Chapter 187: The Lover

Chapter 187: The Lover

The moment Aiziq Grieger crossed the threshold, the ancient stone pillars seemed to lean inward, like wounded soldiers bowing to a general they had long forgotten. The darkness that had fled from his presence now lurked in the deepest crevices of the ruins, watching with hollow eyes.

Mo Fei followed two paces behind the Angel, his boots crunching softly against the grey soil. The crimson stitches on his arm had suddenly stopped throbbing. The cosmic gaze that should have been up to him due to the spiritual infection of the city had averted its gaze from him.

The surrounding spiritual presence of the City was suppressed in the Angel’s presence.

Mo Fei stared at the back of Aiziq. ’I wasn’t wrong when I thought he’d suppress the lingering malice... but I wasn’t certain that he’d suppress it to its absolute limit.’

They walked deeper into the dead metropolis. The buildings grew taller and more elaborate. The pathway itself created a symbol that reached toward different broken houses. Columns of white marble gave way to structures carved from black basalt, their surfaces etched with scenes of a figure standing in the center of a crowd; his face was obscured. Statues lined the main avenue, their faces worn smooth by centuries of wind that no longer blew. Some were standing still. Others had arms raised to the sky, frozen in the middle of a plea while looking at the figure.

Mo Fei’s Apprentice’s Eyes flickered involuntarily. For a moment, he saw the city as it had been, with thousands of people walking these streets, their spiritual threads bright and tangled, their voices a chorus of life. Then the vision collapsed, and he saw only dust.

’Another divination... something had happened previously.’

Aiziq stopped. He tilted his head slightly and looked back at him. "Do you feel that presence?"

"No?" Mo Fei’s heart hammered against his ribs. ’If he could feel a presence that was completely out of my vision, then there should be something hidden.’

A long silence stretched between them. "I decided to come here because of one more reason... there was a strange grave that brought me here. I remember Ciradyl, because it was under the control of Andronicus the Great." He resumed walking, his linen robe trailing through the dust. "The City of Light was built by him, yes... I once lived here."

Aiziq’s words hung in the dead air, carrying a heavy resonance that sent a cold shiver straight down Mo Fei’s spine.

Before Mo Fei could parse the historical implications, his spiritual intuition erupted.

The basalt statues lining the avenue began to make a melodic hum. The ambient purple luminescence bleeding from the walls instantly turned into a brilliant, blinding golden hue.

From the shadows, a familiar feeling emerged that directly called the Angel. Aiziq pressed his lips together as warmth began to curl around his whole body. He took a trembling step forward, then ran toward the presence.

Seeing the sudden sprint, Mo Fei followed him, running behind him as he tried to catch up.

Aiziq entered a large mansion that seemed to be a royal house of the city.

The heavy thud of his spectral boots hit the grey soil simultaneously. Finally, with one last thud, he stopped near the house. His hand pressed against the broken pillar as suddenly, the same face of the woman appeared.

He raised his right hand, his long, weathered fingers curling slightly as if plucking an invisible string in the air.

The burning golden light violently flickered, turning into a pale green before extinguishing entirely. With that, he quietly stepped inside the house and gestured for Mo Fei to follow.

Seeing the calm Death Angel almost lose his composure, Mo Fei’s own heart raced with a sudden jarring ache as if there was something unusual scattered around the environment.

Inside, the house was a beautiful estate that once served as a comfortable place for a royal lady. The vines had curled around the stairs, and the broken chandelier established its current situation.

Aiziq walked with slow, rhythmic steps. Following his instincts, he looked around to find an underground resting place.

His gaze lay on a bookshelf where ancient novels and bibles rested. Their pages were already torn apart, covering them with dust. He quickly slid the shelf, pushing the wooden item away.

Behind it, a path toward the underground opened up.

He descended downward through pure instincts as suddenly a voice called out to him. "Mr. Aiziq..."

Then there was another one that closely spoke with a deep intimacy, even though Mo Fei could hear no voice, and nor there was a voice in a true sense. He was hearing a spiritual resonance of a dead spirit that spoke. "My Love."

Beneath the dark room was a ruin was a beautiful place for the tombs to rest, they slowly walked further and reached toward the entrance of a personal graveyard.

In the center of the room, covered in vines, rested a grave. It was carved from the smoothest white marble, its surface untouched by the passage of time. Unlike the surrounding ruins, not a single crack marred its surface. Even the vines that had swallowed the rest of the underground chamber stopped several inches away, as though something beneath the stone had forbidden them from approaching.

Aiziq stood before it without moving. For the first time since Mo Fei had met him, the Angel of Death appeared utterly defenseless. He reached out his trembling fingers toward it and gripped the top.

"Who is buried here?" Mo Fei asked quietly.

Aiziq lowered himself onto one knee. His blindfold concealed his eyes, but the golden light beneath the linen lit up, only to get dimmed the very next second. A faint warmth brushed against his palm as he slowly opened the grave.

"You’ve finally returned."

Aiziq opened the grave and looked inside. A woman’s skeleton lay preserved, but there was no head.

Suddenly, a faint memory of the person came again. That time, she wore a pale-yellow dress, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. A cluster of pomegranate blossoms rested against her chest. Her features were blurred, as though the world itself had forgotten how to remember her face.

Yet Aiziq recognized her even if he didn’t know her name. He couldn’t recall where they had met, nor why the sight of her filled his chest with an unbearable emptiness.

His lips parted as he muttered. "I see, so that is what I have lost..."

The woman’s blurred face smiled, a warm curl that made the bright sun surrender against it... it was a respect to compare that to the sun, who wasn’t even close to that small, heart-melting grin.

Aiziq found himself sitting under a tree in that same field of lilies. The woman approached him and sat beside him, her delicate hand holding a bucket full of pomegranate as she pulled one.

He found himself tasting the fruit; his tongue felt the taste... it wasn’t great; it was not tasty, yet her hands that gave him the fruit made it the most delicious fruit of mankind... a taste that was directly woven with love and care. Even oranges, mangoes, strawberries, or even the most delectable fruits were dull compared to that tasteless, unripe pomegranate.

In her second hand, she held a crown of flowers, softly placing it over a smiling Aiziq who pulled her in a warm hug.

The vision expanded, washing over the underground chamber like a quiet tide. From Mo Fei’s perspective, the pale-yellow dress of the illusionary woman seemed to bleed into the physical reality, casting a soft, golden glow upon the headless skeleton.

The terrifying, cold authority of the Death that normally cloaked Aiziq Grieger had completely dissolved, replaced by a profound silence.

Aiziq reached out, his weathered fingers trembling as they passed through the barrier of time and illusion. His hand met hers. There was no physical contact, yet a visible ripple spread through the spirituality of the room.

The woman’s blurred face tilted upward. "You are late, my traveler."

Aiziq couldn’t speak anymore. A single tear slipped from beneath his linen blindfold. It fell onto the smoothest white marble of the grave, instantly evaporating into a mist of tiny, glowing white feathers.

At that moment, his fractured memories, the countless lifetimes of wandering, the agonizing cycles of forgetting his own name, and the heavy, bloody history of the previous epochs, seemed to find a temporary anchor. In this moment, he wasn’t a terrifying Death Angel, nor was he the empty shell searching for his past. In this isolated corner of a ruined world, he was simply a man who had finally walked across the river of death to find the one who had waited for him for over a thousand years.

Mo Fei stood by the entrance of the personal graveyard, his breath completely caught in his throat. Through his Apprentice’s Eyes, he could see that the tangled, chaotic spiritual threads of the dead metropolis had suddenly straightened. They were all gently converging toward the grave, humming a reverent eulogy.

It was a manifestation of love so pure and powerful that it suppressed the madness inherent in the ingredients of the city itself.

The woman slowly placed the silver ring into Aiziq’s palm. As his fingers closed around the illusionary metal, her figure began to break down into spots of pale-yellow light, like fireflies dispersing in the dawn.

The golden light surrounding Aiziq abruptly collapsed. Although ’He’ remained kneeling before the grave, his hand suspended above the marble for several seconds.

Mo Fei watched him in silence after witnessing one of the core memories of his past that was persistent enough to remain even after thousands of years. He had seen powerful Ascended lose control, witnessed corruption devour their reason, and encountered entities whose existence warped the laws of reality. Yet this was different.

This Angel wasn’t attacked, nor did he attack. He was remembering something he had forgotten... and somehow, that frightened Mo Fei more than any monster could have.

A sharp pain suddenly pierced his forehead. His Apprentice’s Eyes activated without permission as suddenly the grave disappeared.

The underground chamber dissolved into a boundless expanse of darkness, and countless silver threads emerged from the void. They converged upon a single point, weaving together into a gigantic, intricate symbol.

Mo Fei attempted to withdraw his gaze, but he couldn’t.

A bell rang somewhere.

Ring!

Ring!