PM2:41.
In Iberia.
University of Santos Lisbon.
The sun is just right, warm and bright, shining in every corner of the University of Lisbon campus.
On this beautiful afternoon, a couple was strolling leisurely on campus. They walked on a cobblestone path, lined with lush trees. The sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting mottled light and shadow, adding a romantic atmosphere to the couple's stroll.
The man wore simple casual clothes and the woman wore a light dress. They held hands and exchanged pleasant conversations and sweet smiles from time to time.
Their pace is relaxed and they seem to be completely immersed in this peaceful and harmonious environment.
The surrounding scenery is picturesque, with ancient buildings bathed in sunshine. Occasionally, a gentle breeze blows by, bringing with it the faint fragrance of flowers in the nearby gardens, making the couple's stroll even more pleasant.
Grant's hand held Trieste's hand tightly, as if he was afraid that he would disappear in an instant.
He was afraid that Trish would leave him.
Grant's love for Trieste is like a tree that took root from the first meeting in middle school and gradually grew stronger during the three years in college.
Every time he caught a glimpse of Tristel, his heart would beat faster, as if there were swarms of butterflies dancing in his chest.
While she was away, Grant could distract his thoughts with studies and friends, but the boat in his heart always sailed to her island inadvertently. He tried to immerse himself in the waves of daily life, but he was always attracted by that gentle voice and bright smile.
A chance encounter in the library or a brief exchange of glances in class are enough to brighten his day. To him, Tristel was like a ray of sunshine in winter, warm and bright, illuminating all his dark corners.
When she appeared, Grant felt an indescribable throbbing, like the long-lost spring breeze blowing through the dead branches, awakening the sleeping buds.
His heart was filled with longing for her, longing to be closer, longing to be a part of her life.
However, sometimes loving someone may result in no response. Trisette is very beautiful, so she does not lack suitors. She is always surrounded by all kinds of attentive boys, and she treats pursuits The author's aloof attitude also keeps the group around her at a certain number.
Grant's positioning is a bit strange. He always brings her breakfast every day, and receives a sweet thank you from the other party.
Well, then it was gone.
There is no need to pay for breakfast. Sometimes Grant would give some money to Trieste to please her sisters. At that time, their sisters would always cover their mouths and smile, looking at themselves with distant eyes. Then they approached each other and whispered, pointing at themselves.
He remembered that on a rainy day, he braved the heavy rain to give Trister an umbrella.
When he gave the umbrella to the other party, her giggling sisters also took the opportunity to snatch his own umbrella. Originally, he wanted to hold the same umbrella with Tristel and walk in the rain together. , but her sister said: "We are all girls, why do you, a boy, have the nerve to let us get wet in the rain?"
The rain wet his shirt, and the cold water droplets slid down his trembling skin. Every drop was like a heavy blow from cold reality.
In the rain, he heard their jeers, sharp and mean.
This time, their voices were not concealed. In the rain curtain, he heard them say:< br>
"Look, he looks like a dog."
He raised his head and looked at Trieste, his wet hair hanging down, like the last curtain of dignity, covering up his unbearability. Temporarily blocked.
He really looked like a pitiful puppy in the rain. He looked at her and found her standing on the steps smiling at him like her sisters.
Grant's love for Trieste is like a flower blooming alone in the desert.
Every day, he brought her breakfast, just in exchange for that sweet "thank you".
But for Tristel, he was just a vague part of the background, and her aloof attitude was like an invisible barrier that would always keep him out.
Trist's friends responded with contemptuous ridicule to his kindness, but he always suffered in silence.
Perhaps, in Trieste's eyes, Grant's existence seems to have blurred boundaries. Her aloof attitude was like a transparent wall, forever separating him from her dazzling world.
The friends around her always responded to Grant's sincerity with indifference and ridicule.
"What's wrong with you?" Trieste's gentle and sweet words brought Grant back from his memories.
Looking at Trieste's unusually beautiful smile, he couldn't help but froze for a moment, then he shook his head and replied:
"..., no, it's nothing."
"You seem to be I feel a little uncomfortable, are you really okay?"
Trist's concerned voice sounded from Grant's ears again. He looked into Grant's beautiful eyes and said with a smile:
" It’s okay, I’m really okay.”
"That's good."
"Tristel..." Grant looked at Triste, hesitating to speak.
"What's wrong?" Tristel turned her head and asked with a smile.
"Do you still remember your amnesia?" Grant finally asked this question, and after he said this question, Trieste's eyes flashed unconsciously.
"Why are you asking this question?" She stretched out her right index finger to curl up the thin hair on her temples, with a sweet smile on her face and asked Grant in a coquettish tone.
"I just suddenly remembered..." Grant replied in an almost inaudible voice. He held the other person's hand and for some reason suddenly started to let go.
He will never forget why he and Triste got together. All of this can be traced back to the day when the second semester of their freshman year started.
That day, Tristel fell down gently like a feather suddenly exerted gravity. Her eyes were empty and lost the light of life.
She looked like a soulless shell in the slumped chair she sat on.
Grant rushed her to the hospital anxiously. She was placed on a soft bed, surrounded by the doctor's instruments and the anxious faces of her family.
But no matter how hard the doctor tries, Trieste is like a mermaid sleeping in the abyss and cannot be awakened.
During this long wait, Grant always sat beside her bed, holding her cold hand.
His heart was filled with uneasiness and fear, and he didn't know when Triest would wake up.
He remembered that in those days, Tristel was always surrounded by many suitors, but he was just an unknown guardian.
But now, facing Trieste's silent body, Grant felt a closer connection than ever before.
Finally, in a quiet early morning, Trieste's eyes suddenly opened.
When Trieste's eyes reopened, her family and doctors waited with bated breath, hoping to see her familiar smile and hear her gentle voice.
However, what they saw was a completely "stranger".
Trist's eyes changed, and her facial muscles twisted, as if she was trying to adapt to a new body.
When she spoke, her voice sounded awkward, as if she were an alien learning a language for the first time.
Her words were mixed with strange ancient texts and incomprehensible expressions, making everyone present feel an inexplicable fear.
Although her words revealed her unfamiliarity with human language, those intermittent words were extremely accurate.
Trisette has "lost her memory", this is the doctor's conclusion.
Facing Tristel with amnesia, her parents would sometimes inadvertently stare at their "daughter" with extreme disgust and fear, as if Triste had lost her memory. Not their daughter, but a monster that usurped their daughter's body.
Even Trieste’s parents hate “her” so much, so there is no need for others to say more.
After amnesia, Trieste lost her former aura, and her parents, best friends, and suitors also disappeared. Grant was the only one who accompanied her.
Under Grant's meticulous supervision, Tristel gradually adapts to her new identity.
Her clumsy and unfamiliar speech gradually became part of her new life.
Every time she tried to express her thoughts, it was like a scholar from ancient times trying to communicate in modern language, her words mixed with strange ancient texts and incomprehensible expressions.
Her curiosity about the world around her seems boundless. She showed great interest in things that ordinary children knew.
Her exploration of historical details, scientific mysteries, artistic expressions, and various languages and folk customs all show a desire that is different from ordinary people.
Her eyes always sparkle with a strange light when she talks about this knowledge.
Grant is both unfamiliar and fascinated by this new Tristel.
He found that he was no longer an unknown guardian in front of her, but became her guide to understand this new world.
In conversation after conversation, Grant was attracted by her thirst for knowledge, and he began to tell her about ordinary things she didn't know, just like telling a child eager to learn the wonders of the world.
However, as Grant immersed himself in this new interaction, he also felt a deep conflict.
He began to doubt his feelings for Tristel - did he admire her as a person, or was he just fascinated by her current unknown form?
As for Tristel, is this Triste who was reborn after losing her memory really the same person as before?
But in the end, they were still together.
"As long as we are together, everything is fine."
Grant said in his heart, he wanted to reach out his hand and hold Trieste again as usual.
However, this time he did not hold it.
"What's wrong?" This time he asked the question.
"Grant, is human love pure giving?...Is love such an idealized thing?
Do people need to love and be loved, do they need to understand and be understood? Is love a kind of ability? If so...then is receiving love also a kind of ability? ”
Trister asked him with a smile.
Her smile was like the flowers blooming in the morning light in early spring, bringing not only color, but also the vitality of life .
It was like a spring breeze blowing across the lake, bringing with it waves of fresh ripples. The surrounding air seemed to become warm and cheerful because of her smile.
Grant opened his mouth, wanting to. Say something, but a sense of unreasonable fear suddenly emerged
In the sunny University of Lisbon, everyone is bathed in the warm and genial light.
However, at this harmonious moment, a man wearing a black priest uniform appeared.
His right hand is holding an umbrella, and his left hand is holding a black book.
His appearance is handsome, but his eyes reveal unfathomable indifference.
When he appeared, Grant found himself unable to move.
Those amber eyes simply looked at him, then shifted their gaze to "Tristel".
The black-robed man's eyes flashed like amber, and his appearance seemed to tear open the boundary between reality and fantasy.
Grant and Trieste's eyes were drawn to him, and they found themselves in a dreamlike amber moonlight.
This scene is as illusory as the moon in the mirror, the untouchable moon hangs high in the sky, and there is a faint but continuous sound of dripping water in the air, which seems to be the whisper of the passage of time.
Suddenly, countless threads as thin as spider silk flickered around them, each thread was like a link of fate, weaving an inescapable nightmare.
In this illusion, Trieste's figure began to twist, and her skin and flesh seemed to disintegrate in the air, like a watercolor figure dissolving in the rain.
Packing——
Like the sound of bubbles bursting, the inhuman existence seemed to be directly wiped out from this world.
Cold blood splashed on Grant's face. He witnessed all this, but he could not move. He could only watch Trieste turn into a red flower in the air, and the flower bloomed in the air. , drifted away, and finally stained his dull face.
"No..." He whispered desperately in his heart.
His heart was filled with unspeakable fear and despair. His lover just disappeared before his eyes, like a beautiful but cruel dream.
The man in the black priest uniform is like a director directing destiny. There is no sadness or joy in his eyes, only a deep and indifferent amber light.
When the illusion ended, Grant found himself still standing in the sun, and Trieste had disappeared.
Looking at the bloody mud underground, recalling the shocking scene just now.
Grant finally couldn't bear it and collapsed.
"No..., this is not true... why..."
Grant felt his legs lose strength, and a wave of dizziness hit him. He knelt down weakly on the ground, holding his hair tightly with both hands. , as if this can suppress the pain in my heart.
Grant's breathing became rapid and heavy, and his chest seemed to be held tightly by an invisible hand, making it almost impossible to breathe.
His stomach began to twitch violently, and waves of nausea came over him, causing him to retching continuously, and gastric juices boiled in his throat with bitterness.
This physical pain seemed incomparable to the despair in his heart.
"Ugh————"
Tears and snot mixed together silently, flowing down Grant's pale cheeks.
His eyes were empty and out of focus, as if his soul had dissipated with Trieste in that weird illusion. His heart was full of confusion and fear, and every memory seemed like a piece of cake. The sharp glass scratched through his mind, leaving wounds that could not be healed.
Grant's spirit seemed to be on the verge of collapse, and his world had been completely destroyed by that terrifying vision.
Everything around him became strange and terrifying, and even the warmth of the sun could not touch his cold heart.
He felt like a soul abandoned in the endless void, helpless, alone, and swallowed by deep fear and despair.
Bump——
The space rippled again, and a group of fully armed legendary hunters from the [Hunting Hall] appeared here. When they looked at them, they fell to their knees on the ground and cried loudly. When Grant collapsed, his face became extremely ugly.
“Kingdom of Heaven!!!”
“These damn bastards!!!”
Didi Didi——
The warning sound of the Academy of Sciences sounded on my wrist again. At this moment, no less than a thousand "massacres" were occurring simultaneously throughout Iberia.
“This is the justice of heaven!?”
The eyes of the deep-sea hunter who led the team turned bright red at this moment.
Faced with the bloody terror brought by the number one sword holder in the kingdom of heaven, deep in the hearts of all Iberians, the burning anger is like a sleeping volcano suddenly awakening, it is a deep anger , like waves stirred up by a ruthless storm, surging and uncontrollable.
The source of this anger is the ultimate hatred for the wanton slaughter of angels in heaven. The flames continue to spread in everyone's hearts, like wildfire that cannot be extinguished.
Reluctance is like a roar trapped in the chest, and every breath is full of struggle and pain.
Spurred by hatred, heaven and angels become distorted and blurred, and every moment of their existence is like a mockery of Iberia.
That kind of pain is like countless needles pricking in the heart, and every beat makes people unable to forget the unforgettable pain.
Extreme hatred breeds in everyone's heart, like a demon breeding in the darkness, constantly devouring his reason.
His mind was clouded with hatred, and every thought was filled with the desire for destruction and revenge.
Instead of forgiveness and understanding, there is only endless resentment and the desire to fight back against those who have hurt Iberia.
In the distant deep space of ether, the four monarchs cast their playful eyes.