Cycle of Destiny

Chapter 69 is not important.

Harry woke up suddenly, feeling as if a piece had been ripped out of his left chest, leaving only a hole that throbbed with a persistent, dull pain.

He opened his eyes, and his vision was initially filled with a blurry darkness before he was finally able to see his surroundings clearly.

Sweat soaked through his silk pajamas, the fabric clinging to his skin on the back and chest, feeling cold and sticky, making him very uncomfortable.

Harry tried to move his fingers, but his joints felt very heavy. Not just his fingers, he felt that every muscle in his body was very tired, and even lifting his eyelids was difficult.

He slowly propped himself up on his elbows, trying to sit up.

This simple action caused his vision to suddenly go black, countless tiny golden points of light exploded in the darkness, and a continuous buzzing sound rang in his ears.

He had to stop what he was doing, close his eyes, take a few deep breaths, and wait for the dizziness to pass.

He raised his hand, his fingertips trembling, and touched his left chest.

The skin under the pajamas was intact, with no wounds or bloodstains.

But the hollow pain was so real that it made him wonder if there was a hole festering under his skin.

He touched his face again. His hand felt very cold, and his skin was covered with a sticky layer of cold sweat.

He needs to see himself now.

I almost stumbled out of bed, my bare feet touching the cold floor.

He groped his way to the dressing mirror in the corner of the room, and the reflection in the mirror made him freeze.

It was still him, Harry. A bloated figure, brown hair, but everything seemed different.

The face in the mirror was deathly pale, as if all the blood had drained away overnight.

His eye sockets were deeply sunken, surrounded by heavy bluish shadows, which made his already small blue eyes look even smaller and unfocused, leaving only emptiness and blankness in his eyes.

His cheekbones were prominent due to the abnormal thinness of his cheeks, and his lips were dry, cracked, and bloodless.

The reflection in the mirror showed no sign of life.

He looked closer than ever to a hollowed-out walking corpse.

His entire face was shrouded in a weariness and pain on the verge of collapse, worse than the time he was awakened by being killed in his memory.

Harry looked at the unfamiliar, haggard fat man in the mirror and felt like he was about to die.

He rubbed his eyes again and suddenly realized that he had returned to normal.

What exactly is going on?

He needs Beckham, he needs Beckham to tell him why.

He gripped the ruby ​​around his neck tightly and whispered:

"Beckham..."

He waited. He waited for that gentle, lively voice or feeling to appear.

However, nothing happened.

Just as the panic and chill in his heart began to intensify—

In the mirror, in the shadows of the dimly lit room behind him, the air seemed to distort slightly.

Immediately afterwards, a chill crept into the room without warning, and the temperature plummeted.

Harry's exposed skin instantly broke out in goosebumps, and he involuntarily tightened his arms and hugged himself.

A figure then appeared.

To his dismay, it wasn't Beckham he had hoped for who appeared.

It was Bella in the red robe!

She hovered quietly a few steps behind him, her bright red robe almost blending into the shadows in the dim light, with only the hem fluttering slightly.

She's not the kind of person Harry wants to see right now.

She wasn't as gentle or approachable as Beckham; all she had was a burning rage that was always on the verge of exploding. Harry was terrified that he might accidentally ignite that flame and burn himself to a horrible degree.

Harry saw her in the mirror, and his heart clenched. This woman terrified him more than the pain he was in.

He turned around almost instantly, his movements faltering due to his weakness and sudden tension, and he nearly lost his balance.

He looked at her, his throat tightened, and he couldn't speak.

The anticipation I felt when I called out to Beckham just now has completely vanished.

Harry dared not harbor any illusions that he would be comforted by this madman.

"Bella...Bella," Harry's voice was hoarse as he tried to sound respectful while desperately forcing a smile. But the smile looked strange and strained because of his inner fear. "How...how did you get out here?"

Harry had already learned from Beckham that his sister possessed Saint-level power. Coupled with her previous display of inhuman coldness and rage, aside from death itself, Harry could say that she was now his greatest fear.

But Harry's flattery had little effect.

Bella in her red robes hovered there, her dark red eyes fixed on his strangely forced smile, a mocking grin playing on her lips.

"Beckham? It sounds like you don't want to see me."

"How could that be?" Harry shook his head quickly, his words quickening. "Right now... right now, you're the one I want to see most."

"Oh?" Bella in the red robe smiled even more broadly. "Then tell me, why do you want to see me?"

Seeing the woman's smile, Harry felt a chill run up his spine.

He recalled that the woman had suddenly appeared during his previous conversation with the goddess. He guessed that perhaps she had responded to what the goddess had said.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice, and unconsciously straightened his already heavy chest, as if this would give him some confidence.

"My conversation with the goddess... has left me with many questions," he said, carefully choosing his words, his eyes lowered, not daring to look directly at her. "I think only you... can help me figure it out."

Upon hearing this, Bella in the red robe suddenly moved.

She floated forward, instantly closing the distance, hovering just half a step away from Harry. This distance allowed Harry to more clearly feel the oppressive chill emanating from her.

"Oh?" She tilted her head slightly, her blood-red pupils locking onto Harry's eyes at close range, her voice low, "So you think... I'll help you?"

The immense pressure made Harry feel like his heart was about to burst out of his chest, and his throat tightened. "No, no, no..." he quickly denied, his voice trembling with tension, "Of course I don't have such... such unrealistic thoughts."

Bella in her red robes slowly bent down, her beautiful yet cold face drawing closer to Harry's; he could almost feel her icy breath. "So you think…" she said, her voice laced with a distinct amusement, "that I won't help you?"

Harry's forehead was covered in a fine layer of cold sweat, his teeth began to chatter uncontrollably, and his voice trembled: "No... I just... I just..." He stammered, his mind blank, unable to find any suitable answer.

The smile on Bella's face vanished instantly, and her voice suddenly turned stern: "Just what? Speak!"

Harry was terrified. He knew that if he answered incorrectly again, he would likely have to endure the same excruciating pain he had suffered before.

To say she will help me? No. To say she won't help me? That's also not true.

That damn woman is just messing with him!

"I'm just... confused, Bella." He forced himself to look up, staring at her face so close to his, only then could he determine if she would listen to what he was saying. "The goddess wants me to help her find the bracelet, and I don't know... I don't know if I should, or rather, if it's even necessary to help her. I'd like to... please give me your guidance."

"Fool!" Red-robed Shell straightened his body and floated back a little, and the oppressive feeling also weakened.

Her words were tinged with obvious impatience: "Whether you help her or not is completely unimportant."

Harry then felt the suffocating feeling in his chest ease a little. He subconsciously let out a sigh of relief and raised his hand to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead with trembling fingers.

The danger seems to have temporarily passed.

But he didn't understand the answer at all.

"It doesn't matter at all?" he repeated, puzzled, his brows furrowed.

"Of course it doesn't matter." Bella in the red robe spoke impatiently, as if she were tolerating his dullness, but unusually, she continued to explain, "Whether you agree to her or not is unimportant. Whether you are willing to genuinely help her is also unimportant. It's enough that she told you about it. The outcome was already decided."

This puzzled Harry greatly.

During his conversation with the goddess, Harry sensed that she desperately wanted his help, which was why she had contacted him through Veranika. Harry also suspected that Veranika's effusive praise of the goddess might have been at the goddess's behest.

The goddess tried her best to leave Harry with an impression of kindness, and she intentionally or unintentionally talked about things that made her seem very benevolent, such as "water purification groups" and "porridge distribution meetings".

She was very friendly during the conversation, trying her best to eliminate the estrangement between her and Harry, and took the initiative to reveal those sealed secrets to Harry, even going so far as to say things like "magicians and sorcerers should live in harmony," which is a betrayal of the church camp.

She desperately wanted to evoke Harry's sympathy, and tears welled up in her eyes. To make Harry feel her grief, she even wore all black and a black handkerchief.

She seemed to believe in Alexander's prophecy, but when she had a choice, and when Harry was willing to talk to her, she still tried her best to hope that Harry would genuinely want to help her.

All of this only proves one thing:

That bracelet was very important to her, extremely important, to a degree that Harry could hardly imagine. It was so important that she was willing to set aside her identity as a goddess and even temporarily abandon her faith, just hoping that Harry would pity her and be willing to help her.

But now, this red-robed Bella says that it doesn't matter whether he agrees or not, whether he's willing to help her or not; all he needs to do is tell her about it.

This was something Harry simply couldn't understand.

Also, what does she mean by "the ending was already decided"?

"However," Bella in red spoke again, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

For a rare moment, a look of pity appeared on her usually angry face, though it vanished in an instant. "It's good to agree to her. At least... she'll feel more hopeful." She paused, her voice lowering. "She's quite pitiful too."

Harry keenly noticed her expression and his eyes widened in surprise.

He hadn't expected that this woman, who seemed to possess only anger and indifference, would reveal such a humane side.