Has the Holy Son been sacked by the Devil Emperor today?

Looking at Miller's leaving back, Feng Xijue seemed to have not recovered from his senses. The person who had just talked to him was his father and the man Cecil had been looking for all his life.

Miller is not very attached to love, and the God of Light gave him life again, asking him to guard the fading faith in Light.He just wanted to see his lover and children from his previous life.

No matter how much Cecil couldn't let go of his obsession with Miller, he couldn't hold onto Miller anymore.

The Holy Magister Miller finally returned to the ruined temple in the Passo Mountains alone.

When he heard the news of Miller's departure, Cecil was naturally flustered. He even kept thinking about whether he had angered Miller. The Devil Emperor would not dare to force Miller to return to him. .

"Where did Miller go before he left? Did he behave abnormally?" The Devil Emperor supported his head in distress, and asked the soldier kneeling in front of him with displeasure.

"Your Majesty, before that...Master Miller went to see the blond-haired human race you brought back." The soldier lowered his head and replied submissively.

"What?" The Devil Emperor frowned slightly, and his eyes gradually sank following his expression.

The soldier watched His Majesty the Devil Emperor walk out aggressively, and he trembled slightly.

-

Feng Xijue was startled by the sound of the door slamming, and the water glass he was holding dropped in response. He turned his head to look at the man who walked in in astonishment.

It was Cecil, who had been out of sight for months.

"What the hell did you say to Miller?! He left me!" Cecil strode forward, tightly grasping the man's thin wrist, and asked in a cold voice.

"Don't be crazy, Cecil, I didn't say anything to him, and I didn't know he would leave."

"I don't love you, and I won't cause trouble for you. You love your Miller so much, you should drive me out of your palace! You have no right to ask me if I did anything to him, Ceci you."

Probably because he knew why Cecil came to trouble him, Feng Xijue shook off his hand impatiently, the resentment that had accumulated for a long time seemed to explode at the same moment as the confrontation with Cecil, and the depths of his crimson eyes fainted. Gleaming cold.

It had been a long time since Cecil had erupted in anger like this, and it was the first time that the furious Devil Emperor inflicted violence on the lover he once held in his heart.

Pure violence.

Cecil seemed to have gradually forgotten the little boy who called him Feilo when they met for the first time, and he had forgotten all about the young saint son who fell in love with him later.

He only knew that the current Feng Xijue was just a plaything for his feelings, he could imprison him for his own selfish desires, or beat him without hesitation for the sake of the white moonlight in his heart.

He also didn't realize that Feng Xijue, who had lost everything, became more and more contemptible in his heart.

When Camus returned to his master again, he was stunned by such a scene: his master shivered and curled up on the ground, almost half of his body was stained with blood, and those bright whip marks made people shudder!

"What's the matter with you!" Camus dropped the things in his hands in a panic, and he hurried over, gently lifted the man's cold body, and then leaned into his arms.

Camus could clearly see the red and swollen corners of the mouth and the bruised profile of the man.

The next day, Camus learned from the guard at the gate that all this was done by His Majesty. Camus knew very well that his undisputed master would not attack Lord Miller with words.

After that, Cecil never set foot in the palace again, and even banned everyone from going to the palace, including Camus, who began to worry about his master who was seriously injured and left unattended.

Since Camus left, the palace has been dead silent and dark, except for occasional low coughs.

Feng Xijue suffered from a serious illness. The torment of the illness made him lose a lot of weight, and there were still traces of bruises on his pale and sickly face. He could only lie on the bed every day, looking out the window quietly.

He remembered that there was a time when he was in the same pain, and then, there was a person sitting by the window, and he, who seemed irritable, would gently hug himself in his arms.

Feng Xijue was very thankful that he had left a good memory for himself back then.

Now, Qiongze should have a stable home of his own.

Thinking about it this way, Feng Xijue seemed to realize that he hadn't thought about Qiongze for a long time.

In the dark palace, only the sound of his own breathing could be heard. Feng Xijue stared blankly at the top of the bed. With two broken ribs, he couldn't even sit up, let alone light the lamp.

After going through so much, Feng Xijue didn't seem to have any self-pity and blaming mentality anymore, he closed his eyes and forced himself to fall asleep.

In the dark and silent night, a sudden black figure broke into this unattended palace, and the man's crimson eyes quickly locked on the sleeping person on the bed.

He hesitated for a moment, then took out the dagger on his waist.

So he walked over calmly.

"Elsa... sorry..." the black figure whispered, with a sense of helplessness and sadness hidden in his tone, the sharp dagger was already in his hand, and he stopped in mid-air with his arms hanging, the sharp sharp dagger The head seemed to be piercing the heart of the person on the bed in the next second.

His slightly trembling hand, still holding the dagger, hung in the air.

Just as he hesitated for a moment, the cold hand had already grasped his, and then he stabbed down forcefully with the dagger, he raised his hand in a panic, preventing the dagger from moving down.

That hand belonged to the sleeping Feng Xijue.

He slowly opened his eyes, his peaceful crimson eyes quietly looked at the person who wanted to assassinate him, and said, "Why didn't father stab him...?"

Facing those peaceful crimson eyes, Feng Luo snatched the dagger, and he walked aside and put the dagger in his arms.

"Tell me, is Miller resurrected and beside Cecil?" Feng Luo turned his back and stopped looking at him.

"He left...maybe he returned to the human race."

"If I don't kill you today, even if it's because I'm sorry for your mother, Feng Xijue, you asked for such a result, and you can't blame anyone."

The cold-blooded father slowly disappeared into the air.

Feng Xijue quietly looked at Ziyue outside the window, the soft moonlight made his eyes sore.

He really wanted to have a father, for example, who could give him a few words of comfort when he saw him in such a miserable state, although he didn't expect him to take himself out of here desperately.

Feng Xijue closed his eyes slightly, he was a little breathless in the oppressive silence of the palace.

[The author has something to say: The devil emperor's domestic violence!

Ahhh, this father really deserves a beating! He is simply an idiot, he has nothing but Miller in his eyes!]