Sacrilegious Salvation - Chapter 2

That day, for me,
was merely a quiet interlude in life.

The silver-haired boy still sat at the entrance of the flower shop.

The owners of the flower shop were a simple, honest elderly couple.

The boy was exquisitely handsome, with a cold and aloof demeanor, attracting passersby; some even entered the shop to buy flowers just for a closer look at him.

“He’s just too beautiful!”

“He’s simply the most beautiful person in the world!”

Everyone, regardless of age or gender, sighed in admiration.

Yet the boy’s brows and eyes grew more weary, and those snow-white eyes had lost all their light, as silent as the night.

Once again, I brought him a red rose.

Even though he was surrounded by flowers.

The boy sat weakly in his wheelchair, behind him climbing red roses bloomed brilliantly, fiery red flowers and emerald leaves paling in comparison to his pure, noble silver hair and his cold yet stunning face.

“Thank you.”

He accepted it and thanked me.

His once bright red lips now looked pale-perhaps that person had fed him some medicine to break the curse again.

“God will bless you,” I whispered.

Ellis was stunned, looking at me in a daze. The stiff smile at the corner of his lips was unreadable to me, his brows and eyes melancholy yet gentle.

My fingertips twitched, a sudden sadness welling up.

Above, dark clouds gathered, thunder rumbled.

It was going to rain.

I bid him farewell, and, as if compelled by fate, I glanced back at him as I turned into the alley.

Under the gloomy sky, there were few pedestrians.

He sat there quietly; no one knew his identity. He seemed abandoned, about to fall into the abyss.

That night, a torrential rain fell.

The wind battered the glass with loud bangs.

I did not sleep peacefully.

In my groggy state, I even had a nightmare.

I dreamed the world was a forced NP Western fantasy novel.

The protagonist was the gentle and aloof Supreme God of Light.

Beautiful things are always coveted.

His nemesis and Believers, even the closest Archangel, all harbored unspeakably dirty thoughts toward him.

When he fell into his once-in-a-millennium slumber, they plotted to strip him of his divine power, to drag him down from the altar, and after fierce contention, reached a consensus to possess him together.

The God of Light, unable to bear the humiliation, fell from despair into numbness, trapped for life in a sunless temple, unable to live or die.

And I was one of the Believers who worshipped the God of Light, with few appearances; after he was forced to return to the temple, I was the one who, still in the mire, offered blessings, and also one of those attackers who threatened to kill all living things if he dared to run.

I woke from the dream, drenched in sweat.

I looked out into the vast night; the heavy rain pounded the glass, water streaming everywhere.

In the original story,

the Demon found an ancient magic to break the curse.

Tonight, the God would fall into the abyss forever.