The Demon Against The Heavens 238 Last Hangover

They were on the roof of the Royal Palace.

In the moonlight, the figure of Helial also had something otherworldly about it. It seemed to reflect the milky glow of light, s.h.i.+ning. The boy turned to look at Circe and then returned to look at the stars.

"The greatest warrior? That's only because Pseudonym is no longer in the city. But I feel that this t.i.tle still belongs to him."

Helial's words contained no resentment or self-pity, on the contrary, they were full of sincerity and respect for Pseudonym.

Circe leaned slowly against the Human's back.

"It is as if you change every day, as if you are a different person. As if you lived a different life every day. What do you live every day to be like this?"

Circe waited anxiously for Helial's answer, but received only a look that caused a twinge in the young woman's heart.

As much as Helial had tried to hide it, there was a grain of compa.s.sion in her eyes that Circe couldn't help noticing. This was enough for her to feel that she had never really been part of Helial's life.

Circe had tried to believe that Lumia's words were only a way to get her away from the boy, but she had been strongly influenced by them. Like an annoying buzz, the idea of not being able to live up to Helial had irritated her mind and heart.

It was a blow in her pride having to admit that Lumia was right. And that, in the end, she was really falling in love with Helial. Like a spider that gets caught in its own web, the Witch of Orma had remained chained to the thin thread she had woven.

The difference between Circe and Helial was as imperceptible as it was abysmal: Helial possessed the State of the Emperor. Only when Circe reached it, would the Witch manage to smooth out the mountain that separated her from Helial and try to reach him on the summit.

But, at that moment, Circe was only afraid. Afraid of her emotions, her weakness, her limits, of not being able to become as strong as Pseudonym and Helial and continuing to walk on their path of fame and power.

The Witch pushed back the tears that were about to burst from her deep black eyes and decided that she really didn't need an answer. Pretending swagger, she hugged Helial.

In the silence of the night, she remembered that Helial was able to manipulate a cute white flame. Sometimes, she had asked him to entertain her with tricks that she liked a lot.

He whispered in the boy's ear: "Can I see some fireworks?"

Helial smiled at her, almost melancholy, and opened her palms upwards, but the flame did not appear. "Starting tonight and for some time, no more fire."

Circe did not understand the reason for that answer and was somewhat disappointed. It seemed that Helial was making an effort that evening to ruin her mood. She looked down and rubbed her cheek against Helial's shoulder, like a cat looking for affection.

Seeing her like this, the Witch of Orma wasn't even that scary. She was just a girl in love and full of fears, and nothing more.

Helial turned to her and caressed her cheek, but immediately Circe touched his lips with a gentle force as only the strength of a kiss can be.

The girl detached herself and looked Helial in the eyes. The deep gaze of the Human seemed to investigate Circe's fragile heart and stirred something in the soul of the young woman.

"If my destiny is death, I want to die fighting next to you, even if I won't be worthy of being by your side," said Circe, her voice firm and sure. "I don't want to die alone in this city."

All the tears that Circe had held back so far began to flow from her eyes. Her big chest jumped in her failed attempt to hold back her sobs.

Helial gave the girl the same look a father would give to a daughter and, in a firm but understanding voice, told her not to cry.

A couple of sobs later, Circe stopped the tears, and then started to cry even faster.

"Crying is useless. We all live without knowing what really awaits us tomorrow. What really can be useful is to believe in what you want to do, until the moment you reach it or die to reach it. Once dead, we will not be able to complain and cry. After winning, all the same, we will not be able to complain or cry."

"You're making things seem much simpler than they are..." Circe murmured.

"No. Things have always been simple. From the laws that govern the universe to what we live every day, everything has two ways. Yes or no, here are our only options.

We continue to believe that there are different nuances, that one thing can be done in a million different ways. This is true, but before taking action, you need to decide whether something is worth doing or not.

Ours world is based on this combination. And every time we deny ourselves the attempt to live and become stronger, we are throwing thousands, indeed, millions of possible choices. If you keep crying, you're denying yourself this chance."

In the darkness, Helial's eyes shone with their own light. Looking at them, Circe decided that after the battle the following day, she would either train to become as strong as Helial, or die in an attempt to do so.

A chill wind brushed the boys' hair, as if it wanted to remind them that the same day the same chill would cross their bodies trembling with fear.

A scream ripped through the darkness: "Give me more wine, this could be my last hangover!" Followed by a roar of people toasting, festive.

Helial and Circe burst out laughing suddenly. They didn't know who had screamed, but that phrase was tragically comic.

Circe ran a hand over her damp cheeks while still smiling.

"Do you miss him?" Helial asked point-blank.

Circe's gaze lit up, as if Helial's words had been the spark to ignite something in her heart. The young woman did not know if the flame would have blossomed now or in the future, but she was sure that those words would help change it.

Although Helial was young, his constant meditation on Life and Destruction on his Mana Path had made him much wiser than his age. The company of terrifying creatures like Alexander and Iblis had allowed him to tap into a way of thinking that very few people could reach.

If he had used his knowledge to create a bond with the people he found on his way, to guide them or to give them inspiration, then he would have become an unrivalled leader.

If he had used it to rise above others and dominate them, then he would have been the greatest of tyrants.

"Who?"

"Pseudonym. Having been the eternal second should have made you even a little fond of him, right?" Helial teased her.

The other replied with an angry, offended expression. Then she smiled tenderly. "Although he always had Orma's spotlight on him, he always lived in the shadow of the stage. When his presence was necessary, he appeared as if from nowhere. He was always at the right time in the right place. He managed to amaze everyone, even though we all knew he was the strongest; and then it proved to be even stronger. Therefore, even now, it seems to me that it can emerge at any moment from some corner of this building."

She hadn't answered the question directly, but Helial knew he was right.

"Can you tell me something about how he became a slave in Orma?" Helial asked cautiously, without making it clear how curious he was about the subject.

"People with full access to this information can be counted on the fingers of one hand. I know much more than I should. I forced my father to spill the beans, after yet another clash lost against Pseudonym. In short, you know my techniques ... But I respect him too much to violate his secret." Helial nodded, expecting one such response in one way or another. "However, I am pretty sure that one day you will be able to meet him. After all, you also belong to the same race."

A few minutes of silence followed. The stars were many, in the clear sky of Orma.

"Why do you care so much about him?" Circe asked, resting her breast on Helial's chest. "I also have stories about my past to tell, but you ask me about him as if he were your fiancée. Hey," she chuckled. "I never told you about that time when my mother..."

Circe had returned the usual charmer and was speaking to Helial, interspersing her words with malicious bites on the boy's lobes. In his veins, however, there was already the adrenaline at the thought of the battle of the following day.

A shooting star pa.s.sed before their eyes and Circe hoped it was a good omen. She and her Team will triumph together with Helial and their other Goblin companions and their life will return exactly as it was before.