TBR CH66

Chapter 66: Welcome Home

Edwin had no strength. Tar knew. The Bishop managed to prop himself up in his arms, still trying to extend his arm as if to block the black mist that was about to sweep over him. The black mist was an externalization of the god’s power. A mere touch could devour any living thing, like the legendary River of the Underworld that sank feathers.

His action was no different from a moth flying into a flame. No living creature could resist the original power of the Dark God, let alone a human, let alone a dying human whose fire of life was being extinguished.

And yet… he reached out to touch the black mist, and the black mist gently perched on his fingertips.

Edwin’s pupils dilated slightly. His gray eyes reflected everything before them. In the trembling, blurry colors, Tar found himself. He stood here so nakedly, his bright, translucent eyes like water-washed rubies. He pressed Edwin’s hand tightly, embracing his entire body, placing him under his protection. The black light swaying in his hand was more dangerous, more fatal than anything, yet it bowed its head to only one person.

“I won’t let you die,” the god heard himself say. The words spoken by a god were oracles that thousands of people begged for but could not obtain. But Tar’s voice trembled. He once again nuzzled the back of Edwin’s neck from behind, leaving a series of moist, fervent kisses.

“You…”

Edwin’s heart beat sluggishly and slowly. He couldn’t think clearly due to the lack of oxygen. He had just noticed something was wrong when his thoughts were sealed by a series of kisses. Tar was like a small animal eagerly seeking approval. When he kissed him, his heart was so soft it could melt. Edwin let out a soft “hiss,” and only then did Tar stop his actions.

“Did I hurt you?” the demon said cautiously, looking as if he had never been so helpless. The problem was that Edwin needed to ignore the strangeness of the current situation to notice this. The current situation was that the square was filled with a dangerous and strange black mist. The black mist came from Tar’s fingers. The demon had not fled, and he had not died according to plan. It was almost there, yet everything had deviated from control.

Tar knew Edwin was gazing at him.

He had long since silently used his divine power to make the Bishop feel no pain at this moment. He was so glad he was a god, almost about to start thanking himself for the countless years he had spent in the golden bottle. This allowed him to save a human who had run out of oil. He kissed the human’s neck, and the power belonging to a god passed from between his lips into his body, repairing his damaged meridians, maintaining the steady beat of his heart, allowing those eyes to continue to watch him.

He made no attempt to hide it. This was not a suitable time, yet the god decided not to hide anything from Edwin anymore. For the first time, he understood what love felt like, like a rose growing in an endless snowfield of frozen earth, willingly shielding it from the wind and snow, yet knowing that the wind and snow were actually nothing to fear for it.

Tarksius felt his heart still pounding.

Not only the Dark God, but even Tar had never known that the feeling of a heart being moved was so fascinating. The young demon had walked alone in this world for hundreds of years. He had seen countless magnificent landscapes and strange tales, seen countless pairs of lovers in the world, yet he had always been indifferent to love. His steps had always been free and hurried, never thinking of stopping for anyone.

Until the human smiled arrogantly, not giving up his pride even in death; until the eyes surging with a hurricane looked at him resolutely and sorrowfully, giving him freedom and also a curse. Love hit him like thunder, like an arrow.

Remember forever? It was far more than that.

Tar knew he would spare no effort to keep him, no matter the cost.

He almost laid bare his concealment directly. The more one looked at the power in his hands, the more frightening it was. Edwin had witnessed the power of devils, but under this light, it was but a ten-thousandth. Only during the ceremony of a divine descent could the pressure felt be somewhat comparable to this scene.

Tar hid nothing from him.

The demon—no, he should no longer be called a demon at this time. The god knew how smart Edwin was. So, my clever lover, looking at everything before you, the power jumping in my hands that is enough to destroy everything, you should be able to guess anything. The god stood there anxiously. Tar stood there anxiously, casting his scarlet gaze.

His stature became even taller and more slender. His pitch-black hair spread out like a spider’s web, no longer looking so soft, but having a sharp, aggressive feel. Tarksius pursed his lips. The god had never been so nervous. He had revealed his true appearance in front of his one and only object of affection. This made him feel fear, yet he willingly accepted Edwin’s judgment.

The Bishop stared at him, then suddenly sighed and raised his hand. Although it no longer hurt, fatigue still spread through Edwin’s body. The movement was very slow, but very firm.

The god bent down to allow him to better do whatever he wanted to do.

Edwin’s fingers were cold and pale. Tarksius wanted to hide these hands in his embrace, at least to give them more warmth. But the god did not move, so much so that he watched the fingertips magnify infinitely before his pupils. The god’s eyes were different from his own a thousand years ago. Years of loneliness had made the red in his eyes like dried blood.

Edwin gently touched his eyes with his hand. The touch of his fingertips was cool and moist, linked with a small patch of mist. Tarksius blinked slowly and confusedly. His eyelids, like butterfly wings, lightly brushed against Edwin’s fingertips.

“God…” Edwin murmured, absolutely certain. The word vibrated vaguely between his lips and teeth, then broke out of its cocoon. But the human merely uttered the word, without fully understanding its meaning. So the Bishop just blinked with a little hesitation. “You cried too.”

Had he cried? Tarksius had no idea. He reached up to touch his own eyes and also found a moist trace. He suddenly understood how the demon Tar had shed tears when Edwin stretched out his hands from the white tower. At that time, his eyes were still like translucent, pomegranate-red wine.

Tarksius and Tar, the two identities seemed to be undoubtedly linked together by tears.

Do gods also cry?

Edwin didn’t understand, but he looked at the god before him. It was undoubtedly a god, with the appearance of a god and the power of a god, and also the most familiar scent of roses. The eyes looking at him were Tar’s eyes. The demon stood before him, shedding tears. He shouldn’t think too much. His heart became soft and moist because of the tears, as if it could be wrung out. He should have known that no matter when he faced Tar, he would be utterly defeated.

The Bishop helplessly opened his arms, tilted his head to look at the god before him, as if he had tripped, and a stumble made him unable to stop leaning forward. He hugged the demon who was terrified because he was seeking death.

And was well caught.

I’ll think about the future later. The Bishop at this time was just following his heart. He hadn’t been able to think through everything that had happened. His body was in urgent need of rest due to overdraft, even though he knew a majestic power was coursing through his body, repairing everything that had happened.

The god knew he needed rest. Tarksius caught Edwin as if catching the most precious rose.

Before Edwin closed his eyes—

The god whispered a promise in his ear: “Everything you want, you will surely get.”

Just as he hadn’t personally appeared to hunt the demon, Noah was waiting anxiously in the shadows of the building outside the square. After all, His Highness the Holy Son couldn’t just show up at the burning of a demon for no reason. If nothing went wrong, the Holy Knight who was at his beck and call would bring the demon who had been saved at the last moment and explain to him the Holy Son’s merits in this situation.

He was wearing the purest white clothes, while the demon would surely be in a wretched state. He had to act completely indifferent, using the pure white clothes to brush away the deep black carbon marks on the demon’s body from the flames. This would become a crucial node for moving his heart.

The script was already written.

He would save the demon who was on the verge of death and had lost all hope on the pyre. According to his calculations, the later the redemption came, the more unforgettable it would be. He calculated the time, adjusted his clothes, and thought about how to make the young Tarksius even more grateful to him. Noah didn’t mind exaggerating his contribution and taking advantage of the demon’s vulnerability.

Soon.

He suddenly had a deep purple pleasure of holding everything in his hands. If he could take down the Dark God this time, then spend some more time to deal with the God of Light, he would complete his mission thoroughly and brilliantly, even exceeding it.

Noah watched a corner of the square through the gap between the buildings.

Although he was used to hiding behind the scenes, he wasn’t stupid enough to let everything happen in a distant place far from him. He was thinking that the time was almost right, trying to adjust his angle to find the demon’s position, when he suddenly heard a commotion in the square. The origin of this commotion was unknown. Noah was too far from the square to determine the specific source of the commotion for the time being. He walked forward a couple of steps in confusion.

The problem was that it still wasn’t fast enough.

A vast expanse of light swept across the entire square, also stinging the Holy Son’s eyes. Suddenly, the square became a transparent container, which seemed to contain the sun. Everything was sealed inside the square. The Holy Son tried to walk forward a couple of steps, but still couldn’t see anything clearly.

“No way,” he murmured, suddenly feeling his plan had helplessly slid into the unknown. He began to regret leaving the item the God of Light had given him, which could block all light attacks, in his room—that was also helpless. Who knew if the demon would have some reaction to this kind of item.

But he quickly forced himself to calm down. He asked the system in his mind to check the Dark God’s position, then hesitated for a moment and added a small request.

Fortunately, he received two pieces of good news.

In the sudden light, the Dark God still stood in place, motionless. And the God of Light was not here. God knows how terrified Noah was when he saw that vast expanse of light. In the first second, he guessed whether the god representing Light had appeared here. That would not be good news for him.

So who on earth had the ability to lay down such a light, and what did they want to do—

Noah hesitated for a moment. He gritted his teeth and took one last look at the square. The problem was that he couldn’t see what was behind this light, nor could he step into it. The Holy Son knew that decisions had to be made decisively, so he quickly turned around, his back quickly disappearing around the corner. He decided to get the protective gear from his room as soon as possible. This way, at least the situation would be a little clearer in front of him.

The bad thing was that all the Holy Knights were not by his side, so he had to delay for a short time.

By the time he returned to the square, the light in the square had undoubtedly weakened greatly.

Noah put on the protective gear. He moved his feet quickly, intending to go into the square to investigate. Now he was not worried that his identity should not appear, because there was no doubt that something had happened in the square.

But, just as the tip of his foot was about to touch that patch of light and gently step on it, it was as if the day had suddenly changed. The blue sky above his head and the flawless sunlight were silently extinguished. A pure black mist silently卷入 him, mixed with the smell of darkness and blood. Danger was clamoring in this mist.

The Holy Son’s pupils constricted slightly.

He had seen this power, he knew this power. Suddenly, his long-healed chest began to hurt again. It had once been split open by this power without question. The Holy Son knew something was wrong. His brain was thinking at high speed, his legs had already acted in advance. He tried to withdraw from the square, but there was a bewitching power in the thick mist. A dangerous poison had already rushed into his body.

Noah, like the others in the square, swayed a couple of steps like a puppet.

Then he fainted in the square of the Holy See.

Edwin silently opened his eyes. He opened his eyes and found himself lying on the four-poster bed in his room. The bedding was dry and softly embracing him. The dark curtains hung down, trailing on the floor.

A bit of confusion appeared in the Bishop’s gray eyes. He quickly pulled open the curtains. The sun shone diagonally in from the window lattice, spreading pale golden patches on the floor. The furniture in the room stood silently and quietly. No one was knocking on the door outside. The corridor outside the Bishop’s room was as quiet as ever, rarely disturbed.

In that instant, he almost suspected he had just had a confused, strange dream.

Edwin’s eyes frantically scanned the room. His heart began to pound again with the fear of loss. His mind was too preoccupied to carefully think about everything that had happened. But soon, his breathing calmed down. The Bishop reached out with his left hand to touch his own neck, as if the demon’s kiss still lingered there, and his fingertips also seemed to feel a slight dampness.

A god…

A god’s tears.

Edwin took a slow, deep breath. The air was filled with the dry smell of wood characteristic of a room in the afternoon, but that had been covered by the strong scent of roses. The sweet fragrance of roses surged and swept through the entire room, as if a large rose garden had been planted here, resolutely and fervently declaring its presence.

The Bishop walked towards the desk. This was the first thing he saw. A bouquet of blooming roses, as red as blood. Unexpectedly, Edwin once again remembered the deep red eyes in his final gaze. Edwin approached it, his boots making a crisp sound on the floor. He began to think about the god and reached out to touch the bouquet of roses.

The roses were still in the pen holder.

The second Edwin fiddled with the roses, a note fell out of the pen holder.

The Bishop pursed his lips. He was now finally able to think clearly about the whole picture, or rather, the hidden parts. Tar was still a god. What had he summoned, or what did he want to possess? Soon, the unfolded note interrupted Edwin’s thoughts. He found he was still so greedily reading the handwriting, beautiful floral script, just like a demon.

“Wait for me to come back. I’ll be back tonight. I’ll tell you everything, and let you do whatever you want.”

The brushstroke seemed to pause here. Then, the demon drew a beautiful curve and signed off.

“With love, Tar.”

A certain letter in the word “love” had been replaced by a small heart by the demon, a very Tar-like thing to do. Edwin folded the note into a small square and then hid it in his sleeve. He walked to the door. The sunlight outside was bright. The world was open before him, seemingly without any concealment.

The Bishop reached out and turned the doorknob. He walked out of the room without any hesitation.

—Everyone’s account was uniform. This was the problem. Everyone present, whether Holy Knights or priests, and also the commoners who had come to the Holy See for pilgrimage and were reluctant to leave. Edwin even saw that familiar old woman with green eyes. The other smiled and nodded at him, a hint of admiration in her eyes.

The demon this morning? Of course, he was reduced to ashes on the pyre under the priest’s sentence. Lord Bishop, is there anything worth noting about this matter? Of course, I saw it with my own eyes.

Edwin shook his head, indicating it was nothing.

And the priest he had stopped asked about his condition with concern. “Lord Bishop, I heard you were unwell today. Are you feeling better now?”

“Of course,” Edwin raised his light gray eyes to look at him, something complex flashing in them, like flames, like a storm, and more like the composed expression he showed every morning when he stood on the preaching platform. “I have no problems at all now.”

Everything remained as it was, waiting for the Bishop’s inspection. Edwin walked slowly, like a general reviewing his soldiers, or a child unwrapping a gift with a serious expression. Everything, people’s memories seemed to have been washed clean. The Bishop guessed it was the effect of the black mist in the god’s hand. In short, the morning’s events had been smoothly resolved in everyone’s impression.

At the same time, someone had asked for leave on his behalf. The Lord Bishop was unwell. Before the Pope could show an embarrassed expression, the king and the nobles wiped the sweat from their brows and expressed their complete understanding in the first instance. After all, the fact that Edwin would be the next Pope was irrefutable. Time was the most insignificant thing.

Even if it was too late before the current aging Pope passed away, it didn’t matter. Edwin would of course still hold great power. After all, who could compete with him?

The attendant Bishop Edwin had sent to explain his absence curled his lips and bowed to them. He was young and handsome, a faint异色 light moving in his eyes. The king, for some reason, suddenly felt he was a little familiar. That year, in front of His Highness the Prince’s residence, when his carriage stopped in front of the carved gate, he seemed to have seen this young man.

He had a feature that was hard to forget.

Suddenly, His Majesty the King shivered. He remembered his brother, Prince Angelo, had once gritted his teeth and told him about the inexplicable failure of that plan. Bishop Edwin’s coachman should have been killed by a professional assassin, but in the end, the deceased was the assassin, thrown onto his brother’s bed, becoming the best royal news of the year.

Noticing his gaze, the young attendant turned around, his smile deepening, but his eyes were like those of some terrifying, humanly incomprehensible monster. Under his gaze, the back of the king’s exquisite silk coat was soaked with sweat, yet he blinked as if in sudden realization. “Right, I’ve seen you before, in front of the prince’s residence. I am one of Great Archbishop Edwin’s men. It’s really kind of you to still remember.”

Edwin listened as the Pope recounted everything that had happened in the morning.

Nothing had changed. The path to power remained as it was when he left it. The glittering jewels and the bright future still bowed their heads obediently before him, waiting for the Bishop’s boots to continue to crush the blood-soaked bones on the road, step by step to the highest throne.

Everything was new and shiny, and he reached out to touch his chest, feeling the blood flowing steadily in his body again. Yes, there was one last step, the last step he thought he could not take. Yet he was standing here again at this moment, having lost nothing.

The Bishop finally lowered his head. His gaze was as sharp as a blade. He tightened his grip on the scepter in his hand. The scepter was still scorching hot in his palm, the bright light rippling out in circles.

However, he knew better than anyone that after he had made such a shocking declaration, after the square of the church had been successively illuminated by light and darkness, no matter what Tar had done for him, it was impossible to hide it from the eyes of the God of Light. He could feel that the source from which he had originally drawn power had already dried up. The Light had closed its door on him.

He was now using another source.

Only a god can bestow His power on a human, and there are only two gods in this world. Edwin opened his palm. The power of darkness was spinning in his palm, knowing how to embellish itself grandiosely, like a black sheep disguised to blend in with God’s flock. Using this power didn’t even require a medium.

This beautiful and dangerous source was simply tailor-made for him.

God. This thought appeared in Edwin’s mind again. He instinctively felt uneasy, counting his noisy heartbeat, but couldn’t explain it specifically. He waited for his blood to cool down, cool enough to think calmly. He rationally confirmed the revised time for the transfer ceremony with the Pope. This old man was constantly coughing. Death was about to take him, and the God of Light had no extra pity for his mouthpiece in the mortal world.

Besides the God of Light, there was only one other deity in this world, indifferent and malicious, isolated from the world. The Dark God, Tarksius. Edwin had read his name. He tried to connect these descriptions with Tar.

Tar was soft and sweet, with the scent of roses and honey.

Tar had leaned over and given him a hug, at the same time kissing his eyes.

He could possess Tar, a low-level demon. In this world, he had decided to shelter him. He had the first person he wanted to protect. This thought made his heart beat, as if regaining life. But could a human possess a god? The Bishop felt he was thinking too far ahead. He didn’t know how a god viewed humans. Perhaps like ants. The God of Light looked at his priests as if looking at a bunch of children’s playthings.

But that was Tar.

This thought always crashed into his mind again and again when he was thinking seriously. Along with the god’s tears he had caught on his fingertips, the demon’s tears. Tar’s beautiful pomegranate-red eyes seemed as if they had been washed with water. That was because he really couldn’t help but cry, just as he was eagerly looking down from the white tower, wanting to see his lover one more time—

Edwin’s fingers moved slightly.

Time passed quickly. The sun sank in the west, leaving a circle of dim shadow on the horizon. ‘Evening’ was a vague word. He would have to tell Tar later that when asking someone to wait, one should leave a more specific time. But he decided to start waiting from now.

The Bishop walked back to his room.

Below the white tower, when the Holy Knights saw him, they lowered their proud heads. The Bishop glanced at him with a searching gaze, and the other smiled embarrassedly, pretending he was just wandering around here because he had nothing to do. Great Archbishop Edwin’s authority was too heavy. Even if he was willing to give everything for Noah, he couldn’t help but hesitate in his heart…

In his memory, he had done everything according to the Holy Son’s instructions in the morning. Noah had told him that the demon’s soul needed more careful examination, that this was God’s will, so he had done it without hesitation. He also clearly remembered handing the demon he had saved from the pyre to Noah. This memory ended here.

And this afternoon, Noah had run over, panting and with messy hair, asking him to verify everything that had happened in the morning.

He seemed to completely disbelieve what he said. It wasn’t until the knight showed his displeasure that Noah came back to his senses, put on a smile again, admitted his memory was a bit confused, and that he had properly disposed of the demon.

But he had asked the knight to go and check on Great Archbishop Edwin’s situation.

Great Archbishop Edwin merely cast his gaze, and the Holy Knight couldn’t help but lower his head. Generally speaking, the martial strength of a Holy Knight was greater than that of a priest, but the Bishop was different. Just by being close, he could feel a majestic power contained in the human before him. This undoubtedly proclaimed his closeness to the Light. Any doubt was meaningless.

The Bishop didn’t seem to mind his offense, which made him even more moved.

Walking up the steps, Edwin was very familiar with this path. Then came pushing open the door. This time, his state of mind was different from the other times. It was neither a premonition of an ominous fate, nor a joyful expectation, but something more complex.

For the past week, he hadn’t even dared to push open the door, because he knew the room was empty, that no one would be waiting for him to come back. He felt pain, because love can make a person strong, and it can also make a person weak.

Edwin pushed open the door.

The scent of roses had not dissipated, but had become even stronger. When he opened the door, the light from outside poured in through the half-open door, illuminating the god’s sparkling wine-red eyes. He was sitting on that chair as usual, but Tar in his god form was much taller, so his feet had to touch the ground. He had many differences from Tar, yet was undoubtedly similar enough to have no difference.

“Hi,” Tar—Edwin didn’t want to change the name—said, pursing his lips, looking like he wanted to appear composed, but the tightly pursed lips revealed the god’s nervousness. “Welcome home, Edwin.”

Edwin blinked slowly, and only then realized he couldn’t restrain the hot liquid welling up to his eyelashes. Too fragile and too pathetic, just for such a sentence. Everything had not yet received a clear answer. He blinked very slowly, suppressing the tears from truly breaking through his eye sockets. The water droplets made his vision clearer.

Then he noticed a detail, just a corner of the picture.

The god had long black hair that fell below his shoulders. It looked soft even in the dim light. But the long hair was not carelessly draped over his back at this time, but had been carefully and neatly tied up, both gentle and obedient.

He remembered the hair tie that had disappeared with Tar. The emptiness of the loss at that time had choked him. He hadn’t thought about this matter properly. But now…

The god was wearing the ruby hair tie.

Undoubtedly, it was that one.

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