The master comes down the mountain: I don’t want to be a son-in-law

"Joyce!"

Agatha simply couldn't believe her eyes.

She had clearly inserted the dagger into Joyce's heart and watched him die. Even if his body became stronger through practice and the knife failed to kill him, there were still dozens of blood-sucking evil spirits there. How did he escape from these demons?

What made Agatha even more incredible was the pair of wings on Joyce's body.

The holy feather is so familiar, exactly the same as the one on Sariel. The soft light is as beautiful as moonlight.

"Joyce, how come you have wings like these?"

"Thank you." Joyce slowly approached. The dagger was still stuck in his chest, but in the holy light, the dagger became crystal clear, like an extra rib on his chest.

"Is Sariel...really...dead?" Agatha asked.

"Yes," Joyce said.

Agatha lowered her head, knowing that Joyce would never lie, especially in front of her.

The two golden knights raised their swords, wondering whether they should continue to attack.

Chen Wenxue pushed his eyes with his left hand, and hid his right hand behind his back. His fist was shining like a light bulb.

"Sariel..." Agatha's voice was filled with sadness, "How did my teacher die? Did you kill her?"

"No, it's God," Joyce said.

"God?" Agatha was confused, "How is that possible? She is an angel, a messenger serving the gods!"

"She is not worthy!" Joyce in the light was so holy, even his voice was different from before, calm and full of power, "Ignorant people are not worthy of serving gods, let alone being angels who came to the world, so gods punished her and deprived her of her of angel wings.”

Chen Wenxu almost wanted to laugh. Joyce said exactly what he said.

But then I thought about it, how could this not be true?

Agatha's face was full of shock, she didn't believe this was true.

She followed Sariel regardless of everything, because the holy light and the power close to the gods made her so obsessed with it.

Sariel was her guide on the holy path, transforming her from an ordinary believer into an angel.

She regarded Sariel as a teacher and a saint.

If what Joyce said is true, it means that everything in the past is an illusion, and Sariel lied to her, or as Joyce said, she is ignorant, and serving the gods is her wishful thinking.

But she knew Joyce wouldn't lie to her, so it seemed impossible that it was all fake.

"Joyce!" Agatha raised her head and walked slowly towards her former lover, her eyes full of tenderness, "I didn't expect that you would become the new angel! I am so happy for you!"

"In the past, what stood between us was your unsteady belief. I thought you would be ordinary all your life, unable to become a true saint, and farther and farther away from God. Now, you have become a real servant before me. God's man. Joyce, I'm so happy! This way our love can be restored!"

Agatha walked into Joyce's halo and felt that she became holy in the light.

Because the person in front of her was not only an angel, but also her lover, who was closer to her than Sariel. The energy of the holy light, because of love, can act on her more directly.

The fire of love that had been dormant for many years was rekindled in her heart. She longed for Joyce and for them to move toward the light together, to become the happiest couple in the world under the gaze of God, and to complete divine joy in the glory of God.

Agatha opened her arms to hug Joyce.

A dagger lay between their chests.

It was her own hand that had been planted in Joyce's heart.

She reached out and grasped the handle of the knife, wanting to pull out the thing that hindered their intimacy and throw it away.

But the dagger had already integrated with Joyce, becoming a bone growing in his heart, harder and stronger than his ribs.

"It cannot be removed, Agatha, this is the wound of death, the bone of destruction. Our love died when it pierced my heart, and so did the Joyce of the past."

Joyce's voice was as calm as water in a deep well.

"No! Joyce!" Agatha was full of pain and regret, tears streaming from her eyes and flowing down her beautiful cheeks, "You love me! You said that our love will last forever and will last until death. !”

"Yes, I said it, but I am dead. Would you love a dead person?"

"No, you are not dead! You will not die! You have the Holy Feather, you are God's servant! You still have my love! Those who have love will not die!"

"I died because I loved you. Agatha, I kept my promise. Dead love cannot be resurrected, just like dead people."

"Joyce, stop lying to me! You are obviously not dead, you are obviously alive, are you angry with me? I know I was wrong, I shouldn't have hurt you! I apologize to you, I'm sorry, Joyce !”

Agatha's tears fell like broken pearls.

"Joyce, tell me, what do you need me to do? I am willing to give everything for you, melt your cold heart, and let our love come back. As long as I can start over, I can do anything you ask me to do!"

"Agatha..." Joyce called her name softly.

Agatha burst into laughter. She knew that Joyce had softened and moved. She remembered this feeling. Long, long ago, when they first started falling in love, Joyce was like this, weak and cute.

Every time they quarreled, as long as Agatha cried, Joyce would be at a loss, would surrender, and would obey her in everything.

"Joyce, let's start over, okay?" Agatha looked at Joyce pitifully.

Joyce stood there, seemingly still thinking. The light on his body was dimming, and the wings flickered on and off, as if they were about to disappear.

"Agatha..." Joyce called out and opened her arms.

Agatha responded with joy, opened her arms, and rushed forward.

The two hugged each other tightly, just like when they fell in love for the first time.

However, the excitement on Agatha's face quickly turned to pain. She felt severe pain in her chest, and then she remembered that Joyce had a steel-bone dagger stuck in his chest.

She desperately tried to push Joyce away.

But Joyce hugged her so tightly, and the wings behind her were rolled back, like two other hands, protecting Agatha so that she could not struggle at all.

"Joyce..."

Agatha was suffocated by pain, and slowly closed her eyes in her last prayer.

Joyce still held her in his arms for a long time, refusing to let go.

The first pair of wings emitted light, covering the two people and becoming a ball of bright light.

When the light gradually went out, there was no sign of Agatha in front of Joyce.

The wings were retracted behind him, and a trace of bright red blood hung on the ribs turned into daggers on his chest.

The blood disappeared into the bones, and the ribs shrank into the body, leaving an eternal scar on the chest.