared hoarsely, dispelled those damn illusions, and continued to run. Finally, he was knocked down by a muffled sound coming from the back of his head.

Fall to the ground.

Someone grabbed him by the hair, rudely pressed him to the ground, and laughed excitedly: "Got you!"

"It's good luck that you can catch a big fish by peeing. The departing man grinned, bared his yellow teeth, and shouted into the distance, "Hey, come here, he's here!"

He took off his gloves and stiffened his fingers off the rope around his waist as he tried to tie the charr up, only to hear the voice of the man who had been trampled into the mud.

"Why ......"

It's Charles.

He lowered his head and buried his head in the slush, but he couldn't help but choke in a low voice: "Why......"

He cowardly shed tears and snot, and wanted to cry, but he felt anxious in his heart as if he had swallowed a charcoal fire, and could not breathe.

The pain spreads to the internal organs.

It was anger, urging him to struggle, writhing frantically, even if his arm broke. Get up from the ground and fight to knock the man to the ground.

Like a child fighting, he grabbed a stone he found in the snow and smashed it hard in the face.

"Tell me—"

He roared and hissed as hard as he could, but all he could do was make a shrill and twisted voice, like a cry: "What have I done wrong!

"Who's going to tell me why?"

"Why do I have to die?"

He roared, his hideous expression covered by snot and tears, and became comical.

The stunned face shattered, struck and twisted by the stone, one eye detached from the shattered socket, and then, smashed into mud again.

"I just want to make the world a better place......"

Charles choked up, unable to suppress his sorrow: "I just...... I was just...... I just want to save you!"

Blood-stained stones fell to the ground.

The man was silent.

In the distance, a fire lit up, a screaming sound approached, a few people vaguely ran here, and the signal arrow rose into the sky, and then, bursting into a blazing light, slowly falling from the sky.

The light illuminated Charles' face.

He got up from the ground, ran numbly, burrowed into the woods, fell, and got up again, as if he didn't feel pain.

Run in the direction of the ferry.

At least get out of here.

"Here!

At the ferry, on a small boat about to leave the shore, someone beckoned to him: "Hurry up!

The cable was untied, and the man sat on the side of the boat, reaching out in the icy water, calling for the rapids to descend.

Charles ran wildly, not caring about his breath or listening to the strange noise behind him.

Then, he saw it.

The icy waters of the river were stained red with blood.

A skull detached from its neck and fell into the water.

On the side of the ship, the headless corpse followed.

Only a Kukri knife was left nailed into the ship's plank.

A swirling cold light burst out at that moment, and it simply cut off the man's head, almost cutting through the hull of the ship, and the blade that remained outside let out a miserable roar and buzzed.

Immediately after, the notes on the sword body lit up, the power in the alchemy matrix burst out, and the terrifying shock spread. The entire hull of the ship, along with the knife, collapsed like grains of sand in the shock.

Falling into the river, it melts into a mass of slurry, rolls downstream, and soon, disappears.

Leaving Charles alone in knee-deep cold water on the shore, he looked back blankly and behind him.

In the deep woods, two spots of deep purple light lit up silently.

That's the eyes of something.

Like a jewel in the underworld, without any warmth or temperature, it is a thousand times colder than ice and wind.

In the sound of low footsteps, dead leaves and branches were trampled.

The purple-eyed griffin stood in the moonlight.

Look at him.