Chapter 248

248 The Moth

Selma Payne’s POV:

A snowflake landed on the tip of Dorothy’s nose, and after circling for a long time, it crystallized.

She stopped breathing.

She was dead.

Dorothy was dead.

I was in a daze as I held her body.

How could she have died?

Why did she die?

The snow buried the corpses on the ground. In a daze, I couldn’t even tell if I was carrying her or someone else in the snow.

As the cold wind blew, I suddenly realized that the souls surrounding me had disappeared.

They no longer whispered in my ear, no longer gathered around me to take revenge on Azazel. Just like that, they disappeared without a sound, as if they were dissatisfied with my powerlessness and no longer wanted to face this tragic ending. Thus, they flew toward the moon in the snow.

Dorothy’s corpse was snatched away by Mullwica, but I didn’t feel anything. I could only stare blankly at the blue sky.

There were no stars, no moon, and no quiet night sky. The daytime was the domain of the sun. Under the intense sunlight, it seemed that all evil had nowhere to hide, and all good would overwhelm evil.

But there was no moon.

The sun was of no importance to us. A tired wolf could only close its eyes under the illumination of the moonlight.

Without the moon, where would they go?

Dorothy, Aldrich, and many others. The sunlight had blocked the path to the Moon Palace, so where would they go?

Was this icy cold snow grave their eternal resting place?

I heard someone calling out to me, but Mullwica was crying, and Azazel was watching a good show. So who was the one speaking?

Ah, I recalled that now. It was Maxine.

My wolf.

“Pull yourself together, Selma. You’re the only one left now. Do you want everyone’s hard work to go to waste? Do you want the entire advance party to be annihilated? If you were to die, who would remember everything that happened tonight? Who would pay tribute to the dead souls? Who will take revenge for the wronged?”

“But what’s the use of me being alone?” I muttered.

“That’s impossible. This is the difference between mortals and gods. If an ant can never fight against a mountain, there’s no need for anything else.”

“Don’t say such demoralizing words!” Maxine was rather angry. “What kind of mountain is Azazel? Are you willing to be an ant again? Didn’t you say you would light up everything? If you die, you’ll have nothing!”

Light up everything?

With me?

A match in a dark room, a firefly in the middle of the night, what could I illuminate? I probably didn’t even have time to leave a single spot of light before I disappeared into the torrent of time.

Even if he was a demon, what was the difference between Azazel’s power and a god’s?

How could mortals fight against gods?

“Remember your words, girl,” Maxine suddenly calmed down and said emotionlessly. “If having the power of a god is not enough, then become a god.”

“Become a god?”

But what should I do? I’d tried. I’d tried many times but couldn’t even devour a drop of divine blood. As for the black mist, it was not even worth mentioning.

How could a mortal become a god?

Maxine’s voice disappeared. I didn’t know if she had given up on me or if my world had become peaceful.

I saw Mullwica holding Dorothy’s body and wailing in silence. I saw Azazel’s silent sarcasm. I saw the wriggling roots quietly engulfing the corpses on the ground. I saw the deformed wolves quietly pouncing on the mad Mullwica.

I saw.

I saw...

I saw a small stream.

The snow mountain had disappeared, the wolves had disappeared, and so had Mullwica and Azazel.

It was a quiet field with lush grass and sparse trees. The sky was high, and the clouds were light. I stepped into the flowing stream, and something was gently gnawing at my skin.

I scooped up a handful of water and saw a small golden fish the size of a thumb.

No, this was not a tiny fish, but a moth with its wings tightly wrapped around its body.

After leaving the stream, it slowly spread out its golden wings, but its furry body was completely black. The color scheme didn’t make my hair stand on end. Instead, it gave me an indescribable sense of intimacy.

The moth flew away.

Behind it, countless black and gold moths flapped their wings and took off from the stream, setting off a fine breeze in the wilderness.

The wind brought a guest to my back.

“Are you tired?” she whispered in my ear. “My child?”

I nodded.

“Alright, you can rest for a while.” She hugged me gently, and her tulle fell on my shoulder like the faint moonlight.

“I don’t want to leave,” I whispered, feeling a little misunderstood. “The outside world is scary. I hate it.”

She didn’t answer me but sent a lost moth to me.

The moths circled aimlessly, not knowing which direction to go. Gradually, its physical strength was exhausted, and it flew lower and lower, slower and slower until it almost fell into the stream.

“Will it drown?”

...

“No, she’s the stream, and the stream is her.”

The moth melted into the water, and after a while, another moth emerged from the stream and flew in the direction of the wind.