books44 Chapter 370 [Empire] Black Candle of Longing
Chapter 370 [Empire] Black Candle of Longing
I stopped in my tracks, my heart beating faster.
In the black fog, the little girl appeared exceptionally frail and lonely. She crouched on the ground, seemingly swallowed by the darkness. She wore a blue and white princess dress, the hem of which swayed gently in the breeze, bringing a discordant touch of life to the deadly darkness. Her hair was disheveled, her face blurred, and only a pair of bright eyes could be seen, gleaming through the thick fog like a lost star in the night.
What shocked me most was the box of matches she clutched tightly in her hand. Next to her, an extinguished match lay on the ground, clearly having been recently lit. The flames of the Black Candle Beast had been ignited by this tiny spark.
I suddenly felt a chill run down my spine, as if I understood something, yet also understood nothing. This little girl was clearly inextricably linked to all this chaos.
"She..." I whispered, hardly able to believe my eyes.
Nightingale also paused, her expression becoming more serious. "She doesn't look like an enemy, but rather... the source of the loss of control."
I walked towards the little girl, each step feeling incredibly heavy. The black fog thickened around her, almost burying her in the darkness, as if she were the very center of it. Perhaps the Black Candle Beast had been awakened because of her.
"What's wrong with you?" I couldn't help but ask, my voice trembling a little.
The little girl didn't answer, but simply looked down at the matchbox in her hands. There was no life in her eyes, only a deep sense of emptiness. She didn't even seem to raise her head, just sitting there silently, the matchbox in her hands was soaked, exuding an indescribable sadness.
"Can you...can you stop?" I tried to communicate with her again, trying to make her realize the danger.
However, she remained silent, as if completely unaware of what she was causing. Her gaze remained fixed on the matchbox, and as she remained silent, the black fog around her seemed to gather more and more, becoming heavier and denser.
"She doesn't know what she's doing," Nightingale whispered. "Perhaps the existence of these black candle beasts... was caused unconsciously by her. Perhaps she simply has no ability to control the power of these flames."
A wave of sadness washed over me. This little girl clearly had some deep connection with these strange beasts, yet she seemed completely unaware that she was destroying everything around her. Her ignorance and helplessness filled me with an indescribable pity.
I squatted down gently and tried to get closer to her, but with every step I took, the pressure in the black fog became heavier, as if an invisible force was preventing me from getting close to her.
"Little girl..." I spoke again, trying to make my tone sound gentle and calm, "Can you hear me?"
This time, the little girl finally raised her head. A hint of confusion flashed in her eyes, and she looked at me with some bewilderment, as if she didn't understand why this stranger in front of her was paying so much attention to her.
She didn't speak, her eyes still empty, yet with a hint of vulnerability. Something in me stirred, a feeling that she wasn't completely unconscious, but rather that some deeper trouble was weighing on her.
"I... I can help you." I held out my hand, my tone firm. "You don't want to hurt anyone, right? You don't want to see these monsters continue to attack, do you?"
She lowered her head slightly, looking at the matchbox she was holding tightly. After a long while, she finally spoke, her voice so soft that it was almost inaudible: "I... I don't want to... I don't want to..."
Her voice was filled with endless sadness and powerlessness, as if she was struggling in pain. I saw a tear flash in her eyes, but she still held the box of matches tightly, refusing to let go.
"Put it down." I reached out and gently took her hand. "You don't need it. You don't need to keep these fires."
The little girl trembled slightly, a trace of struggle flashed in her eyes, but she still did not let go of the matchbox in her hand. Her lips trembled slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but no sound came out.
I suddenly realized that this wasn't just a matter of the matches. It was something deep inside her that was driving her.
"You are not alone." I gently comforted her, "We are here, we will help you solve this problem."
At that moment, I felt as if I had touched the depths of her heart, as if some invisible barrier had been broken. Her hand loosened slightly, and the matchbox slipped gently from her grasp and fell to the ground.
Her vision gradually cleared, and the black mist began to dissipate with her breathing. The attacks of the black candle beasts also stopped, as if their power came from her, and when they lost her control, they also stopped moving.
"You did great," I whispered, patting her head gently, trying to make her feel safe and warm.
Nightingale stood nearby, watching all this with complicated eyes, and seemed to understand the mystery.
"The Black Candle Beasts... perhaps they aren't inherently evil," Nightingale whispered. "They are simply the embodiment of a certain power, perhaps with some unspeakable connection to the little girl's emotions and consciousness."
I nodded and my heart calmed down.
But something unexpected happened. The girl suddenly picked up the matchbox, screaming and roaring, "You are liars! All of you!" She grabbed a handful of matches and was about to light them: "Mom told me to wait for her in the park! As long as the candle is burning out, Mom will come back! I don't want to believe it anymore!"
My eyes widened, my heart tightening, and I barely had time to react. The little girl's voice was filled with pain and anger, and her movements were swift and intense, as if seized by some irresistible emotion. The moment she grabbed a match and lit it, the entire black fog seemed to come alive.
The flames instantly illuminated the surrounding darkness, and the black candle beasts exploded in size. As the match in her hand ignited, the beasts' flames seemed to be ignited, and their bodies began to expand violently. The black humanoid beasts, which had previously been merely dripping liquid, now became even larger and more violent, with flames splashing everywhere, like countless burning candlesticks shaking wildly.
"Quick! Back off!" Nightingale suddenly shouted, and he grabbed my hand and stepped back.
But I still couldn't look away. I saw despair and frenzy flickering in the little girl's eyes. She kept throwing matches into the flames, as if trying to keep alive what she called "hope" by lighting every match—her wait for her mother, her reliance on that promise. With each match lit, the Black Candle Beast grew stronger, the flames engulfing the surroundings, the aura of danger growing stronger.
"You don't understand! Mom said! As long as the candle is not extinguished, Mom will come back!" Her voice trembled but was full of despair.
My heart ached.
This little girl, burdened with an immense weight of faith, holds a matchbox as her only connection to her mother. Her world is ripped apart by the burning of these "candles." She stubbornly defends her beliefs, unaware that all this is merely a reflection of the unbearable pain deep within her heart.
"What is she doing?" Nightingale frowned, her eyes filled with worry. "These matches bring more than just power... She might completely lose control."
I took a deep breath, realizing the situation was far more serious than I'd imagined. Deep within this little girl lay an unspeakable tangle of emotions, and these tangle were causing the catastrophe around her. Her emotions, no longer under control, transformed into this black mist, this flame, these raging beasts.
I had to stop her. Otherwise, the whole city could be engulfed in this uncontrolled sea of fire.
I took a step forward, silently saying to myself, "I must help her. I can't let her continue to suffer this pain."
"Stop!" I yelled, my voice filled with undeniable determination. "This isn't your fault! Mom won't come back because of this fire! She won't..."
The little girl's eyes suddenly grew empty, and she nearly crushed the matchbox in her hands. She turned back to look at me, her eyes filled with anger and fear. "You lied to me! You all lied to me! Mom said she'd come back as long as the candle wasn't burnt out!" Her voice began to tremble, clearly unable to bear the immense emotional pressure. Tears began to blur her vision.
Instead of retreating, I walked towards her more determinedly.
No matter how much she doesn't understand, I must let her know: she doesn't need this fire, she doesn't need to exchange pain for anything.
"She won't come back," I whispered, trying to keep my voice gentle. "She won't come back just because you started this fire. You have to stop so she won't worry about you. You can't let this fire burn you and the world."
Her body stiffened slightly, and there was a hint of confusion in her eyes, as if touched by my words. The firelight flickered in her eyes, and she began to stagger, as if she was caught in some kind of struggle, as if she was opening her eyes for the first time to look at the world in the firelight.
The matchbox made a slight sound in her hand, and a few matches fell to the ground, and the extinguished flames made a slight hiss.
"Stop..." I started again, my tone soothing. "You don't need to light these fires again. You are no longer alone, and you don't need to rely on this fire to protect anything."
Her breathing became increasingly rapid, and tears finally flowed. The little girl began to slowly lower the matchbox in her hand, as if she had finally understood something. As her movements slowed, the flames of the surrounding black candle beasts began to weaken, and their bodies began to shrink, becoming less violent.
However, at this moment, the flames suddenly expanded violently, and the Black Candle Beast swung its huge body violently again, spewing out fierce flames. The little girl's eyes suddenly became desperate, and she wanted to grab the matchbox again.
"No! Don't light it again!" I rushed over and held her hand tightly.
She struggled and cried, "Mom promised me! She will come back! She will come back..."
I looked at her tears and pain. At that moment, it was as if all the sorrow was frozen in her eyes. I knew that this was not just an obsession with her mother, but also a flame burning for the endless pain and despair she had accumulated.
"She can't come back, but you can let it go." I held her hand tightly, my eyes firm. "Let go of it all, let go of these flames, let go of your fears and obsessions. You deserve better, a better life, better everything."
The little girl's struggle gradually ceased, her hand gradually loosening its grip on the matchbox, her eyes becoming hollow yet deep. The flames seemed to have finally died down.
"You're going to be okay," I whispered to her, "You won't be alone anymore."
As her emotions gradually cooled, the Black Candle Beast's flames stopped surging and slowly died out.