Simulated Lives: The Sorrow of the Sword Maiden-Chapter 46 – When happiness begins, sadness is already on a countdown

Disaster struck.
Without any warning.
Without any sign.
In an instant, the once clear blue sky was consumed by terrifying magic.
It was a hellish scene, with countless deep red fire meteors appearing out of nowhere, like an endless sea of blood, staining the entire sky a despairing, deep crimson.
"Hiss—hiss—"
The sky fire hissed.
In her ears, before her eyes, was the horrifying sight of a meteor shower plummeting from high above.
Buildings were continuously reduced to ruins.
Countless people cried out in terror for help in the face of death.
No time to think.
Before the witch could figure out what was happening, her body acted on its own, like a moth drawn to a flame, rushing towards the fireballs approaching the courtyard.
She waved her magic wand.
Casting magic.
"Water's Protection!!!"
It was all in vain.
How could a feeble moth shake the fierce flames?
The Water Magic, unleashed with all her might, even draining the reserve magic power in her wand, was effortlessly shattered by the meteors.
Krisa failed.
Utterly and completely failed.
She could only watch helplessly as the meteors fell, unable to do anything!
"Boom—", a deafening roar echoed, shaking the heavens.
The flames descending from the sky brought destruction, the instant explosion's shockwave unleashed countless impacts, and the courtyard filled with countless cherished memories collapsed and vanished in an instant.
Even Krisa herself was flung a great distance by the shockwave.
She collided, rolled, and finally stopped against a brick wall.
Pain, excruciating pain.
The witch fell to the ground, her body engulfed in endless agony, every bone wailing, every muscle tearing and bleeding.
The struggle, the torment, made the 16-year-old witch almost unable to breathe.
But.
But…
But oh but.
Compared to the pain in her chest, in her heart, the heartache tearing at her sanity, the physical pain was nothing.
It was true despair, just imagining it threatened to shatter her very being!
"Mentor..."
Amidst the burning brick ruins, black smoke billowed, dust flew.
The young witch staggered to her feet.
Her eyes remained hollow, her face expressionless, yet inexplicably, there was a hint of urgency and panic.
She grabbed her once exquisite, now chipped magic wand, casting magic once more.
"Wind Control."
A voice calm yet trembling echoed, and the wind elements enveloped Krisa again, lifting her injured body with difficulty, flying towards the direction of the courtyard explosion.
The previous explosion's shockwave had flung Krisa far away.
Thus, she had to make her way back.
The journey wasn't long, very short indeed, but for the injured Krisa, it seemed like an endless chasm.
Burning houses, collapsed ruins, and countless dead and injured ordinary people.
This was all the witch saw.
It was tragic, terrifying.
She sped up towards the courtyard.
Suddenly, the witch's body was wracked with intense pain, interrupting her Wind Control spell.
She fell heavily from the sky, rolling several times on the ground, her clothes tattered, her delicate skin covered in abrasions.
Face, hands, legs... every wounded place looked incredibly miserable.
Her blurred flesh was filled with gravel and dust.
But the witch didn't care.
"Mentor, mentor, mentor..."
She muttered these words, her gaze pure, focusing only on the burning ruins in the distance, striving to get closer.
If magic was useless, she'd walk.
If she couldn't walk, she'd crawl.
She must.
She must see him again.
With this belief, Krisa struggled to stand once more, ignoring the lost magic wand, staggering towards the courtyard.
Her mind was solely concerned with Xu Xi's safety.
He must not be hurt, must not die, must not have any mishaps.
Not even a scratch was acceptable.
The girl would not allow such a thing to happen.
Even someone as lowly as her, a discarded failure, could survive in this world, how could someone as warm as the sun just die like this?
Ah...
Ah ah ah...!
Just imagining such a thing made her heart contract violently, transmitting a pain that made the girl tremble.
"Faster, faster... not fast enough..."
Krisa quickened her pace.
This sudden acceleration caused her injured body to lose balance, tumbling to the ground.
But it didn't matter, such things were irrelevant now.
Ignoring the intense pain in her legs from falling, ignoring the scratches on her cheeks from small stones, ignoring her body starting to convulse unknowingly.
The witch continued forward.
Falling, then getting up, falling again, then getting up again.
Finally, after rounding a large piece of collapsed building debris, she saw the courtyard she longed to reach.
No longer the serene beauty of the past.
No lush flowers and trees.
And no longer the one person she cared about.
All she saw was a blazing inferno, a ruin devoid of any familiar memories, even the sturdiest Meditation Chamber inside was shattered.
Flames surged, smoke rose high, spreading outward, and the hot wind blowing against her face dried her skin.
Deathly silence.
Nothing remained.
Yes, nothing remained.
"Thud—"
As if all strength was drained from her body in an instant.
Krisa suddenly stopped, her legs giving way, collapsing to her knees, staring blankly at the distant ruins, the firelight reflecting on her face, scorching yet cold.
Her gaze remained indifferent.
For she was a witch who knew not joy or sorrow, devoid of emotions.
But, within that beautiful, fragile shell, within that lonely, timid soul, was there truly no emotion at all?
Krisa didn't know.
For the only one who could answer, the only one who could give the witch courage, the sun, was no longer visible.
Ah, why is this...
The young witch knelt there, her eyes even more hollow, watching the blazing courtyard, trying to find answers in the raging sea of flames.
Why was it that her master died, yet she, the "personal item," still lived?
Why couldn't she have been faster, tried harder to block that fireball?
Why couldn't it have been her who died instead?
Why... is this...
Without her master, the item had no reason to exist; without the sun, the witch had no future; without that warm gaze, Krisa couldn't take another step forward.
Her body, her soul, continued only because of that person's existence.
If that person no longer existed, even if the witch survived, life would be meaningless.
"......"
The witch trembled, reaching out to clutch her chest.
Feeling that overwhelming sorrow.
So.
She too.
Could feel sadness.