Can the sadness that magic cannot take away be offset by love?

On the hospital bed, the gray-haired girl closed her eyes and slept peacefully, her skin looking pale and weak against the snow-white quilt and wall. A black cat with a blue bow tied to its tail coiled beside her hand, scratching the girl's chin with its tail from time to time, and finally even burying its tail in the girl's neck.

Albinia, who was sitting on a chair peeling an apple, finally couldn't bear it anymore. She put the apple cut into eight pieces and the dagger covered with sticky juice on the plate, wiped her hands with a handkerchief, then hooked out the black cat's tail, gently placed it next to the black cat's abdomen, and then stroked the black cat's back with a little force.

The black cat shrank its head, lay there obediently and stopped making any small movements.

The blond professor held her on his knees, picked up a piece of fruit with a toothpick and placed it in front of her.

While Albinia was feeding the black cat fruit, she shifted her gaze to the patient with pale lips. After a while, she turned her head towards the door and said:

"Come in and sit for a while. If you have anything to do, wait until she wakes up."

Behind the window by the door, Ernest had been standing behind the window for half an hour since she was taken to the ward.

In the meantime, Olivia hurried over and glanced at her a few times, casting unkind glances at him before entering and after leaving.

No one came over after Olivia.

Ernest lowered his eyes and shook his head as he did the previous times.

Albinia's expression didn't change much, she had always looked calm and calm, but the cat's head shook deeply, and those who didn't know thought it was a learning cat.

But the black cat is not an ordinary cat. Recently, she has been busy enough with the registration forms and other competition matters. Half an hour is already the limit for her to stay here. Before leaving, she rubbed Iris's face with her tail reluctantly. After waiting for a few seconds, the other party still didn't wake up. She "meowed" twice unwillingly, and finally left in a daze.

Not long after, Albinia's communication rang. She whispered a few words to the person on the other side of the screen, then stood up and said to Ernest at the door:

"If you're not busy, come in and keep an eye on her. If anything happens to her, call the nurse immediately—"

She hesitated for a moment and then spoke in a more solemn tone:

"Although the dean has just talked with you and agreed with you on matters such as review, compensation and apology - but I want to tell you, think twice before doing anything. Even if you are all students I have taught, if you let me I find you behave like today again..."

The Daisy Elf, who had lived for thousands of years and had never threatened anyone, was stuck here. Her eyelashes trembled up and down several times and she spoke harshly:

"I will do whatever I can to get justice for her, no matter who you are."

These words were already spoken very seriously. Albinia seemed to be in a hurry and walked very quickly. Ernest watched her leave, slowly turned around, pressed his palm on the window, and placed the other one beside him. His hands had been clenched for an unknown amount of time and were trembling slightly.

His mind replayed over and over again the scene where Iris Adela said "Can you please stand further away" - at that moment, her eyes were like a deep sea with an ice surface. There were already countless cracks beneath the ice, which could be torn apart and disintegrated by a sudden storm at any time. Her calm appearance was actually spread over one whirlpool after another, waiting to be completely swallowed up by the nothingness, leaving only emptiness.

And within this emptiness, buried was the lingering hatred that he was familiar with - exactly the same as the deep hatred hidden in her eyes when he let the electric current pass through her body and pierce her flesh with a dagger to force her to obey. The emotions in her eyes gradually changed from hatred and unwillingness to numbness and sadness.

At that time, he didn't take such emotions seriously.

Even though he knew she would one day turn her sword on him, after the need to "cooperate" was no longer there - he still didn't feel like she could actually do it.

It was not until the Lawrence incident that he quickly realized that the trajectory of his destiny had quietly shifted.

He couldn't remember when it started, but those scenes that he had clearly forgotten entered his mind over and over again, making him recall the evil deeds he had done to her over and over again.

He knew long ago that he was not a good man, and would never look back and pity his victims after the fact.

So why do those sour and painful thoughts arise? Is it because of guilt?

——He was unwilling to admit this, but in fact, he had already subconsciously understood the reason for his abnormality——

Guilt, guilt that I don’t know when it started, guilt that I shouldn’t have or have, endless, endless, and exhausting guilt.

Apart from this, there are absolutely no other factors hidden in it.

Absolutely not.

——He always restrains his thoughts and comes to conclusions arbitrarily when he knows that he should think deeply about the next step.

How ridiculous - a wicked person would actually reflect on his crimes.

As if possessed by a ghost, he looked at her sleeping face, stepped into the ward step by step, and walked to the bedside.

Just a look - he told himself.

The moment he approached her, Iris suddenly opened her eyes.

Ernest's pupils contracted instantly, and he subconsciously took two quick steps back, then suddenly bumped into the corner of the cabinet, making a distinct collision sound in the room where you could hear a pin drop.

Iris raised her eyelids and just saw the ceiling clearly. The next second she heard a sound, so she turned to look at the source of the sound.

Her eyes fell on Ernest. She stared at him for a few seconds, with no expression on her plain face.

Ernest had the urge to escape from the bottom of his heart, but his feet seemed to be rooted in place, too heavy to move.

After a while, Iris shifted her gaze and looked at the surrounding environment.

Her eyes swept over the fruit plate and dagger on the bedside table. After a while, she spoke calmly:

"Why are you standing so far away? Come here."

Under the thick quilt, she slowly turned her wrist.

Ernest didn't speak or move for a long time. Iris was not in a hurry, so she didn't rush him.

But he was quiet for too long, and Iris finally looked at him again and asked:

"Do you need me to ask you to help me up and get me a glass of water?"

Their usual communication was not like this.

She is not out of "abnormality" yet.

The moment he heard her words clearly, Ernest made a judgment almost immediately.

Almost at the same time, before his brain could come to a conclusion, he took a few steps towards her at a speed faster than he could react, and stopped beside her hand.

After he understood what happened, he just bit his lip with his teeth and instantly ignored all the warning signals transmitted to him by his brain through his nerves - he leaned down, his black hair cascading like running water, falling slightly messily on the snow-white quilt.

He tried to help her sit up.

Iris slowly moved her eyelids, and the hand closest to the fruit plate quickly picked up the dagger on it and stabbed it into his body from behind his shoulder.

This move almost exhausted all the strength she had accumulated. She moved with all her might, and after the dagger stabbed into his body, the dagger did not stop until the edge of her palm touched the back of his shoulder.

Blood spurted out, staining the pure whiteness as far as the eye could see, as well as his lips, which were as red as drops of blood.

Time seemed to stand still, and apart from the muffled groan at the beginning, he hardly made any sound.

They had been leaning against each other for a long time. From a distance, ignoring other elements, it looked like Iris was hugging him.

Iris gasped slightly due to the excessive force, her chest heaving. She loosened her hands and watched the shadow falling on her slowly sinking, and finally Ernest's body fell beside the bed.

His gaze never shifted from beginning to end, he looked into her eyes persistently.

Iris closed her eyes and rested for a while. When she recovered, Ernest heard her sneer:

"You won't be able to stand up and pour water, right?"

In the peripheral vision, the man's figure staggered, but he still stood up on the edge of the bed. Silently, he used his good hand to lift the kettle on the table, poured warm water into the cup, and then used his fingertips to pour the kettle into the cup. The water glass was pushed to the place closest to her.

Iris sat up by herself. Ernest took out a handkerchief and wiped the blood off her hand with his clean hand. Iris did not refuse.

He then cleaned up the other blood stains himself, pressed the call bell, and then used space magic to leave.

A few cleaning spells were enough to restore the place to its original spotless state. Iris held the cup and sipped the warm water, not looking at him again until he left.