Volume Five: Return from the Other Shore - My Dearest (1)

"Welcome, Miss Ye. Madam has been waiting for you for some time."

"... Well, I'm really sorry."

For a moment, I wondered if I was in the mansion of some nobleman, rather than in this Cathedral of the True God that had become a battlefield. Deacons and maids stood on both sides of the road, a sight that was dazzling at first glance.

That's the kind of scene you often see in anime where the protagonist goes to his rich classmate's mansion, and as soon as he enters, he's greeted by rows of maids and servants standing in neat rows. That's exactly the situation I'm in now. Looking around, there are men on the left and women on the right, and I feel like a VIP being welcomed into the mansion by the master.

The men on the left were all dressed in impeccably tailored butler uniforms, and were so handsome that one wondered if good looks were becoming increasingly worthless these days. They were the kind of universally appealing type that could please anyone from elementary school students to middle-aged women. If you squinted, it seemed that every servant looked almost identical, with very little distinction between them. Although they were handsome, they didn't leave any particularly strong impressions.

The women on the right are also dressed in uniform British maid outfits. They all have pretty faces and achieve a perfect balance between simplicity and charm. But like the men on the left, they all look almost identical. Their appearance, figure, temperament, and recognizability are all frighteningly low.

They were all expressionless, staring straight ahead, and after that initial welcoming speech—let's call it a welcoming speech for now—they hadn't uttered a single word, as if they hadn't even blinked.

"Ah... hello?"

I tried to say hello, but there was still no response.

... Can't you even give any response?

I pointed my fingertip at the nearest servant—

"Blood Blade."

A crescent-shaped beam of blood flew toward the servant's neck, severing his head without resistance. Blood spurted from the severed shoulder, and the headless body fell comically to the ground.

With a flick of my blood-red tentacle, his still-stiff head was in my hand. I bounced it up and down a few times like a basketball, then casually tossed it to a maid on my right.

The two heads collided with a comical sound, and blood splattered from the severed neck, covering her face and soiling her maid outfit.

"..."

I stared intently at her, trying to find even the slightest change in her expression, but she remained indifferent, not even wiping the blood from her face. I glanced at the people next to her; they were still standing ramrod straight ahead, as if nothing had happened.

This is a bit boring... But then again, if I pinned a girl to the ground and had sex with her, they wouldn't react, right? That seems to make things interesting again.

Now is certainly not the time to do this; their meaning is clear—this road is the stairway to the decisive battle where the lady is. Look closely at the road surface; everywhere else is full of rubble and debris, but this road is smooth and flat, without a speck of dust.

It was specially made to welcome my arrival.

Walking on this brand-new road, with servants and maids on both sides, it truly felt like stepping into another world.

Has Blood Fiend ever been treated the same way?

At the end of the road is a tall tower.

This is probably the landmark of the entire Cathedral of the True God, exceeding the height of the Eiffel Tower. Its corundum-textured tower is both a testament to the wisdom of architects and an unparalleled work of art.

I see. What a wonderful stage! This certainly seems like the kind of place that lady would like.

Leaning against the intricately carved walls, feeling the long history they bear, I realize this beautiful and historically significant building will likely soon vanish into nothingness. But there's nothing to regret; the two most beautiful moments of anything are birth and destruction. What kind of brilliance will erupt at the moment this stage is destroyed?

It depends on who extends the invitation to me.

"We've arrived..."

She was waiting for me in the room at the top of the spire.

This is a small room of only twenty square meters. Although it is not spacious, its sacred beauty amazes even me. The walls here are not made of corundum like the rest of the room, but are covered with extremely colorful stained glass windows. The shimmering light and color are not vulgar at all, but rather overflow with a sacred and solemn atmosphere. Even I, who do not understand religion, am deeply shocked.

The holy light that filled the sky, causing concern about potential light pollution, was shattered by the stained glass window panes, blurred by the stained glass, and finally became a vibrant, colorful spectacle when it entered the room.

And she is right here.

With its back to me, it leaned gently against the stained-glass window opposite me, seemingly observing the scenery outside.

The VIP seats at the very top of the theater—that was the strange association that suddenly came to me.

"..."

She didn't speak, and neither did I.

There was no tense atmosphere of an imminent battle here, nor did she unleash the terrifying aura of a powerful figure. We were like two audience members who had arrived at the theater early before the performance began, strangers meeting by chance, yet both anticipating the same dramatic scene.

She was remarkably tall; Xiao Wu was already over 1.8 meters, and she was even taller. She wore an extravagantly ornate long dress, adorned with delicate lace and ribbons, the skirt billowing loosely. Despite her mature and voluptuous figure, the excessive floral embellishments of her dress gave her a dreamy, girlish charm, a mysterious sense of disharmony—yet even this disharmony suited her perfectly. Because many who saw her thought, "No, such a mature beauty should wear clothes that suit her better," it was precisely because of this imperfection and disharmony that people used their imagination to compensate, repeatedly savoring her perfect body, repeatedly juxtaposing it with their ideal image, and ultimately presenting... her most perfect self, belonging to each individual.

I walked towards her quietly.

My blood was a little restless, but I carefully suppressed it, not wanting to disturb anyone.

Before I came here, I never imagined that I would stand shoulder to shoulder with my arch-enemies in every sense of the word, standing together in front of the beautiful stained-glass windows, bathed in colorful light, overlooking the entire Cathedral of the True God like a first-class audience member.

She was on the left, I was on the right, our shoulders no more than twenty centimeters apart. With just a turn of my head, her long, golden hair with curled ends would come into view. Even I, who have never been a fan of blonde characters, had to admit that this was absolutely the most beautiful hair I had ever seen, like flawless golden threads that scattered gold dust with every sway. I could smell an alluring fragrance, like a blend of high-end perfume and the scent of roses, luxurious yet not vulgar, perfectly suited to her.

For some reason, I felt calmer.

Stroking through the smooth stained-glass windows, I looked down at the religious buildings below. Their orderly arrangement was aesthetically pleasing, and the varying heights of the chapels and other structures created a sense of depth. The golden and silver roofs shimmered in the sunlight. It was beautiful, truly beautiful. I had never imagined that this place, which I had always considered an enemy stronghold, could be such a beautiful work of architectural art.

But this massive work of art is now riddled with flaws; large areas of houses have become ruins, roads are shattered, smoke rises, and paladins have fallen—everything is ruining its beauty.

"... What a pity," I couldn't help but murmur.

"However, this kind of scenery has its own unique charm."

The first time she spoke, her voice was absolutely perfect. If my ears were constantly bathed in such beautiful sound, I probably wouldn't be able to hear anything else for the rest of my life.

"You mean... the beauty of imperfection?"

"It's not just that. Imperfections create regrets, and it's often these regrets that inspire contemplation."

"Does it evoke contemplation...?" I looked down at the dilapidated building and the blood-stained corpses. "I can probably understand... The original orderly beauty was indeed wonderful, but it wasn't enough."

"Oh? Tell me, what's not enough?" She tilted her head slightly, her bright red lips curving into a slight smile.

"Hmm... The original, intact Cathedral of the True God had a neat and magnificent architectural complex, with large areas of flawless bright color matching, which in itself could create a great sense of awe... In other words, that was the overwhelming sensory enjoyment first and foremost, and everything else was less important in comparison... Uh... Sorry, I'm not quite sure how to put my thoughts into words."

"It's okay, I understand. Go on?"

"The Cathedral of the True God, now ravaged by war, has its visually striking surface marred by flaws, prompting us to ponder more... For example, how old is this easily destroyed chapel? How many stories have unfolded in this shattered square? Why are beautiful things always so fleeting? It's regrettable, it's poignant, but it's precisely this that makes us contemplate what lies hidden beneath the surface... How ironic."

"Perhaps this is ironic, or perhaps it's the inevitable law of things. Remembrance, remembrance, and mourning are all actions that enhance its value. Often, things that are broken are more valuable than when they were intact, aren't they?"

"It's like..." I turned to look at her, "Your complicated relationship with Blood Fiend, that's both adversarial and friendly?"

She looked at me, a bright smile on her face, "You really dare to say that, young lady."

"I'm twenty?"

"I'm over two hundred years old."

I thought you would be more concerned about your age.

"Why fear those empty numbers? Besides, Blood Fiend is about my age."

"You can't stop talking about that girl, can you? Just like you said before? After her death, your ill-fated relationship with her became all the more precious, so precious that you see your duel with her as destiny..."

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I gradually closed the distance between us until it was almost zero. I could feel her warm, fragrant breath on my face, and her deep blue eyes were so captivating. She was indeed an unparalleled beauty, and even more so, someone who knew how to appreciate beauty.

"You'll spend countless days and nights cursing her as a coward, using every means to search for her, desperately recalling every minute of your contact with her, and regretting to death all the things you didn't do in the past... But that's all for now, because—"

"--Because she finally stood before me again, the fragrance of her blood conveyed her presence to me... Behold this otherworldly beauty, behold this body that embodies countless charms, behold this indifferent gaze that seems unconcerned with all worldly matters, truly, how moving it is..."

The hand that stroked my cheek trembled slightly; immense emotion surged within its words. Was I affected by it? A strange feeling also welled up within me.

"I'm back, Winsani."

Her eyes widened instantly, then she revealed a captivating smile that left even me mesmerized, a smile that went straight to my soul.

"Yes, welcome back, Warrensding. Come on—"

She laughed and stepped back, creating three steps of distance between herself and the fan, then snapped it open.

"--Let's continue that unfinished tea party from long ago! The duel has already begun!"