Chapter 121: Stelle: You plotted against me!
The wind howled in her ears, leaving everything behind.
Cifera didn't know how long she had been running; she just instinctively rushed forward, as if the Black Tide was chasing her.
The shops on Okhema Street and the pedestrians on both sides blurred into streaks of light in her vision, rapidly receding.
She only wanted to escape.
It wasn't until her legs felt heavy as lead and a sharp pain shot through her lungs that she finally stopped in a corner. She leaned against the stone wall, sliding to the ground, gasping for air.
It was quiet around her, with only the sound of her heavy breathing and her pounding heart. But in her mind, it was more tumultuous than ever.
"Why... did you leave me?"
That sentence, that look... Why? She wanted to ask herself why, too.
At first, only a single tear slid from the corner of her eye, then a second, a third...
"Ugh..."
A sob escaped from deep within her throat. Immediately after, the dam that had been suppressed for centuries collapsed.
She buried her face between her knees, her shoulders trembling violently. For hundreds of years, she had grown accustomed to arming herself with cunning and masks.
She was Cifera, the Swift Rogue Star, the leader of the Three Hundred Rogues, a rogue who could even outwit the God of Trickery. How could she cry?
But at this moment, all disguises were meaningless. Guilt gnawed at her heart like a venomous snake.
She had wronged him... wronged the 'Little Cat' who had once been willing to place all his trust in her. She had personally broken his trust, turning away in the cruelest manner when he needed her most.
She could even imagine the deep, bone-deep scar hidden beneath his calm gaze when he asked that question. And that scar, she had carved it herself.
She had also wronged Aglaea. That woman had entrusted her with a trick, one of the hopes for saving the world, and what about her? She had almost revealed that shocking trick at the very moment she was about to leave the Weaving Workshop.
She even... even in that instant just now, felt an inappropriate emotion for him again.
What kind of person was she? A liar burdened with lies and secrets, unable to even face her own feelings.
That unspeakable burden had weighed on Cifera's shoulders for centuries. She walked alone in the darkness, unable to see the light or find an exit. No one to confide in, no one to understand. This loneliness had long since permeated her bones.
All the emotions, all the pain, all the grievances and regrets, erupted at this moment.
She cried out in anguish.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, over her chin, and splattered onto the stone slabs, spreading dark wet marks. Her vision blurred, a haze remaining before her eyes.
The young girl cried so hard she could barely breathe, as if she wanted to shed all the tears accumulated over these past centuries at once, until the stone slabs beneath her feet formed a salty pool.
In the alley, only the figure curled up in the shadows remained, and the broken sobs carried by the cold wind.
...
The next day.
You received news that Anaxa, carrying the Spark of Reason, had initiated contact with the Council. To gain an audience with the kephale and avoid being hunted by the Council's assassins, he chose to side with them, promising to help stop the Chrysos Heir's Journey of Chasing the Flame.
Then, guided by Lygus, the Observer of Divine Rites, Anaxa embarked on a journey to Titan's Cliff. During the ascent, he unexpectedly glimpsed fragments of ancient memories. These were the astonishing pasts of the Titans—it turned out that those lofty gods were once mere mortals who walked the earth.
Afterward, Castorice learned this secret from Anaxa. Furthermore, Anaxa also found clues about the Dead Titan from those memories: Styxia, that forbidden land surrounded by the River Styx.
Later, Aglaea spared no expense to invite Cifera, asking her to take Stelle and Castorice to Styxia. After many twists and turns, Stelle and Castorice finally met Cifera outside the city and embarked on their journey to find the Dead Titan.
You stayed in Okhema and did not go with them.
In Styxia, they heard the legend of the Dead Dragon and the girl who brought death from the wandering souls. The Dead Titan, Senatos, had long since sunk into the River Styx to resurrect his sister. And Castorice was precisely the reincarnation of that Girl of Death.
At the top of the High Tower, the alchemy array emitted a purple light. The Dead Dragon was refined into form by Castorice within the array.
Stelle's time was running out, so Castorice rode the Dead Dragon back to the Underworld, passed the trial of death, and gained the power of a Demigod.
...
When Stelle opened her eyes, she saw an endless sea of flowers.
"Are you awake?"
Castorice stood not far away, standing out remarkably amidst the sea of flowers.
"Let me reintroduce myself—my name is Castorice, and I am now the Demigod of Death, the living aspect of Senatos."
She gestured to their surroundings. "This is the end of the West Wind... the Underworld."
Stelle looked around. "This place... it's truly beautiful."
"These flowers were all planted by Senatos," Castorice said, gently stroking a petal. "Originally, they neither lived nor died, but the rain of the River Styx gave them life, allowing countless souls to rest here."
"As the Demigod of Death, I have the responsibility to care for them, to let them grow and bloom in this land." Her voice carried a hint of sadness. "Unfortunately, Amphoreus won't live to see the next bloom."
"Now, the power of death is in my hands... the trial is complete," Castorice raised her hand, her fingertips glowing with a faint purple light.
"Then how do we get back?" Stelle asked.
Castorice's hand paused in mid-air. She slowly turned around, her eyes filled with apology.
"No."
"We can't go back."
The expression on Stelle's face instantly froze.
"...What do you mean?" she stammered, bewildered. "Can't go back? Is your power not stable enough? Or is there some restriction here?"
Castorice gently shook her head, taking a few steps forward to stand before Stelle.
"I apologize, Your Excellency," she said firmly. "Please remain here for now..."
Stelle stared at her in shock, completely unable to comprehend. The kind and gentle young girl, the companion whose growth she had witnessed every step of the way, was now saying something so absurd.
"It's not that we can't go back," Castorice clarified.
"Rather, until the lie of the Journey of Chasing the Flame is exposed... I cannot let you return."
"?!"
Stelle's pupils suddenly constricted. The sea of flowers was still beautiful, the breeze still gentle.
But at this moment, everything felt strange and dangerous.
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