Chapter 326: The Power of Weakness (Part 3)

  The occupation and cleansing of the desert tribes no longer required Talise's attention, nor did she want to concern herself with it.

  If it were in the past, no matter how heavy her injuries or how tired her body, she would have insisted that everything proceed according to her will. In the past, when occupying a heretic village, a few swordsmen attempted to molest the women in the village. She executed those swordsmen on the spot by burning them at the stake. But not long after, she found that the people of that village would rather die than abandon their original faith, instead believing that the Church's forces were the evil devils, so she put the entire village to the torch. At the time, she felt her actions were perfectly justified; her noble sense of justice could not tolerate the slightest blasphemy or offense. Now, thinking back, she could feel that it was somewhat childish and ridiculous.

  Perhaps the women and children of those tribes would also resist, leading to some unnecessary massacres. Perhaps the officers in charge of the occupation would have some outrageous actions. Although she still could not approve of such behaviors, she was no longer as serious about it. She just said to the Templar in charge of the occupation, "Don't go too far, be kind to the children and women."

  It wasn't that she was numb, but that she no longer had the energy and strength to be serious. The things weighing on her body and mind were already too heavy, so heavy that she no longer wanted to bother with these matters. But this was not the only reason. It wasn't just that she lacked energy and strength in her heart; physically too, she was seriously injured.

  "Knight Talise, because of you, this war against the desert tribes went much smoother than expected... But you didn't have to get yourself into such a state." The priestess who was bandaging and healing her was a fifty-year-old woman who had spent most of her life in the army, and she had the kind of benevolent and kind demeanor of an old doctor. She sighed as she bandaged the wounds on Talise's body.

  It was a well-proportioned, healthy, yet not overly muscular body, instead showing more fluid lines. It could be called a very beautiful body. Even as a fellow woman, the priestess could feel that this Temple Knight's body was indeed very beautiful. So it looked even more shocking now. On her originally jade-like, fair skin, there were now terrifying traces of bruises and deformations everywhere. Torn and rolled-up flesh, and these were all injuries caused through the Radiant Battleplate.

  If she hadn't been wearing the armor known as the most defensive on the continent, each of these blows would have been fatal. But even so, her fighting style was no different from fighting for her life.

  "If you had dodged even a little bit slower back then, your neck would have been broken for sure. And here, if this broken rib had been a little more to the left, and the direction of the bone fracture had gone a little deeper inside, it would have pierced the main artery next to your heart. Even if the white magic on the Radiant Battleplate could prevent you from dying on the spot, you would have definitely lost your ability to fight. And that was in the middle of a massive army... While earning merits is important, you don't have to fight so desperately."

  Talise did not speak. This was not the first time someone had said this to her in recent days. From Celeste to this front line, in every battle, she always charged to the forefront, always achieved the greatest military merits, and always suffered the heaviest injuries.

  Even the bravest and most seasoned warriors in the army could not help but be thoroughly impressed by this female Temple Knight's ferocity. No one dared to have the slightest contempt for her because she was a woman. Her performance on the battlefield was completely unlike a woman, not even quite like a human. Whenever they saw her return, expressionless, covered in blood and wounds, carrying the head of an enemy leader, every swordsman who considered himself a brave warrior would feel a chill down his spine.

  However, no one knew that her purpose in fighting so desperately was not for merits or anything else; she was fighting for the sake of fighting desperately.

  Weaving through blades and swords, in countless moments when her life hung by a thread, she felt no terror at all. She even deliberately sought the most risky, and therefore most efficient, fighting methods. Many times, a strange thought would float in her mind: perhaps it would be better to die just like that.

  "What happened to this hand of yours, Knight Talise? It looks like it was severed by a sharp weapon, and not long ago. With your status, you could have asked several Cardinals to work together, they should be able to..."

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  "We tried. It couldn't be reattached," Talise replied faintly.

  This hand, severed while blocking for Ethan, was cut off in The Radiant Citadel. There were priests skilled in white magic everywhere, as well as several Cardinals. Although it couldn't compare to the exquisite limb magic of the Necromancers of Diya Valley, reattaching a freshly severed hand should not have been a difficult task. But to everyone's surprise, no matter the effort, no matter the white magic, even though it could heal her other wounds, it was completely powerless against this hand severed by a sword. The severed wrist seemed to have a will of its own, rejecting the part that was once connected to it by flesh and blood.

  "Oh?" The priestess was a little surprised, but her surprised expression didn't seem to be aimed at what Talise said, but rather at her face. Her hands with the bandages and healing magic did not stop, but she said no more. After a long while, she suddenly asked, "Why was it severed?"

  "I just blocked a blow for someone."

  "I see. The reason it can't be reattached might be because what was broken wasn't your hand... but your heart."

  A ripple appeared on Talise's face, which had been as calm as a statue. She looked at the priestess.

  The priestess just shrugged.

  A voice suddenly came from outside the tent: "Lady Talise, there is someone claiming to be your sister seeking an audience outside the military camp. She is a teenage girl, and seems to be a mage."

  "What?" Talise stood up abruptly. Two of her wounds that had already been bandaged and treated immediately started to bleed again because of this movement.

  "Bring her in... You all... please leave..." After a moment, Talise's voice came from inside the tent, clearly trembling, which made the soldier outside a little puzzled. He didn't know how the knight, who was usually as calm as could be when chopping off an enemy's head like a chicken's, could have such a voice.

  "How did you get here?"

  On Aimee's frail body was a large, dirty adventurer's robe. Her young and pretty face was full of a weather-beaten look that didn't match her age. Only the two of them were in the tent. Talise tried her best to calm herself, but she couldn't. She could feel that her voice and gaze were abnormal.

  "I came to find you, sister." Aimee's eyes were still as clear as ever, looking directly at Talise. Her voice was also calm.

  "Didn't Teacher Lancelot already arrange for you to return to Erathia? Don't worry, he has already promised me..."

  "I know. I know it was because of your plea that Lord Lancelot spared me. For someone like me who knows too much to be allowed to live is actually a very unreasonable thing. But Lord Lancelot did it, and I think it must be because of you, sister."

  "Then you should have stayed in Erathia. After this period is over, you can go to the Tower of Fangs... Why did you come here to find me? It's so dangerous here..."

  This desert is far from Erathia. In these chaotic times, the journey was not peaceful. Many places were still wild lands where dangerous beasts and Goblins roamed. For Aimee, a girl, to travel here, the hardship and her astonishing perseverance were evident.

  "I came to ask you something, sister. I haven't seen you since that day. I first went to Celeste to find you, but you weren't there. After asking around, I found out you came to this place, so I've been following you ever since."

  "You... actually, there are some things you don't need to know..." Talise was a little flustered. She no longer dared to look directly into Aimee's eyes. A significant reason she left Celeste and came here was that she didn't want to, and didn't dare to see Aimee, but she knew that Aimee would definitely come.

  "No, I must know." Aimee's voice was gentle, yet also firm.

  "No, don't say any more. I will have someone send you back to Erathia tomorrow." Talise rudely interrupted Aimee and stood up.

  "Actually, even if you don't say it, I know some things. You are going to kill Brother Ethan, aren't you?" Aimee asked, still maintaining her gentle voice.

  Talise immediately replied loudly: "He deserves to be killed! He is the most wanted criminal on the continent. Two of the most revered Cardinals died at his hands. He also helped those orcs... and... He is simply a despicable and evil person, why shouldn't he be killed?"

  "If he really deserves to die, then why did you block a sword for him, sister? And why did you plead with Lord Lancelot not to make things difficult for him?"

  "That's because I was crazy at the time! Please, stop asking about this, okay?" Talise almost roared.

  "No, actually, this is not what I wanted to ask. I can see it, I can feel it." In contrast to Talise's agitation, Aimee seemed very calm, her tone and expression gentle and indifferent. But the words from her mouth made Talise freeze in place, unable to move. Every single word struck deep into Talise's heart. "I know that you are so agitated, sister, because you don't want Brother Ethan to die. You would rather have your own hand cut off than his. You also like Brother Ethan very much, don't you?"

  "But you made that choice in the end. I believe you must have had a reason you had to choose that way, sister. I just hope you can tell me that reason. Is that... related to the sword hilt that Brother Ethan is holding? And to all those powers he talked about himself having?"

  "You... how did you know?" Talise stared at Aimee, dumbfounded.

  "Just from following Brother Ethan for so long and knowing so many of his secrets, it's not that hard to guess, right? It's just that I don't know the details. I hope you can tell me, sister. I think I have the right to know, because he is my big brother..." Aimee took a deep breath. "And you are my sister... You two are my only family left. But you will both die because of this. I know that when Brother Ethan dies, you will die too..."

  Taking a few steps back, Talise sat down dejectedly. Aimee's words hammered into her heart, one by one, pulling out the source of her agitation and anger. What was left was only a sour, bitter emptiness. She looked down at the ground and murmured, "It's no longer a question of who wants whom to die. No one's wishes matter, because he must die... I must make this choice."

  "Why? Why must you make this choice?"

  "Because..." The word was on her lips, but Talise couldn't say it. This word, which she had always kept on her lips and regarded as her creed, suddenly couldn't be spoken.

  Before, it was a belief, the light of heaven from on high that could judge everything, so it could be spoken out loud without any hesitation. But when it became a heavy, almost unbearable real responsibility, a real choice, laden with too much helplessness, sorrow, and bitterness, it could no longer be spoken.

  It's not just sorrow that makes one want to speak but then stop. In fact, most real things are like this. The more someone can talk eloquently and fancily, the less they truly understand. Those who truly understand are no longer able to speak, or no longer want to.