Mystery: The Last Shepherd

Chapter 129 Death and Rebirth
Blackthorn Security Company, some time later.

Leonard Mitchell sat blankly on the dilapidated steps, his face pale and his eyes vacant. Facing the Backlund night watchmen who gathered around to question him, he had to force himself to concentrate and answer their questions.

Even so, the faces of my deceased colleagues still appear before my eyes from time to time.

Lu Ze, his heart pierced, charred and withered;
Klein looked astonished.

Dunn fought until his last breath.
He would occasionally space out, and sometimes wonder why the mastermind behind it all took away Klein and Luzer's extraordinary traits, but left behind Dunn's traits, as well as the other traits of Shepherd's Herding.

Everyone else died, only I survived.
Facing the Night Watchers of Backlund, he even had a crazy thought: what if he had died in that battle? That way, at least he wouldn't have to endure the torment of his own conscience—if he had played his part more actively and advanced earlier, perhaps the outcome would have been different.
Leonard was in a state of turmoil, and even felt somewhat annoyed by the night watchman in front of him.

He was about to call them away when he saw the crowd part like the sea, and at the end of it, there were Kreste Sesima's deep, calm eyes.

"I have not found any trace of Cecilia Rondor."

Krestie's first words made Leonard's heart sink to the dark mud below the steps.

Lu Ze is dead, his sister was taken away by bad guys, and I haven't even found a clue.
He closed his eyes in pain.

“I’m certain that Ince Zangwell and the sealed artifact 0-08 played a role in this,” Krestai said as he walked up to Leonard. “Under these circumstances, it’s already quite an achievement to have survived. You don’t need to blame yourself.”

However, Leonard paid no attention to Krestie's advice and only heard the key words in his words.

Ince Zangwell, the defector archbishop, the "gatekeeper" who failed his ascension; 0-08, a seemingly ordinary quill pen. He recalled the relevant information from his memory, and at the same time, his ears twitched slightly.

Because Krestais was standing in front of him, he didn't dare to make any obvious listening gestures, but simply listened quietly to the prompts from the voice in his mind.

Soon, the look of dejection on his face vanished.

"He's the mastermind behind all of this, isn't he?"

he asks.

Krestais nodded slowly.

"Your Excellency Cecima, I request to join the Red Gloves."

Leonard looked at Krestie's gloves, which were so red they looked like they were about to drip blood, and said seriously.

The "Red Gloves" are the elite force within the Night Watch, responsible for apprehending extraordinary cases nationwide. Their work is extremely dangerous, but promotions are also much faster. Krestai, as a senior deacon, is one of the three leaders of the Red Gloves and wields considerable influence on related matters.

"Our minimum requirement is sequence 7."

"I can speak calmly," Krest said.

"I'll be promoted soon."

Leonard said, his deep-seated hatred causing his emerald eyes to flash with a chilling light.

He didn't know why he had survived. But even for the sake of those who had died, he would become stronger and exact revenge on that damned bastard!
"Write to me after you get promoted."

Krestai looked into the other person's eyes. "Hatred can make a person grow up quickly, but don't forget, don't let it steal your soul. Also, there's something else. The bodies of your team members have been disposed of, and someone needs to report to their families."

"I'll go."

Leonard stood up, a pang of pain in his eyes. It wasn't just because he had to face Klein's siblings; more importantly, he realized that Luzer had no family left to contact.
Goddess, this ending is far too cruel for the Londor siblings, who have struggled to survive. We beg you, have more mercy.
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Several days later, in Tingen, at Raphael Cemetery. Dunn and Klein's funeral had ended. A sorrowful Melissa threw a theater ticket and a bronze whistle she had found on her brother into the grave. The crowd gradually gathered in front of Luzer's grave.

Leonard, Cohen, Frye, and Bright carried the light coffin over and placed it into the grave.

In front of the tomb stands Luze's tombstone, bearing his photograph. In the photo, he is handsome and young, with a radiant smile. Beside him sits Cecilia, dressed in an elegant gown, her beautiful face showing a hint of shyness. She avoids looking directly at the camera, but a smile still plays on her lips.

This is a photo they found at Luze's home, seemingly taken recently after he took his sister to buy a dress.

"I will do everything in my power to help you find Cecilia."

Leonard stood before the tombstone and silently spoke to the coffin.

Since no one from the Londohr family was left, his colleagues had to shovel soil and fill the grave, handful by handful, until the coffin was completely buried.

The deceased are gone, and they have been granted peaceful rest by the goddess. But those who remain still have to bear the hardships of life, their hearts burning with the flames of anger and hatred until the end.

After the funeral, no matter how sad the crowd was, they gradually dispersed.

Night quickly enveloped the cemetery.

Klein was the first to wake up.

He broke through the tomb and, to his surprise yet somewhat expected, found himself resurrected. After that, he struggled to accept his situation, realizing that he could no longer stay in Tingen—the resurrection was too shocking, and in this world where a true god existed, he would likely be captured and dissected.

He could only conceal his presence, use divination to bid farewell to the captain and Luze, and then leave the cemetery with the grief of parting from his family and the rage of revenge.

Under the crimson moonlight, peace was quickly restored to the place.

However, this peace did not last long.

"Thump, thump."

Heavy footsteps echoed from the depths of the cemetery. The sound was eerie and gloomy, as if lifeless corpses had come back to life, walking with difficulty. If anyone were in the cemetery at that moment, they would surely be terrified by the sound and turn to run away.

Under the moonlight, a massive figure gradually emerged. As it drew closer, it became clear that it was not a person, but a relatively delicate and beautiful young girl carrying a handsome young man covered in blood, as if his skin had been peeled off.

The girl's hands were covered in mud, and her fingernails were filled with blood and grime.

"Depravity and darkness are gifts from the Lord; blessed are those who can listen to His teachings."

The monstrous youth murmured, involuntarily reciting blasphemous and insane verses, as if he had fallen into a state of semi-madness. His words tormented the girl like invisible knives, causing pain to show on her delicate face, and blood to seep from her nose and eyes.

Even so, the girl did not let go of his hand, but resolutely carried him on her back, gently comforting the young man:

"Hang in there, brother. We promised each other we'd live on, we'd live on together."

The two figures gradually walked away from the cemetery and disappeared at the end of the street.

Finally, the cemetery gained true peace, and the crimson moonlight shone down with boundless tenderness, as if preparing to bestow upon the deceased infinite peace and gentleness.

[End of this volume]

(End of this chapter)