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Chapter 239: Blood Cup

The quiet cemetery is showing some withering, the family cemetery of Ales and the palace of Ales are in irrepressible decay, and the sparse few tombstones have fallen thick snow, and the stone tombstones have signs of time wear, and only one tombstone still looks new.

Morro walked over to his tombstone and brushed back the snow to reveal the inscription beneath it—Morro Ales, daughter of Eliade.

She remembered what Eliad had said to her the night before the execution.

- No matter when it happens in the future, you will be the daughter of me and your mother, and your mother and I will watch you well, and you will live well.

- You have always been my pride.

Her real regret was that she didn't know her father's good intentions earlier, and if she had forgiven Eliad earlier instead of choosing to flee, everything would not have been like this.

The cold wind blew down her hood and ruffled her hair, and the aqua blue eyes under the mask let out tears and whimpered in pain as the wind screamed and whistled.

After graduating from the military academy, many things were not in her preconceived notions, and she never imagined that the Iliade, her father, who had scared her and made her infinitely awe-inspired, would die. In her eyes, the back that has always been tall and cold seems to be invincible, no one can shake that back in the slightest, and now, that back is gone. She carefully removed the stone slab under the tombstone, which was unexpectedly empty, but unexpectedly placed a white porcelain cup with a broken mouth, and a small bow tied crookedly with a ribbon.

It was a small work from her hands.

The cup looked rough and ridiculous to her eyes now, but it was her most cherished thing back then. She had thought Eliad had smashed the cup to pieces, and the pain of the splinters in her knees was still fresh in her memory. The meaning of this cup is almost a symbol of her father-daughter relationship with Eliade, and like this cup, it is broken and can never be repaired. It was like a basin of cold water that had extinguished all her illusions, and from then on she decided that Eliad would never go back to the way it was.

In the past years, her enthusiasm and hope for Eliad were tempered little by little in these things, and finally became a gamble. But when those grievances, grievances and gambling are gone, there is also the person against whom her grievances and grievances are located.

She took out the fragment she had treasured for many years, even though it had smoothed out the edges and corners, and no longer pricked her hand, and gently overlapped the fragment with the notch of the cup.

- There are some things that I thought I couldn't spell well for the rest of my life, and you said you didn't blame me...... I'm really glad that she frowned slightly, but the corners of her mouth pulled a smile. "It really doesn't matter, father, wouldn't it be nice to make up for the broken things?"

In a trance, she saw that the cup in her hand was shining little by little, and gradually changed, and the white porcelain cup was constantly deformed and glowing, so that she could hardly hold it.

She could barely see the shape of the cup in her hand in the light, and after a long time, the light dissipated, and she finally saw that what she was holding in her hand was the holy weapon she had brought back from Mister, the Blood Cup.

Ales's thin body in front of the tombstone was wrapped in heavy snow, and the wind covered her wanton crying, as if no one in the world remembered the grievances and helplessness of the past twenty years.