Extraordinary pedigree

PM 2:41.

in Iberia.

University of 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 sun shone 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 was relaxed and they seemed completely immersed in this peaceful and harmonious environment.

The surrounding scenery is picturesque, with ancient buildings bathed in sunlight. Occasionally, a gentle breeze blows through, 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 of Tristel leaving 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 beat faster, as if a swarm of butterflies were dancing in his chest.

In her absence, Grant could distract his thoughts with studies and friends, but the inner boat 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 is 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 and 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. Tristel is very beautiful, so she has no shortage of suitors. She is always surrounded by all kinds of attentive boys, and she treats her suitors with aloofness. Attitude also keeps the group around her at a certain number.

Grant's position 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 Tristes some money to please her sisters. At that time, their sisters would always cover their mouths and smile, look at themselves with distant eyes, and then approach each other and whisper. He whispered and pointed at himself.

He remembered that on a rainy day, he braved the heavy rain to give Trister an umbrella.

And 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 Tristes and walk in the rain together, but her sisters But he said: "We are all girls, why are you a boy so embarrassed to let us get wet in the rain?"

The rain soaked his shirt, and the cold water droplets slid down his trembling skin. Each 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. Under the rain curtain, he heard them say:

"Look, he looks like a dog."

He raised his head and looked at Triest, his wet hair hanging down, like the last curtain of dignity, temporarily covering up his unhappiness.

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 in exchange for a 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.

Trieste's friends responded with contemptuous ridicule to his kindness, but he always suffered in silence.

Perhaps, in Trieste's eyes, Grant's existence seemed 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 Tristel's unusually beautiful smile, he couldn't help but be stunned for a moment, then he shook his head and replied:

"..., no, it's nothing."

"You seem a little uncomfortable, are you really okay?"

Trieste's concerned voice sounded in Grant's ears again. He looked into Grant's beautiful eyes and said with a smile:

"It's okay, I'm really fine."

"That's good."

"Tristel..." Grant looked at Triste and hesitated to speak.

"What's wrong?" Triest turned her head and asked with a smile.

"Do you still remember your amnesia?" Grant finally asked the question, and after he said the 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 Tristel got together. It all goes 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 husk in the slumped chair she was sitting on.

Grant rushed her to the hospital anxiously, where 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 Tristel 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, faced with Trieste's silent body, Grant felt more connected than ever.

Finally, in a quiet early morning, Tristel's eyes suddenly opened.

When Trieste's eyes reopened, her family and doctors waited with bated breath to see her familiar smile and hear her gentle voice.

However, what they saw was a completely "stranger".

Tristel'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 clumsy, like that of 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 an unfamiliarity with human language, her broken words were extremely accurate.

Trieste has "amnesia", this is the doctor's conclusion.

When faced with the amnesiac Tristel, her parents would sometimes inadvertently stare at their "daughter" with extreme disgust and fear, as if Triste after amnesia was no longer their daughter, but her daughter. It was like a monster that had 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 by her side to accompany her.

Under Grant's meticulous supervision, Tristel gradually adapts to her new identity.

Her awkward and unfamiliar speech gradually became part of her new life.

Whenever she tried to express her thoughts, it was like an ancient scholar trying to communicate in modern language, her words mixed with strange ancient texts and incomprehensible expressions.

Her curiosity about the world around her seemed 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 an extraordinary desire.

Her eyes always shone with a strange light when she spoke of this knowledge.

Grant was both alienated 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.

Yet as Grant immersed himself in this new interaction, he also felt a deep conflict.

He began to doubt his feelings for Trieste - was he in love with her as a person, or was he just fascinated by her current unknown form?

And Tristel, is this Triste who was reborn after amnesia 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 didn't 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? "

Trieste asked him with a smile.

Her smile is like an early spring flower blooming in the morning light, bringing not only color but also vitality of life.

It's as if the spring breeze blows across the lake, causing waves of fresh ripples. The air around her 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 in black clerical uniform appeared.

He holds an umbrella in his right hand and a black book in his left hand.

He looked handsome, but his eyes revealed unfathomable indifference.

When he emerged, Grant found himself unable to move.

The pair of amber eyes simply looked at him, then shifted their gaze to "Tristel".

The black-robed man's eyes shone like amber, and his appearance seemed to tear open the boundary between reality and fantasy.

Grant and Trieste's eyes are drawn to him, and they find themselves in a dreamlike amber moonlight.

This scene is as illusory as a mirror, with the untouchable moon hanging high in the sky, and the air accompanied by a faint but persistent sound of dripping water, which seems to be whispering 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.

Snapped--

Like the sound of bubbles bursting, the inhuman existence seemed to be directly wiped out from this world.

The cold blood splashed on Grant's face. He witnessed all this, but he could not move. He could only watch Tristel turn into a red flower in the air. The flower bloomed and floated in the air, and finally was stained in the air. 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 clerical 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 sunlight, and Trieste had disappeared.

Looking at the blood and mud on the ground, he recalled the shocking scene just now.

Grant finally couldn't bear it anymore and collapsed.

"No..., this is not true... why..."

Grant felt his legs lose strength, and a wave of dizziness hit him. He fell to his knees weakly, holding his hair tightly with his hands, as if this could suppress the pain in his 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 convulse 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.

"vomit------"

A silent mixture of tears and snot flowed down Grant's pale cheeks.

His eyes were empty and out of focus, as if his soul had dissipated with Tristel in that weird illusion. His heart was full of confusion and fear, and every memory was like a piece of sharp glass, falling in his eyes. flashed through my mind, leaving a wound 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--

Ripples appeared in the space again, and a group of fully-armed legendary hunters from the [Hall of Hunting] appeared here. When they looked at Grant, who was kneeling on the ground, crying and having a mental breakdown, their faces became extremely ugly.

"Heaven!!!"

"These damn bastards!!!"

Didi didi——

The warning from the Academy of Sciences rang out on my wrist again. At this moment, no fewer than a thousand "massacres" were occurring simultaneously throughout Iberia.

"Is this 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 was like a sleeping volcano suddenly awakening. It was a deep anger, as if being driven by ruthless The waves stirred up by the storm were turbulent 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 was like a roar trapped in the chest, and every breath was full of struggle and pain.

Stimulated 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 a desire to retaliate against those who have wronged Iberia.

In the distant deep space of ether, the four monarchs cast their playful eyes.