Can the sadness that magic cannot take away be offset by love?

When Iris woke up, the room was dark and dark, and the dark sky could be seen through the gaps in the tightly drawn curtains.

What was incompatible with the environment was the very conspicuous white light opposite her.

That was the screen light of Zhiwang. The person in front of the screen saw her movement and raised his eyelids. Some of the scrawled and low-tied hair was hanging on the armrest of the chair, and some was scattered behind him.

This scene seemed familiar.

Iris was reluctant to admit that the last time she saw a similar scene was after she almost killed herself and was saved by Ernest who came over.

She sat up wrapped in quilt, leaned against the head of the bed, and looked at her surroundings for a while.

It was like a hotel, different from the one she stayed in before, but the one she stayed in before was obviously no longer occupied. As for the loss of the hotel - this must be thanked to the Ramirez family for taking care of her - oh no, them - again and again.

The cushions at the head of the bed were soft, just right for her body shape, and the light was dark. She was so comfortable that she almost closed her eyes and fell asleep again. After a yawn, she opened her eyes again, and faint flames lined up in front of her. A row.

Ecilia:?

She looked at Ernest seriously and doubtfully, but she saw him saying with trepidation:

"I'm thinking that I can't force you to do something you don't want to do. It doesn't conflict with my simple desire to torture you. I'm not asking you to agree to anything."

What a genius he was, thought Aecilia.

"I don't suggest you do this," she said with a smile, "What if I misunderstand that you are threatening me?"

"What did I threaten you with? I didn't ask for anything."

He was still typing and replying to the message, and took some time out of his busy schedule to ask her a question.

"If you don't mention it now, what if you mention it later? I will feel that your behavior today is a warning to me in advance——"

Ernest interrupted her:

"Stop, don't think about it."

"See, you admit it yourself."

Aecilia hissed as she took off the bandage on her hand and complained:

"It's long past time to change the dressing."

Ernest didn't even raise his eyelids this time:

"As long as you don't die, I haven't settled the debt with you yet."

Aecilia sneered:

"You dare to settle with me?"

The flamboyant temperament revealed in her words was something she had never seen before, or had never shown in front of others.

This is emboldened.

Ernest thought.

"I don't dare. You died too early and I can't handle it."

His tone was calm, and his words hit the point directly. His fingers were always busy on the smart network screen.

Aecilia turned sideways to reach for the potion on the bedside table and accidentally pulled the wound. Her vision went dark, and then she heard someone speaking sarcastically in her ear:

"Some people seem to forget that they are wizards."

Aecilia opened her eyelids and directed the potion bottle to fly over, calm and easy-going:

"It is understandable that a dying man has a poor memory."

Ernest didn't want to comment on this, but Aecilia didn't want to make it easy for him:

"Move your fire, now it cannot shine on my wound."

Ernest started a video conference, and while providing free light bulbs as she wished, she said:

"I have a meeting later, so don't cross the boundary of the soundproofing spell."

Aecilia somewhat questioned his mental state:

"Do you think I can move now? Wait, have you never rested?"

As she spoke, her eyes lit up.

Ernest raised his eyelids and then looked down at Zhiwang. The meeting began and he closed his mouth.

The girl lay back happily and missed the man's raised lips that were blocked by the screen.

While watching his meeting, Aecilia gradually felt that something was wrong.

She moved her fingers, and an ancient-looking smart network appeared in front of her. She looked at the date and time, and suddenly realized.

Haven't eaten anything for a day.

She looked around again, and there wasn't even a glass of water here. Ernest fulfilled his attitude of "as long as she doesn't die" towards her.

She started browsing the food delivery app, hesitating between millet porridge and preserved egg and lean meat porridge. After a while, she felt something tugged on her clothes.

A shivering elf in a delivery boy's uniform held a bowl of tightly packed white porridge in front of her.

She took the porridge and watched as the elf hurriedly passed through the terrifying protective shield surrounding the room, and then flew out of the afterimage to escape.

Aecilia looked up at him and down at the porridge.

... Tasteless white porridge is worse than millet porridge and preserved egg and lean meat porridge.

But now that everything is in her hands...

She scraped all the porridge up to the edge of the bowl with a spoon. Ernest asked her to use the current smart network to add him as a friend, and then sent her the payment record for buying white porridge.

"Have you considered that we may not believe your words. The ceremony was indeed successful, but you can't prove that you gave yourself the order you said, because only you know this. That order is related to your life , if something goes wrong, you can’t even save yourself, so you may not be so ruthless.”

"Voluntary" is too subjective, because the conclusions formed in people's minds may be very different from the facts, even if they are threatened by her not to force her to do anything, if there are certain facts that cause her to have a misunderstanding of being forced , that may still lead to bad results——

In other words, it does not matter whether she is "involuntary" in fact, what is important is whether she feels that she is "involuntary".

Such conditions are unreasonable and overbearing, but they are the only way to deal with those who are good at exploring loopholes in the rules.

Aecilia quickly transferred the money to him and said:

"Suppose what I say is true. This command is very useful. I could have chosen it, right? And suppose what I say is false. What can you use to prove it? Take my life?"

They couldn't afford to bet on their own dignity, and they couldn't afford to bet on her life either.

Ernest just smiled:

"I'm curious if you have been greedy and set other orders."

"If I can survive later, I will satisfy your curiosity."

she said casually.

"Your information couldn't be found at all at the beginning. It suddenly appeared some time ago. Did you release it deliberately?"

He had already guessed it, and Aecilia was too lazy to make it up any more.

"Correct."

"Doing so many things just to numb me?"

"Yes. If you think you understand me, you will naturally be less wary of me."

"Who taught you these things?"

Aecilia looked him in the eyes and said:

"You."

Ernest does not admit:

"I haven't taught you anything. You knew it before you met me."

Ethelia just smiled.

"The ritual of using magic breath instead of blood - is this a lie?"

he asked studiously.

Aecilia's eyes lingered on the quilt not far away for a moment, and then she explained carefully and considerately:

"What you said is not accurate. If what you want to say is that 'magical breath replaces blood and serves to anchor your identity' - this ritual is not aimed at you. It is enough to anchor your identity - originally Magic aura and blood both have this effect, and there is no question of which one can replace the other. I remember a senior student posted this paper.

"If what you are saying is that 'magical breath replaces blood and allows the ritual to directly affect you', that is impossible. The essence is that the concentration of mage information contained in the breath that is dissipated cannot be as high as that of blood. The concentration If it is insufficient, it will be impossible to perform a ritual with such a high concentration requirement.

"So, blood can do everything that magic breath can do, but there are some things that blood can do that magic breath can't do - it's a fallacy that magic breath can replace blood.

"You see, magical breath cannot replace blood as the medium for the curse to directly affect people."

The mage can easily identify his own blood, hair, etc.

So when the drop of well-preserved blood in the sealed small jar appeared in Ernest's sight, his whole body's temperament sank.

He instantly determined the time when this drop of blood was obtained by her.

The reason was simple. He had been hurt in front of her only a handful of times, and the only time she could get up close to him was when they met for the second time.

It was when... he used the pocket watch to test out that there was a problem with her memory, tortured her to ask her why, and then she suddenly stabbed her and caused bleeding.

As for the specific time, he didn't know, and it didn't matter.

He witnessed the magician in front of him using this drop of blood to place a curse on him on the spot.

This has nothing to do with teaching demonstration. Her purpose is single and pure.

"..."

Ernest fell silent, and Aecilia said nothing, staring at his face without blinking, trying to find the emotions he might reveal.

"What did you do?" He said slowly, "I don't have any special feelings."

The magician flicked the gray hair on his forehead:

"How big a curse do you think a small drop of blood can be used on? I won't tell you, just give up."

Then, she took out a few strands of silver-white hair that were familiar to both of them, threw them into the small black evil curse circle, and watched them burn up.

"..."

Ernest made no further comment.

She treated everyone equally, so what else could he have to say?

The origin of Olivia's hair is simpler. She and Ethelia often stay together, so it is not surprising at all that a small amount of hair was taken away.

"If you don't sleep for three days, it's like a different person."

Aecilia, who had slept soundly, made what she considered an objective evaluation.

He didn't even want to explain to her that he didn't care about the curse because he knew that such a small amount of blood could do nothing - at best, it would be like cutting off a hair and being hit by a fallen leaf ten centimeters from the top of the head.

But he didn't expect that there was another basis for Ecilia's evaluation.

"From a dead person to a normal person."

Ernest listened calmly to her words.

He knew what he had exposed.