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Chapter 442. The Story of the Third Cycle [3 Reincarnations] (19)

When he ran up to the boy again, he saw the black-haired youth smiling at him. He was no longer wearing the white robe, but had changed into a black suit with a white sash on his hat.

That was clearly the mark of the god of death and silence.

In another cycle, his past self fulfilled his promise and finally altered his inevitable death.

Vera was so excited she almost cried; she wanted to say so much to her brother.

He wanted to tell him that in his first life, he made a deal with the Grim Reaper to support the two of them, and eventually died of illness.

She wanted to tell him that in his second life she helped him achieve his ideals, but instead she watched him being devoured by the gods and eventually turning into a monster.

She wanted to say that in order to get to where she is today, for this peaceful and harmless twilight bathed in orange light, she had traversed countless cycles of despair and swallowed countless tears.

But all the surging emotions that threatened to burst from her chest were silently calmed and subsided in the gentle gaze of the young man.

He merely tilted his head slightly, a familiar hint of doubt in his voice, yet with unwavering certainty, and asked softly:

"Have we... met somewhere before? Would you—be my sister?"

Vera nodded vigorously, tears finally welling up in her eyes.

She threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly, as if to confirm that this warmth was not yet another fragile illusion.

Her brother's hand gently landed on her hair, soothingly stroking it, just like it had been a long, long time ago.

"Don't cry, little sister."

His voice was tinged with laughter:
"Brother will take you to eat something delicious."

He paused, as if remembering something, and looked down at her:

"By the way, what's your name?"

Edric stared at her. Vera raised the back of her hand, hastily wiping away the tears on her face, and tilted her head back to make her voice as clear as possible:

“Delis Vera. My name is Vera.”

Before he could finish speaking, a gentle call came from the street corner.

A woman carrying a bamboo basket approached; the basket was filled with snow-white, fluffy steamed buns, releasing warm steam. She smiled and waved in their direction.
"Vera, come back for dinner!"

Beside the woman, a little girl with pigtails skipped around, her voice clear and melodious:
"Sister! Dinner's ready!"

Vera turned around, waved vigorously at them, tears still on her face, but a big smile bloomed on her lips:

"Mom! Sister! I've found my brother—I'm going with him! Thank you... thank you for taking care of me all this time."

Edric waited quietly for her to finish speaking, then reached out and gently took her slightly cold fingers in his hand.

He led her back to the inn where he was staying and ordered a lavish dinner that was almost extravagant.

The candlelight flickered, illuminating the dishes on the table.

Vera ate with both hands, each holding a shiny, fragrant chicken leg, making no attempt to maintain her composure.

Edric rested his chin on his hand, watching her with a gentle smile in his eyes, and couldn't resist teasing her:

"A chicken has two legs, so you can eat them together, one on the left and one on the right... If you're still not full, your brother will go and buy you another one."

The first half of the sentence drifted into my ears, carrying a distant and unsettling familiarity.

The deep pool of memory was stirred, and in a daze, it seemed as if someone had once said similar words to her in a similar tone—only the second half of the sentence was completely different.

The little girl, who was gnawing on a chicken leg, paused slightly, then suddenly looked up and asked, "Brother, have you met someone named Owen Andor?"

Edric nodded in surprise and said:

"He's my good brother—do you know him too?"

Vera said slowly:

"I don't know him. I heard about him from someone else, and I was just curious."

"Born into a wealthy family, such a good start, just live life to the fullest."

After saying that, she continued to chew her chicken leg heartily.

The conversation about Andorra didn't go into depth because Edric felt sorry for her because of her shabby clothes, so he went to the street to buy her clothes after she finished eating.

While the young man was away, Vera quickly stuffed the pearl earrings from her pocket and the dress from the linen lining into a corner.

The third cycle restarted, starting from the dusk when she opened her eyes, and everything seemed different.

That very night, in the desolate land not far from the domain of the God of Original Sin, a black temple covered with spider lilies was born.

Then the divine essence of the True God of Salvation appeared before them.

In the second cycle, the faith in the Azure Leaf God that she had raised had already taken shape, and in the third cycle, this divine status was correctly established through the recognition of the Supreme God of Death and Silence, and the divine position was assigned to the seat of Miracle.

As soon as Vera opened her eyes, she automatically inherited the Azure Leaf Godhood and possessed top-tier healing power far exceeding that of the previous two reincarnations.

The epidemic began to spread again in this cycle, but as soon as it started, Vera opened her own chain of pharmacies, selling medicine packs to control the epidemic.

The streets were no longer littered with corpses, and the number of people who died from the epidemic had decreased significantly. With the festival approaching, the Vatican did not notice the existence of the epidemic.

Without the panic and economic recession caused by the epidemic, the budget for the celebration was more than sufficient. The elder brother did not quarrel with the Vatican over the funds and naturally ascended to the throne of the Holy Son.

On that day, Vera was not entirely without trepidation. She was unclear about the specific procedures for succession, and had no way of knowing how she, now a god of death, would interfere.

Until the distant, majestic, deep tolling of bells echoed, the sound of the death knell rippling across the entire continent.

The following day, Vera picked up the newly published newspaper at the office; the front page prominently featured the headline:

[Shocking! The Holy See's chosen Son of Light has transformed into a deathly priest!]

Only then did she breathe a long sigh of relief, certain that her brother had finally broken free from the suffocating shackles of fate.

That day, she saw the boy in the floral hat on the street again, who couldn't find a publisher to publish his manuscript.

However, Vera had already amassed considerable wealth. She wore a pearl headband and earrings, and a fine green tutu. Dressed impeccably, she stood by the roadside, gazing at the boy's melancholy and indignant figure from afar, without approaching him.

She spent gold coins to find a highly respected newspaper editor and earnestly persuaded him to seek opportunities in the newly established Temple of Deathly Silence.

Temples all have their own affiliated publishing houses, let alone the supreme god—the higher the god's position, the more open-minded he is, and perhaps even the god of death and silence would be willing to publish for him.

The boy in the floral hat's eyes lit up upon hearing this. He hurriedly removed his hat, bowed, and rushed off to the flying carriage pavilion.

After doing all this, Vera went to the madwoman's place, treated Delilah, gave her financial assistance, and truly made her her own mother again.

Later, she would time it perfectly, change into beggar's clothes, and squat on the street, waiting for fate to bring the lost together.

Fortunately, everything went very smoothly, and she finally got the future she wanted.

Everything I'm experiencing now feels like a grand miracle.

But Vera knew this was not a miracle, but a series of cycles, the culmination of all the suffering and hardship, culminating in the ultimate fulfillment.