Chapter Fifty-Eight

It's raining.

Loren Hill sat by the windowsill, with both hands on the table, chin resting on his arms, watching the raindrops falling from the sky. The thin raindrops fell on the slate, splashing water.

The sky outside the window is not bright, but it is not too dark. Occasionally, some raindrops blow into the house along the wind, sprinkle on the lacquer surface of the table, and fall on the exposed arm of the girl, bringing a cool touch.

There were bursts of water flowing in the courtyard under the attic. The clear rainwater flowed on the stone slabs, gathered into the drainage ditches on both sides of the courtyard, and rushed towards the exit of the wall with the fallen leaves.

Today, Loren Hill didn't practice or read books. It wasn't that he was tired or tired recently. He just wanted to rest.

The white and slender fingers slid across the window sill, making Roland Hill feel a cool moistness. Those wet dewdrops on the windowsill, under the sliding of the fingers, gathered together to form a larger dewdrop, and then a small irregular patch of water.

Ordinary things, a touch of happiness drifted through her heart. Then he leaned his head on his arm and watched the few dewdrops on his fingertips collide with each other and gather together.

The water dew gathered on the fingertips and became larger, then rolled down from the windowsill, and fell into the courtyard stone slab below. Together with many water droplets, it splashed into small puddles, and then mixed with the clear rainwater and flowed into the distance.

I didn't think about anything in my heart, just listening to the sound of the rain flowing, made people feel a touch of peace.

In fact, for many ordinary people, there are not such dramatic ups and downs in life, but more of this real and plain daily life.

Everyone spends this familiar time slowly, and occasionally find one or two sparkling stones on the side of the road, which is also a small joy in life.

The sound of raindrops still came from the tiles of the eaves, and then flowed down the grooves, forming small raindrops that shrank and fell into the fresh rain.

In the room in the attic, Roland Hill leaned on the table to take a quiet nap. Occasionally a drop of water or two fell on the back of the snow-white hand, and then slipped down the gap between the fingers, forming a small bridge between the table and the fingertips, moist. And cool.

On the wooden frame in the room, the two birds also leaned against each other, their feet tucked into their feathers, and they rested quietly. They only moved their beaks occasionally and blinked a few times, as if they were dreaming of something delicious.

——————

After choosing the sequence of practice, Roland Hill gradually entered a stable life and rest. On weekdays, he went to lectures according to the arrangement of the faction. After class, he and several other familiar companions practiced in the shaded open space. Occasionally listen to some gossip and tell interesting things about which disciples have happened recently.

In the eyes of many people, the Necronomicon sequence is a sequence that does not do good deeds. Because the practitioners in the past liked to do things like digging graves and manipulating corpses, in order to pursue fast and powerful, and this is indeed difficult for many ordinary people to accept.

However, with the recent practice, in the girl's view, this sequence is not all bad.

When judging whether something is alive or not, it is whether or not it will die.

A stone cannot die, so it cannot be called life.

What exactly life is, depends on the standard of its death.

Merely the flesh is alive, is it called life? Maybe not. For some intelligent creatures, it depends on whether its spirit is alive.

The concept of spiritual death may be a little unfamiliar, but there is a saying that many people have heard of, that is, "sorrow is greater than death of the heart".

The human spirit is not infinitely strong, and it can also be injured. These injuries come from oppression, bullying, oppression, false accusation, despair, and so on.

When the scar is shallow, the spirit can slowly heal itself over time, forget it, and return to its original state.

But when the injury is deep and touches the root, it may leave a shadow, or become a lifelong pain that cannot be relieved.

And when the scars continue to accumulate, have nowhere to release, and finally overwhelm everything, it will cause a collapse and bring people to a dark end. At this time, it may be called spiritual death.

Contrary to the angelic sequence that symbolizes stability, protection, and healing, the necromantic sequence explores the process of withering, the formation of spiritual and soul trauma, and the final destination and end of life.

The transformation of the corpse is only a small part of the branch, but this branch has developed so well that it obscures the color of other aspects.

The first thing to solve the problem is to recognize the existence of this problem, otherwise it will be impossible to talk about.

When Roland Hill deepened her understanding and practice of the necromantic sequence, she gradually discovered her little secrets.

Your own soul is not quite the same as that of ordinary people. One day, after waking up from her sleep, the girl sat on the bedside and pondered.

She looked at her hair, the ends of which seemed to be dyed a touch of silver, scattered on the white nightdress.

Ordinary people's souls are like fragile clouds. If they are impacted with violent extraordinary power, they will dissipate, resulting in amnesia or death.

The extraordinary will be much tougher, like a sponge, with a certain degree of toughness and close contact, which can resist some damage.

And her soul body is like a clear jelly, or like a transparent wind, connected at will, scattered at will, and then reunited again, as if not affected by the impact.

Spreading out his palm on the soft quilt, Roland Hill looked at his palm. Translucent light particles floated in the palm of his hand and aggregated like a cloud to form a small wave of transparent gradient, which then dissipated as a breeze. Then these translucent particles aggregated together to form transparent gems like glaze, reflecting sunlight, and sprinkled a gradient of color on the quilt

spectrum.

Is this the power of the undead sequence? It's really magical, as if the extension of the soul allows people to see another brand new world.

Roland Hill slowly realized the magic of the palm, which seemed to incorporate some of the characteristics of his own soul, which was different from the magic of other sequences.

With a light swipe of the fingers, these transparent water mist light particles also swayed, turning into a picture scroll in front of them. The picture scroll depicts a night with fireworks blooming. It was Emenas' winter festival party. A familiar friend sat together and watched the scene of the bright moon and starry sky.

Letis, Bumantha, Alena, Niya, Yeling, Wemiya, Lily, all familiar figures were talking and laughing beside her, noisily talking about recent interesting and happy things.

Thinking of those people a bit, Roland Hill whispered in his heart.

Then the picture changes again, and a sleeping girl appears in the picture scroll.

She has long hair, the color of which is crimson like flames, scattered around her body and between her collarbone. After opening her eyes, her pupils reveal a look of simplicity and dependence.

Where did Keti go? The girl recalled the scenery in her memory, but unfortunately, Keti seemed to be sleeping in the academy until the part she could remember.

Don't worry about this stupid guy, she is a Sequence 9 flame witch, much stronger than herself.

Shaking his head to cheer himself up, the hair in front of him shook as well. Roland Hill stepped off the bed, opened the wardrobe beside him, and looked for the clothes he was going to wear today.

Now that he has been promoted to Necronomicon Sequence 3, it is time to ask about the follow-up practice books.

Sitting in front of the dressing table, Roland Hill looked at the shiny bronze mirror, rolled up the long hair behind his head, tied the light blue ribbon given to her by Lefelica, tied it into a simple bow, and then tied the hair Put it down and land on the beautiful waist.

Today, she is wearing a blue and black dress, the main body is quiet black, and the sleeves, skirt, and waist belt are soothing soft blue.

Soft blue: Through 'rubbing blue' and 'moving blue', the stems and leaves of Polygonum japonica are dye materials, and the result of dipping and rubbing is "rubbing blue".

(Mountains move to blue in the light rain. - Huang Tingjian's "One of Five Songs with Li Caifu's Ancestor Quick Pavilion")

In the Feather Sect, there are also disciples who wear Western-style dresses, which is not uncommon, but it is relatively rare to wear such a fit like Roland Hill. And this dress is also sewn by herself in her spare time.

Thanks to Lefelica's teaching, Roland Hill learned how to dye, so that he can make clothes more in line with his own mind.

He stood up and put his body back on, looked in the mirror again, and after finishing his work, Roland Hill walked downstairs.

Today, she is going to go to Uncle Lianyin to inquire about the follow-up classics and matters.