Shut up, brave man! I don't want to atone for my sins to you!

At this moment, He became a child, a child who had just severed the only connection with his mother and was able to embrace this strange world for the first time - the dirty flesh and blood on His body seemed to have been taken out of his mother's body, and the umbilical cord that had not yet been completely removed was still dragging behind Him.

For a moment, Charles felt that He was like an incomplete fetus, but the pollution gave Him an unusually strong vitality that allowed Him to be born into this world prematurely.

The giant tree named "Lentiheim" provided him with nutrients and energy. Perhaps the giant tree was his mother in a sense, but now he wanted to occupy his mother's body and devour all of her vitality.

She may be a good mother, but she is an unworthy child.

He has gone completely mad.

Charles heard his wailing. Amid the wailing, his huge body froze there. The roots made of flesh and blood penetrated deeply into the giant tree, forcibly draining the tree's vitality.

The hideous wound on his lower abdomen healed quickly, and his roots that were destroyed by the Witch of Dawn and Dusk grew again.

He slowly stood up his huge body like a tree.

The squirming, filthy flesh and blood are the leaves, the ostentatious, waving tentacles are the branches, and the eyeballs growing between the tentacles and the flesh and blood, casting indifferent glances at the brave man and the witch, are the flowers blooming from this bizarre tree.

Ciel suddenly had a hunch—

He had a premonition that the mad mother had finally given up on her naughty child and was about to complete her goal from the beginning to the end.

He will occupy the body of the great tree.

He will truly become the mother tree of the elves.

And what comes after that?

Charles didn't know what would happen after this, but his intuition told him that something bad might happen.

The pollution on the Mad Mother will spread through Lentiheim. By then, not only the elves' city-states, but also the nearby Forest Sea and the human city-states adjacent to the Forest Sea may be polluted into an indescribable state.

So he took a deep breath, clenched the holy sword in his hand, and then walked past the witch who was blocking his way.

With this movement, the wound on the side of his chest burst open, and blood slowly flowed out. His breathing became increasingly difficult, and blood foam overflowed from the corners of his mouth. Although his body was trying its best to repair itself, it was just a drop in the bucket.

But he still stood in front of the witch. He could still straighten his back and stand in front of the tree of flesh and blood.

Then, he turned around and stared into the beautiful green eyes of the witch who had transformed into a priest.

"I command..."

The hero whispered.

But he couldn't finish his words - before he could finish his command, the witch had already poked his lips with her wand and forced him to shut his mouth - after that, he heard the witch say to him viciously:

"I command! I command you not to command me!"

With that, she let go of her wand and took a step forward without hesitation.

After many days, the priest stood beside the brave man again.

She would stand shoulder to shoulder with him again.

[To be continued]

-

2/3

32. Do you regret it?

The priest and the brave warrior stood side by side to face an almost invincible enemy.

Charles felt that this scene seemed familiar.

Although the person standing next to him was not a real priest, but the Witch of Twilight pretending to be a priest.

She ordered him not to give her orders.

But she herself probably knew that under the influence of the forbidden spell, this order was as fragile as a soap bubble and would burst at the slightest poke.

If that was the case, why did she issue such an order?

Thinking about this, Charles couldn't help but ask:

"But……"

"No buts!" The witch interrupted him firmly, "Shut up!"

This was not an order given to him through the contract, so Ciel could still say:

"But……"

He raised his head and looked at the mad mother who was like a tree of flesh and blood not far from them, and said softly:

"I don't have the confidence to protect you, I..."

The pain in his wound spoke for him what he could not say.

He couldn't even take care of himself.

However, he heard the witch's sneer:

"I don't need your protection, you should protect yourself first."

Charles was speechless.

But he did not give up. He continued to persuade the witch, trying to make her understand the seriousness of the situation:

"We have no chance of defeating the Mistress. Whether it's you, me, or both of us working together, Her power is no less than that of a god. Only by spreading this message and letting people outside know about it, can we..."

He didn't finish his words.

Because the witch suddenly moved from his side to in front of him.

"—but that's exactly what I just said to you."

The witch said, raising her arm expressionlessly and pointing the wand in her hand at him.

Her aura turned the wand into a sword, but her gaze was far sharper than the sword's blade.

She looked Charles in the eye.

Her disguise gradually disappeared, the white dress turned back into black, her bright golden hair turned back into cool silver, and her emerald green eyes returned to blue.

"If that statement doesn't convince you, how can it convince me?"

She asked.

Charles was speechless.

But he felt that he should refute it.

He should tell the witch that this place is too dangerous and if he stays here, he might die.

The witch seemed to have heard his thoughts.

So, before he opened his mouth, the witch suddenly smiled at him.

"A hero can't flee from the battlefield," she said, tilting her head. She looked playful and cute, but her tone was serious and earnest. "But why can't I be a hero?"

Charles was stunned.

He was a little at a loss. Was this serious? Or was she joking? The witch had always had a bad personality. She always liked to play all kinds of jokes on him.

This time, however, Miss Witch seemed to be serious.

She looked at Charles and asked calmly:

"I want to be a hero too, so are you going to deprive me of the right to be a hero?"

But just as Miss Witch did not deprive Ciel of the power to become a hero, Ciel also has no right to deprive Miss Witch of the power to become a hero.

He could only remain silent.

He was a little surprised, or rather, delighted, because he had found like-minded companions and would no longer feel lonely.

Just like before, the warrior, the mage, and the priest lady whom he loved deeply.

Young people always come together because of their common interests. They walk hand in hand on the road to becoming heroes. If it weren't for that accident, if Rachel hadn't died to block the knife for him, maybe one of them would really become a hero.

Charles seemed to understand something.

So he nodded solemnly to Miss Witch, and answered with a serious tone he had never used before:

"I see."

Then, after a brief pause, he whispered:

"... And thank you."

Miss Witch didn't seem to hear what Ciel said.

She just clenched her wand, stared at the hideous wound on Charles' body, hesitated for a moment, and then waved the wand gently.

Glittering green rose from the tip of her staff, like a swarm of flying fireflies. They slowly gathered at Charles' wound, bringing him fresh vitality and slowly repairing his wound.

Charles was stunned.

He sensed a familiar aura from the faint light—Rachel had used this spell to heal his injuries countless times in the past.

But why does Miss Witch know the same spell?

He subconsciously looked at the witch lady, wanting to know the answer to this question.

However, the witch seemed to have guessed what Charles was thinking, so she answered without waiting for him to ask:

"It's just a simple healing spell. All you need is a hand."

After answering, she quickly turned her head and looked at the mad mother who had been deformed into a tree of flesh and blood, and said softly:

"Instead of worrying about this, we should think about how we should deal with that thing."

Upon hearing this, Charles immediately looked like a donkey whose attention was drawn to a carrot, following the witch's gaze towards the crazy mother.

Then he smiled bitterly:

"He happens to be the type of enemy that I am most helpless against. My forbidden spells have almost no effect on him, and his self-repair speed is far faster than the speed at which I can inflict wounds on him."

As he said this, he showed an expectant expression again and asked:

"What about you, Miss Witch? Do you have any way to deal with Him?"

The witch shook her head, but quickly nodded.

"I can't deal with the mistress either," she said, hesitating for a moment, then paused, and then continued, "But, who knows, maybe there will be some."

She stared at the mad mother who was slowly extending her tentacles and filthy flesh and sinking her roots deeply into the giant tree.

She saw that a large area centered on Him was flashing with intermittent red light, as if some kind of life was breathing. The dark red light gradually spread, quickly corroding and polluting the trunk of the giant tree.

I'm afraid it won't be long before the mad mother completely takes over the body of the giant tree.

Charles could already vaguely sense that the giant tree was shaking - like the cry of a dying human. Obviously, it couldn't hold on for much longer.

Can't sit still.

Charles gripped the hilt of the holy sword tightly, trying to bypass the witch and challenge the mad mother again.

But the witch stopped him.

Ciel turned his head in confusion, not understanding why she was stopping him.

The witch stared at the mad mother and whispered:

"I have already delivered the message from the mistress, but on the way back, I gradually figured out some other things."

"Why did those abnormalities appear in Lentiheim? Why did the elves disappear after the mistress called them? And where did they go..."

As she said this, she suddenly looked at Charles and asked an even more irrelevant question:

"Charles, if you were the mistress and one day you went mad, not only would you no longer be able to help your children, but your very existence would endanger them..."

"Will you choose life or death?"

Charles did not answer.