1302: Chapter 88: Pannis’s Nostalgia 1302: Chapter 88: Pannis’s Nostalgia “Snap,” Pannis set down the ink pen, pinching the corner of the paper, and blew the newly written lines dry.
After rereading the letter to make sure nothing was omitted, he carefully folded the paper and placed it neatly in an envelope, positioning it precisely in the center of the desk.
Having done all this, Pannis sighed deeply, putting everything on the desk back in its place and erasing his last traces.
He looked around the room that had been his haven for over three years one last ti and whispered his final farewell, “It’s ti to leave now, goodbye, I believe that one day, you will welco a new master.”
He opened the wardrobe, shouldered the backpack that had been prepared earlier, and took out the ancient one-handed sword.
The mont Pannis gripped the hilt, it felt as if there was a blood connection, as though the lifeless weapon was sending out joyful throbs of excitent.
The long sword, silent for over a hundred years and unused, seed to be cheering and leaping, eager for the sight of fresh blood and death, longing for the thrill of battle once again.
Pannis gently patted the scabbard as if calming an excited child.
As he soothed it, the trembles and yearnings at the sword’s grip gradually subsided, but a faint, lingering excitent still emanated from the blade.
He pushed open the door, and beyond it lay the dark corridor.
Pale blue moonlight stread through the floor-to-ceiling windows along the corridor, casting a hazy light.
Treading lightly on the blue moonlight, Pannis moved as quietly as a cat, making no sound.
However, instead of heading straight away, he leisurely wandered the second-floor corridor with hands behind his back, pausing at each door, gazing lost in thought.
The nas were no longer displayed on the doors, instead, cute patterns representative of personal belongings had replaced the caricature portraits used in past years.
On one door plaque, an anthropomorphic sword and shield were depicted; the shield, head bowed, was kneeling on the ground covering its ears while the sword stood opposite, hands on hips, seemingly delivering a lengthy lecture.
One could tell at a glance that this was Catherine’s room.
In a daze, Pannis seed to see Catherine’s face again, scolding her playful sisters like an older sister, arguing tirelessly with vendors over a few copper coins, organizing accounts in her room at night, shield raised in front determined, her face flushing with shyness, and finally, blending into a face that joyfully and bashfully declared, “We’re ho.” Such is the knightly girl, silently bearing the heavy burden of the entire household on her shoulders, yet she still maintained her joy, striving to provide a sky for her sisters.
The next door plaque bore no weapons, only a tal puppet with a round body and limbs that barely reached the ground, one wondered if it moved by rolling.
Beneath the puppet, a line of small text read: “This isn’t at all.” Ha, undoubtedly, this must be Freya’s room.
The princess always acted naive, though turmoil swirled inside her, when with her family, she preferred pretending ignorance, frolicking with the girls.
Yet in reality, she might have been another sister, lurking in the shadows, protecting the ho in her unique way, and with broad shoulders, helping Catherine uphold this joyful world.
On the third door plaque was a personified hamr wearing glasses, the hamr extending its arms and holding hands in a circle with a few similarly personified books, as if happily dancing.
Ever since eting Betty again, Lina seed to have unlocked all her shackles and discarded all her psychological burdens.
This whimsical girl finally began trying to let go of her friends’ hands and rely on her own strength to connect with the world.
From that mont, the priestess was truly able to stand behind her sisters, becoming their support, sharing the pain and difficulties together, instead of needing to grow under their protection as before.
The fourth door plaque featured a magic staff that was floating in the air, chasing a chubby little figure in front of it; below the figure, there were also lines of text, no, to be precise, two lines of text.
The first line read: “So this is you,” and the second line read: “Ptui.” No explanation was needed—this had to be Vivian’s room.
Nobody knew why Vivian had beco an existence akin to Freya’s archenemy, nor why Freya was always bullied by Vivian.
However, for this little sister who had suffered much tornt and finally regained her health and happiness, who had finally escaped from the shadow of death and no longer needed to worry whether she would see the sun rise the next day, everyone was filled with affection, unable to bear seeing her suffer any grievances, healthy or not.
Being the youngest sister, Vivian didn’t take this for granted but made the utmost effort to reciprocate her sisters’ love through her actions.
The fifth door plaque bore an ivory-white comb.
Seeing this comb, Pannis instinctively wanted to reach out to catch it.
However, halfway through the motion, Pannis stopped and gave a bitter smile as he stared at his outstretched hand.
He had to admit, habit was a terrifying thing; sotis, once a habit was ford, changing it beca extrely difficult.
When had he beco the designated hair-combing servant for a synthetic girl?
Why, though he t Ava with the other girls, did Ava particularly like to cause trouble with him and cling to him?
Was it because he was the first outsider to point out she had developed a consciousness of her own?
Was it due to an imprinting syndro?
Pannis couldn’t find the answers to these questions, nor did he need to find them anymore.
After all, it wasn’t so bad, it was just a pity…
The night at the mansion was silent, silent like the deep night sky, with only the uniform breathing of the girls passing through the doors to Pannis’ ears.
The happy girls must be wandering through cheerful dreams at this ti where there was no helplessness, no parting, only eternal gatherings, only joyful days.
I hope you can be as happy as you are in your dreams every day, forever.
With these self-deceptive thoughts, Pannis silently and slowly walked down the stairs to the familiar hall of the mansion.
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