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Chapter 417. Death in the Third Cycle
"Um……"

Jiang Jianxin still didn't understand.

Why has everything changed so much?

She had never witnessed those changes firsthand, and judging solely from her relationship with her brother, it was hard to imagine that the phrase "things have changed, people have changed" would be relevant to them.

Little Fairy Doctor sighed softly. In truth, she didn't fully understand the reasons either, but the facts were clearly laid out before her.

"Later, the Pope of Light sealed off the Realm of Light and issued an arrest warrant for you."

"However, you have already arrived in the territory of the Dark God Realm to continue practicing medicine and saving lives."

She still remembered that night when Qingye Shen held up the wanted poster and the picture of the severely deformed Pope of Light that had recently been circulating among the people, and looked at it for a long time.

The girl, who possessed powerful healing abilities, was exquisitely beautiful. When she slightly furrowed her brows, a faint, moonlit melancholy spread across her face.

She looked at the two pieces of paper and asked Little Fairy Doctor again:
Do you really think being a doctor can cure this absurd world?

Little Fairy Doctor was unable to answer.

She follows the God of Green Leaves, and as a fellow healer caught in the middle of the situation, how could she possibly see the answer to this question?

After a moment of silence, she could only whisper:
"It's getting late, sir. Please get some rest. I'll head back now."

After saying that, Little Fairy Doctor quietly left the room, leaving behind a room full of unanswered questions.

After the Little Fairy Doctor left, the little girl wearing a beret and a lake-green tutu opened her palms alone.

A soft green light emerged from her hand, illuminating her clear eyes and gentle brows.

But deep within those eyes lay an unyielding, profound sorrow.

Qingye Shen stretched out his fingertip and gently poked the warm, lake-green halo, muttering to himself:
"Why... do you only know how to save people?"

"There are so many bad people in the world, but you can't get rid of a single one."

"They took my brother away and forced me here... Why are you still so bright and gentle?"

Tears fell drop by drop into my palm.

The green light rose and fell gently like breathing, as if offering silent comfort.

The healing power was so warm, yet her heart was filled with only icy, bone-chilling pain.

She had no family left, and her only brother cherished her dearly. But now, her brother had been corrupted and turned into a twisted, deformed monster.

His last glance at her was filled with helplessness, and a faint but real desire to live.

But there was nothing she could do.

What's more cruel than being born alone is having truly felt warmth, only to watch helplessly as that warmth is overturned, trampled, and crushed into ashes, bit by bit.

Even though he knew all this, he could only stand there, powerless to do anything about it.

Aoba clenched her fingers, extinguishing the light in her palm. She raised her hands to cover her face and finally broke down in tears.

Fate and the predetermined future will never be changed by tears.

After that night, Aoba wiped away her tears and continued her medical practice.

She is the most powerful healer in the world. The plague stopped because of her arrival, and the dying were brought back to life by her hands.

As the healing power grew stronger, her heart grew increasingly empty.

However, living in that absurd and chaotic era, she couldn't save all the people who were sick at the bottom of society, nor could she save all the people who were sick at the top.

In the end, she was still bound to the stake. The gods above cheered—simply because she had saved so many lives, shaking the very foundations of their faith. More and more suffering people began to doubt the gods' mercy, turning instead to worship Aoba.

The temple's authority was thus shaken, and the clergy were furious.

The firewood crackled and popped at her feet, and scorching heat swirls upwards. Qingye Shen watched quietly as the leaping flames climbed up her emerald green skirt.

The healing power flowed naturally within her, so powerful that fire could no longer truly take her life.

Flames licked at her skin, leaving scorch marks that healed instantly.

Life and death tug at each other repeatedly in the body, yet can never truly reach the end point called "death".

Although she couldn't be burned to death, she was already heartbroken.

What good is it to just keep living?

The power of healing can save lives, but it cannot overturn the foundation of this absurd world.

The reshuffling of an era requires iron and blood, the purest violence and slaughter, and she had none of those.

Even if they survive by chance, they will only become a more pathetic sacrifice to the power of authority—an inexhaustible "blood bag," drained of its last bit of value by the covetousness and exploitation of countless gods, and forced to witness more helpless suffering in eternal imprisonment.

Therefore, Qingye Shen closed his eyes, suppressing the healing power flowing through his body inch by inch, withdrawing it deep into his bloodline until it completely subsided.

With no resistance, the flames were finally able to leap up instantly.

The skirt transformed into a swirling fire butterfly, the hair curled and charred in the heat, the skin felt a burning pain, followed by the faint sound of flesh burning.

She didn't struggle, but simply tilted her face slightly upwards amidst the increasingly intense heat.

The firelight illuminated her calm eyes, which held no fear, only a bottomless weariness and a knowing desolation.

Life flows away with the flames, the body becomes light, and consciousness gradually blurs in the high temperature, as if it too will dissipate with the rising heat.

Finally, amidst the clamor of the crowd and the gaze of the gods, that verdant figure that had once brought life to the world was completely merged with the flames, turning into a wisp of smoke that dissipated into the boundless ashes and night sky.

After recounting her memories of Qingye Shen's experiences, Xiao Yixian looked surprised at the sharp and spirited girl in front of her.

That face was clearly just a grown-up version of that little girl from back then, but her temperament had lost much of its gentleness and was more cold.

"She was eventually... burned to death?"

Jiang Jianxin said heavily.

"Yes."

Little Fairy Doctor closed her eyes, equally overwhelmed by that memory, unable to breathe:

"Before that... we were being chased all the way. To protect her, I was pierced through the heart by a spear. With such an injury, there should have been no chance of survival. But Lady Aoba... used almost all her strength to forcibly revive me using a forbidden technique."

Her voice trembled, and she paused for a long while before continuing:
"After that, she became extremely weak. Soon after... she was captured by soldiers."

"And then...that's how it was."

Jiang Jianxin did not speak again.

She simply stood quietly, her fingers curling almost imperceptibly at her sides before slowly relaxing.

"how so……"

　One more chapter is being written!

　　(End of this chapter)