Chapter 764
I Will Be With You
Although Eivass in Isabel’s mouth sounded like he was being spoken of in the third person… Alistair could feel the overwhelming emotion within.
Isabel continued, “Before I truly fell in love with him… I felt reverence, dependence, and trust towards him. Even though we were the same age, I felt the love and reliability of an elder.”
“And then, curiosity followed… I was extremely curious at the time—is this truly the complete him? Is he really this young? Is this some kind of performance? Or perhaps, beneath that layer of omniscient, divine radiance, does he still possess hideous flesh and blood that cannot be spoken of?”
After that uncontainable curiosity, Isabel gradually felt Eivass’s gentleness and reliability.
He was like an excellent commander, a wise monarch, or a loving grandfather, a doting older brother… At first, Isabel did not feel love. Because at that time, Eivass was too far, too far away from her.
“But amidst these complex emotions, I gradually peeled away Eivass’s soul. And to my surprise… I captured something deep within his heart.”
—It was a trace of “Eivass’s humanity.”
“That was Eivass’s inner melancholy, timidity, inferiority, and panic. He never showed these things outwardly, only releasing a little when Eivass completely relaxed in front of me, before quickly retracting it. It was as if he was afraid of me discovering this secret… But what I didn’t tell him was that I had already sensed it, but didn’t say anything because I cared about his self-esteem.”
“You must know… The Path of Beauty is the path that is most sensitive to the perception of the human heart.”
Isabel whispered softly in Alistair’s ear, “Actually… this is the real reason I fell in love with him.”
Her feelings for Eivass changed from “liking” to “love” for two reasons.
When she had just ascended the throne and was at the peak of her mental exhaustion, Eivass was the first person she thought of. Only in his embrace could Her Majesty the Queen feel safe enough to cry.
At that moment, she knew she could never leave Eivass.
Although Isabel had been a crybaby since childhood, she had never cried in front of others.
The more she was looked down upon by others as a child, the stronger and almost stubbornly proud her self-esteem became—
However, people cannot truly fall in love with gods.
A person’s reverence for an idol is merely a false love. It is love for the perfect person within one’s own heart, but it never points to the other person’s true soul.
Because of this, Isabel’s pride made it impossible for her to accept love that was one-sided—If Eivass loved her selflessly, without expecting any reward or pursuit from her side, then she could not accept this kind of equal love like “God loves the world.” Because she could not accept that she was meaningless in this relationship.
“…Fortunately,” Isabel leaned even closer to Alistair’s ear and whispered, “when I was crying with my head on his chest, I heard his heart weeping silently too.”
At her moment of complete breakdown, Eivass also showed a momentary, even unexpressed, vulnerability in front of her… At that instant, she realized that they could indeed be a couple supporting each other to the end, rather than just lovers with “liking” and “attachment.”
“Let me guess.”
She whispered, “What Lord Eivass said at that time… ‘So, don’t cry.’
“You were also saying it to yourself, weren’t you?”
At that moment… in that instant, the shell of the glorious idol named “Eivass” suddenly cracked.
What embraced her then was not her omnipotent and loyal minister, but a young boy who was equally melancholic and uneasy.
Just like Eivass’s intense reaction when he received the hand-knitted sweater from his grandmother—it was more than any of the carefully painted magic paintings she had given Eivass. Isabel had been a little jealous at the time, but only then did she truly understand everything.
Eivass was not flawless; he just hid all his wounds and stood strong alone.
Even in front of her, he would never admit or accept his vulnerability… but her tears could melt the ice in his heart.
“A person who wants to laugh but cannot will want to see others laugh; similarly, a person who wants to cry but cannot will want to see others cry… Therefore, a person who has deeply experienced sorrow will either be a reckless tyrant or a benevolent physician who heals the soul.”
Isabel said softly.
She had received the “all-rounder” education of the Path of Beauty. Therefore, she knew that the purpose of people watching tragedies was to release fear, satisfy pity, incite indignation, and strengthen resolve…
It was not fine wine, but bitter medicine—a decoction to cure numb hearts.
It was after that that Eivass gradually began to show a less perfect side. He gradually let down his guard, like a snail slowly extending its shell, exposing his fragile yet deadly softness to Isabel.
And now, with Eivass’s separation… his complex inner self was also dismembered and laid bare.
Just as anatomical specimens display different organs, Isabel could more clearly read Eivass’s true inner self from Alistair.
Once that nobility of self-dedication for a higher purpose was lost, the humanity on Alistair appeared so clear.
“Don’t be afraid.”
Isabel murmured softly, embracing the prematurely young and small Alistair in front of her like a gentle mother, conveying her words to Eivass’s most vulnerable part. “Cry, my girl. I will be with you.”
These were the words Eivass had once said to Isabel… similar, yet opposite.
Alistair did not turn back, nor did she make a sound.
When Isabel was halfway through her speech, her eyes had become a little moist.
It was like watching a sad movie, or like the long-pent-up grievances and fears finally having an outlet—when Alistair blinked gently again, a line of tears slowly fell.
Suddenly, the black-haired girl closed her eyes, turned her head, and snuggled into Isabel’s embrace.
“I… I lied…”
Alistair sobbed softly, “I don’t want to disappear… I don’t want to be forgotten…”
After the first sob, her crying gradually intensified.
This was something the manly Eivass would never do—even if his emotions finally broke down one day, he would only curl up in a corner and drink alone, even though he couldn’t really drink.
All he could do was to soothe himself with the pain of self-harm, like a knife wound deep in his throat, feeling a piercing pain every time he swallowed bitter water. And in this way, he would no longer taste bitterness.
Because if he fell, this World would be destroyed.
Eivass had no room to give up—this World had no “Players” who could solve all disasters and defeat any powerful enemy. The only one he could rely on was himself. He didn’t need to do anything… he just needed to watch, and eventually, everything would lead to ruin.
One version of disaster after another. One incredibly powerful BOSS after another. The games of gods, the destinies of pawns, and another future that was destined for destruction… Everything was piled onto one person.
A mortal, yet bearing such a heavy fate.
Eivass had to be strong—until the very end, to pave a new path for the entire World.
He was never afraid of sacrifice. He was only worried that after his premature sacrifice, the ensuing remaining crises would still destroy the World.
Of course, he had his own desires, his own mortal desires. He also wanted to enjoy life, he wanted to study peacefully on campus, he wanted to play with Isabel in the Royal Palace, he wanted to enjoy the wealth and honor of this life as a rich man, he wanted to become an admirable person and help everyone he wanted to help.
But he could not.
“The future” was like a curse, pushing him away from every place where he had developed feelings and towards every scene where disasters would occur. Sometimes he wanted to tell others about the future he carried…
But in this World, there were no absolute secrets anywhere. Whether in the Dream Realm or the Material Realm, as long as words were spoken or written, there would certainly be many people and gods who could find out, and the future would inevitably twist in a direction Eivass could not predict.
So Eivass had to be strong.
He had a reason to keep moving forward.
…But Alistair was different.
Her body was that of a complete little girl, not even an adult. A little more pain would make her cry; her race was the Child of the Moon, known for their uncontrollable emotions; she was less than a month old, with a lifespan of less than half a year; her name was not Eivass, but Alistair…
—In this case, it would be alright even if she couldn’t help but cry out, right?
“Cry… it’s fine to cry. You’re already drunk… how strong it is to only cry in dreams.”
Isabel whispered gently, “Alistair… can I call you Ale?
“How about this, Ale. I swear… no matter what, if Eivass and I have a child, boy or girl… the first child, I will name her Alistair. I will love Alistair in this life as I love myself, until the end of my life.
“With me here, you will not be forgotten. And I believe Eivass will not let you disappear completely either. Because he would rather die himself than harm someone who loves him… This gentleness, you both share.”
Isabel gently patted Alistair’s back, holding the girl, who was so light that she could easily lift her, in her arms.
This girl, dangerous enough to single-handedly kill extremely dangerous demons, was now like a cold-sensitive cat, instinctively curling up in Isabel’s embrace.
She felt the weight of the girl’s body, and the brittle spirit within, even more fragile than her body—what kind of weight had she borne to leave Eivass’s glorious and sacred soul so scarred?
At this moment, Isabel felt with extreme depth and clarity the loneliness, pain, sorrow, and fear that Eivass had hidden.
…It was like encountering a crisis where one wrong step would destroy the World, yet he had to resolve it personally without being able to confide in anyone.
Isabel vaguely sensed where Eivass’s pressure lay.
She knew she could not help Eivass save the World. She was already doing her best just to handle Avalon’s many issues, drenched in sweat.
But she could save Eivass, and now there was Alistair.
All the state affairs piling up in Avalon, all the unspoken words of love accumulated in her heart, could now be set aside.
The most important thing was to heal this big child’s long-damaged soul.
“Cry… I love you.”
Isabel closed her eyes slightly, her emerald-like pupils gazing at Alistair with compassion.
At this moment, she deeply felt the beauty of “dedication,” like an actor gradually getting into character… She gradually completely understood Eivass’s thoughts.
Holding Alistair now, it was as if Eivass was holding his own clone.
If she were to leave this dream again, she was confident she could create a mask for Eivass.
And Alistair—after her sobs, under the illumination of that warm radiance, her crying gradually intensified, turning into wails.
Her crying turned into shouting, becoming hysterical, even breaking her voice, to the point of almost vomiting.
In the end, there was no longer the delicate sound of sobbing, but more like a rational, instinctive roar, venting the fear of life and death.
—And this was just like the first cry of an infant at birth, announcing the true birth of a life.
(End of this chapter)
