Night World Players

Chapter 253 You are beautiful enough in my eyes right now.
Behind them, the bright world on the sea of ​​clouds disappeared.

Instead, it became a desolate wasteland.

There was steam and flames all around. The metal was deformed by the high temperature. Pieces of wooden planks fell and hit the ground, turning into scattered fragments.

The sky was scorched black and red by thick smoke and fire, and the air was filled with the decaying smell of dust and ashes.

In the distance, the dilapidated town was shrouded in a sea of ​​fire that exuded an aura of death, leaving only a blurry outline.

This is a hell, a purgatory on earth called "Canaan".

Indeed, this is Amys's true mental landscape.

As Rast said, the country girl who had lived on the border since childhood and had never left the town... never had such a grand and magnificent ambition, a heart that embraced the world and the civilization of all mankind.

You think she's an angel of judgment, looking down upon the mortal world from the clouds, able to rule with violence alone—

But in reality, all Amys possessed was that Canaan town and the memories of living with the people in it.

At this very moment, even such a humble image of the mind has become a mess, desolate and broken... just like Amys's mind, which has long reached its limit and is on the verge of collapse.

This is a matter of course.

Amys is not Hiltina; she doesn't disregard the opinions of others and remain steadfast and determined even when everyone questions her.

She is not Gray, nor does she possess the ideal of the "Guardian," which the angel of fate would strive to achieve even if it meant severing her own angelic status and being forever banished to the deepest reaches of the stars.

Either of these two individuals could have overcome the will of the Judgment Star Cup during their long slumber with their own strength... Their minds remained clear and pure, untouched by any dust, and even after an entire era, nearly ten thousand years, they never wavered or became confused.

But Amys couldn't do it.

Even though she possesses the appearance of a Judgment Angel, her essence remains that of a little girl living on the border—the entire Canaan town, the dense forest behind the town, and the Three Sages Mountains with their snow-capped peaks in the distance—this is Amys's whole world.

It is perhaps too harsh to impose those great achievements that only true heroes can accomplish on a naive and ignorant country girl.

In fact, it is already a great miracle that Amys has been able to persevere to this day.

The cause of this miracle was the promise she made to Last: that he would definitely come and save her.

Since this agreement has not yet been reached, I must not give up first.

No matter how painful or sordid it is to hide oneself in a dark, shadowy cave, one must still live on, even if it means enduring ugliness...

Perhaps it was this unwavering determination that allowed that little girl to endure the long, endless years and persevere until today.

……

The train of thought paused briefly.

Rust stopped in front of a house in the town.

The entire house had been burned to ashes by the raging fire, and through the black and red flames, only the collapsing wooden structure could be faintly discerned.

But even through the faint outline of the building in the sea of ​​fire, Last recognized it.

This was his and Amys's dwelling in Canaan. Originally, when this little cabin belonging to Rust and Amys was built with the help of the adults in the town, it was completely empty inside, without even a decent bed; it was just an empty shell.

But later, through their joint efforts, whether by personally cutting down trees to make furniture or by exchanging hunted game and handicrafts with traveling merchants who regularly visited Canaan, the little house gradually became more substantial and vibrant.

This is a place that holds countless memories for Raste and Amys.

Countless scorching summer days and countless winter nights with heavy snowfalls, they would huddle in this little house, chatting aimlessly about trivial daily matters—simple, yet ever-fresh.

And when Last was trapped in the endless cycle of the same day in Deep Blue Harbor, no matter how desperate, how broken he became, or how he contemplated self-destruction—

But as soon as he returned to the cottage, saw the familiar wooden ceiling, heard the bubbling sound of porridge boiling in the pot, and saw the blonde girl humming a country folk song while cooking in the kitchen, Rust would immediately calm down and his soul would be healed, as if he were in an ideal paradise secluded from the world.

Amys could never become Hiltina, nor could she become Gray.

However, it is precisely because she is "Amys", that she is an ordinary country girl.

That's why she was able to be the only person in the world to stand by Rust's side when Rust was most confused, vulnerable, and even beginning to doubt himself.

Amys is willing to join the Shoreguards and become a "friend of justice"... but this is not because Amys herself agrees with the Shoreguards' ideals, but because it is Lust's ideal, so she doesn't mind taking it as her own ideal as well.

If one day Rust abandons this ideal, chooses to deceive himself and escape reality, or becomes corrupted and degenerates into a heinous criminal... then she will only follow him silently.

Amys will stay with Raste from birth to death.

"So...isn't that enough?"

Looking at the ruins of the buildings engulfed in flames, Last smiled slightly and murmured to himself.

"There's no need to emulate Hiltina's brilliance, nor to become Gray—"

"You are already dazzling enough, beautiful enough."

"In my heart, no one can replace you."

After saying that, he turned away gently, heading in the opposite direction from the little house that held countless memories for the two of them.

Last knew that the ruins of the cabin were empty, and that Amys's true form was not there.

To avoid being corrupted by the angel of judgment, and to prevent the last vestige of her self from being devoured by it... at this moment, the little girl carefully hid herself away.

She hid in a place known only to Rust and her.

Rust strode away from the ruins of the town engulfed in flames.

The thick smoke, carrying the scent of death, gradually dissipated beside me.

And so Rust followed the path toward the back of the border town, toward the mountains covered with dense forests.

That is where the boy and girl first met.

(End of this chapter)