Chapter 78: Review of

This feather was originally blood-red.

Su Mian was stunned for a long time before picking it up. The photo frame reflected her moist pupils and tightly pursed lips.

She pulled up a stiff smile. She didn't do this expression often, which made it look somewhat stiff and funny.

But she still wanted to laugh, laughing until her nose was sour, laughing until tears fell plop, plop.

She knew Si Shi was watching, but she didn't deliberately restrain her expression.

Su Mian knew he liked to see her smile, in every sense, as a return gift for the feather.

"Hey?! Evelyn, you haven't been at the celebration banquet. Is your body still uncomfortable?"

The players who were about to leave the palace discovered Su Mian in the garden and rushed over. Su Mian hurriedly wiped away her tears, pretending nothing had happened.

"I'm fine, I just don't like crowded places."

Adele nodded with a smile and pulled her arm, "Tiffany went to apologize to you just now. Why haven't I seen her?"

Bruce: "I don't know. I saw her come back in less than a few minutes, and her face was suspiciously red."

"Ah... did you bump into something? Forget it, forget it, none of it matters anymore."

Adele waved her hand. Duncan rushed over and hugged Charlie and Adrian's shoulders.

"The Governor is going to award you medals. When are you going to receive them? Great heroes~"

Charlie slapped him away in disgust, "Got it, got it. Don't you have one too?"

"Mine doesn't have the gold content of yours. I can brag about it in the game for a long time, just say I became a savior of a medieval instance, hahaha."

Adrian smiled speechlessly and looked at Su Mian.

"Did you receive your medal? Saintess?"

Su Mian sighed, a bit dumbfounded by this title, but in the end, she just shook her head. "No need."

She hid the photo frame in her sleeve.

"I already have one."

(Instance 3 End)

—The review of this world is unfolded from Cecily's perspective.

My name is Cecily. I am not a hero, just a failed idealist, a clumsy redeemer.

My story is full of loopholes, hesitation, and unfinished periods.

I was once the daughter of the Lord of Talen, and later became the Saintess of the Weibens city-state.

Talen and Weibens have been at war for many years. Weibens has seized countless of our territories and taken away the lives of countless people of our race.

Fighting year after year, retreating year after year. I don't understand what kind of supreme glory victory in war brings; I only know that the people and the land bear unbearable sins.

Coupled with the outbreak of the plague, the plague of rotten fever reached out like the devil's claws toward the already barren border.

My father used this to smuggle people infected with the plague and grain stained with black blood into Weibens.

The appearance of the border villagers dying is now repeating in the town of Weibens.

I couldn't sleep all night, unable to believe that my father wanted to use such means to build merit. The war was endless, and life and death could not breathe.

Someone has to reach out and stop it. Maybe that person is me?

Just like that, I started my naive and ridiculous plan.

I learned the format of those edicts, forged a truce agreement, slipped into my father's room at night, and used his fingerprint and seal.

I told my father I wanted to study elsewhere, but actually used a stolen seal and a forged pass to mix with the pilgrims and drift across the ocean.

I helped with bandaging those ulcerated wounds at the local relief house, listening to the funeral bells ringing seven times a day, never asking for a penny.

The people of Weibens said I was an "angel of unknown origin."

Perhaps God saw my wish. After the old Saintess died, I inherited her position.

But just at this time, Sera and Oli, who had taken care of me since childhood, found me. I was shocked, but they didn't seem to have discovered the forged agreement, just saying that my father sent them to take care of me. I chose to believe them.

Later, I took the initiative to propose to the Bishop to participate in the purification rite at the Anvil Fortress together. I wanted the people of Weibens to know that the plague had nothing to do with any "dead infant legend."

When Bishop Cain called me into the study for the first time, I knew he had already seen through my identity.

His eyes were like the deep sea covered in fog, and beneath the calm was an unfathomable vortex.

But the Bishop said nothing and tacitly allowed my actions. On the night before the purification rite, due to nervousness and excitement, I ran to the riverside for a walk and happened to meet him.

I didn't expect him to talk to me. He asked: "If one day you leave, have you ever thought about who will inherit your position?"

I didn't understand at the time.

I thought he was asking me who should take over the duties of the Saintess.

Now that I think about it, he should have been asking me, if I died, who would stop the war, who would become that destined savior.

I couldn't answer him.

Because my mind was full of tomorrow's ceremony, full of the truce agreement in my arms that was stamped with my father's seal but could never be publicly presented as the daughter of the Lord of Talen.

I imagined it unfolding on the council table, imagined the shock that might appear on the faces of those arrogant nobles, even if it was just a trace.

But I never made it to that step.

The moment the giant rock fell, I thought of what that nun said to me.

"Are you afraid? You will be the next dead soul."

I thought I would be afraid, but no, there was only a deep regret, sweeping over my chest like a tide.

Regret that the agreement hadn't been sent out, regret that I couldn't see with my own eyes what the lavender fields of Mofangdu would look like in an era of peace.

Regret that I could never return to that hometown I betrayed but deeply loved.

What happened later was seen by the dead me wandering in the blurred sky.

That bold nun Evelyn suddenly found my secret room in the church and discovered my identity.

When she saw the realistic oil painting I had asked someone to paint, she seemed to understand, and I understood too.

It turned out that the falling of the giant rock was not God's punishment, but my father's order.

He had those two servants tamper with the mine, causing the originally smooth rock to become the prototype of a dead infant, which led to the boulder falling shortly after the horn sounded.

Sera even used a human skin mask to pretend to be me, just so the people of Talen would think I really just went abroad to study.

How ridiculous.

This bloody chess game came from my father's hands.

But fortunately, that nun named Evelyn, or demon, was really approaching the truth step by step.

She joined forces with Duke Hill to uncover the secret of the holy water and broke the rumor of the dead infant legend.

She rode the legendary Undying Horse and rushed toward the battlefield, shooting the parchment that was soaked in my despair and hope toward the ship that should have been the center of the slaughter.

Who will inherit my position?

I can finally answer now.

Countless people.

Everyone.

Everyone who longs for peace.

The plague has no nationality, and pain does not distinguish between camps.

We are all trapped in the same kind of fear.

Fear of each other, of the unknown, of losing what we love.

And the hatred born of fear is killing us all.

My story is over, but the truth has finally begun its journey.

Just like the projections in the mine of the Anvil Fortress, the light has never disappeared; it just needs to find the right angle to shine into where it should go.

My name is Cecily.

I have told lies, and I have sought the truth.

I died from a falling rock.

I live in all those who refuse to let hatred crush life.

—Cecily von Talen, the last thoughts before consciousness dissipated. ===== CHAPTER 79 =====