HCB Chapter 623 Angel
Chapter 623 Angel
Those little figures exuded a holy light, their wings flapping gently, swaying up and down rhythmically, causing the surrounding air to form tiny vortices.
They kept changing their positions around the statue of St. John, sometimes rising collectively to the bottom of the dome, and sometimes dispersing and slowly descending. Every step they moved cast a soft halo of light, coating the stone pillars, floor tiles and murals in the southeast corner of the church with a layer of warm gold.
As the halo flows, even the dust particles floating in the air are clearly visible, like tiny gold-plated particles slowly sinking and floating in the beam of light.
"Is this a goblin?"
This thought flashed through John's mind for a moment, and then he shook his head.
He remembered that the fairies depicted in Berserk had clear facial features, pointed ears, lively eyes, and slender limbs.
These little guys have bald heads and completely smooth curved faces. Moreover, their bodies are obviously more solid, with slightly bulging round bellies. When they fly, their bodies sway from side to side more obviously than a human baby learning to walk.
John walked towards the statue of St. John, his leather boots making crisp sounds on the marble tiles of the church.
The little light people immediately noticed the movement, and the formation that was originally circling around the statue instantly dispersed. More than a dozen little guys flapped their wings and quickly rose into the air, gathering above John's head.
They flew very low, so close that John could see the fine lines on their wings. They were not flaky structures like bird feathers, but translucent membranes like cicada wings, with golden veins as thin as hairs distributed on them, which glowed faintly as they flapped.
"Your Majesty, Saint John!"
An old voice came from the front. The old man kneeling in front of the statue of St. John suddenly took two quick steps, staggered to John, and fell to his knees with a "thump". The dull sound of his knees hitting the stone bricks was clearly audible.
His gray hair stood up in a disheveled mess, his face was wrinkled with excitement, and his hands were on the ground but he couldn't stop shaking.
"I'm glad to see you at last."
The old man raised his head, his cloudy eyes were filled with tears, and his voice was obviously choked with sobs.
John knelt down on one knee and reached out to support the old man's elbow:
"What do you want?"
"Nothing serious."
The old man raised his head, his eyes moving back and forth between John and the surrounding light objects.
"Before, I had only read about the deeds of living saints in holy books, and heard pilgrims talk about seeing miracles, but now that I've lived to this age, I've visited so many holy places..."
He shook his head, his Adam's apple rolling up and down.
"I've never seen one in person. Today I finally saw one alive, a living saint surrounded by angels!"
When he said the last sentence, his voice rose unconsciously, like a child who had discovered a rare treasure.
"Angel?"
John looked down at the nearest little light figure and gently poked its smooth head with his fingertips.
Unexpectedly, the little guy not only did not dodge, but instead took the initiative to move closer. The warmth from his body came through his fingertips, and it was as warm as being close to a fireplace in winter.
John pinched its cheek again. It felt more elastic than he had imagined, like freshly baked bread dough, which would slowly bounce back after being pressed.
This discovery intrigued John. He opened his arms and carefully embraced a small light figure that rested on his shoulder. He lifted it up like a fragile glass work and turned to the stunned old man.
"Would you like to try touching an angel?"
"Is this...is this okay?"
The old man's pupils suddenly dilated and his lips opened and closed tremblingly.
His skinny fingers were suspended in the air, as if he was afraid of disturbing some precious treasure, and even his breathing became rapid and heavy.
"of course can."
John said, and at the same time, the angel in his hand opened its tender arms and made a hugging gesture towards the old man.
The old man stretched out his hands tremblingly, and the moment his fingertips touched the little light man, his whole hands suddenly froze.
The little light figure seemed to have sensed something and took the initiative to rub against the old man's palm. The light emitted from its body suddenly intensified, turning from soft warm yellow to bright white.
The old man took a deep breath. His devout faith made him think that it was a miracle, and he subconsciously hugged the little light man in his arms.
The next second, his tense body visibly relaxed, and a warm breath emanated from the old man's arms, invisible but real.
John noticed that the old man's fingers, which had originally been purple due to the cold, were now gradually regaining their color; his hunched back was no longer tense, his shoulders slowly sank, and his whole body seemed to be injected with vitality.
What was even more surprising was that the old man had his eyes closed, with tiny drops of water rolling down from the corners of his eyes, wetting the front of his shirt.
"I...I think I saw it."
The old man's voice trembled slightly, but it was no longer as weak as before.
"I saw my father carrying me on his shoulders to go to the market when I was little, and my mother baking apple pie in the kitchen..."
His fingers unconsciously tightened around the base of the little light man's wings, and the membrane there undulated slightly with his movements.
"Then they left, and I thought I'd never remember those days again."
As time passed, the light of the little light man in the old man's arms gradually became softer.
The originally plump body seemed to have shrunk a little, and the frequency of the wings flapping also slowed down.
When the old man finally let go of his hand, the little light figure was like a lamp that had run out of power. The light all over his body dimmed, leaving only a circle of faint light at the edge.
It flapped its wings gently and flew to the right shoulder of the statue of St. John, carefully lying in the concave folds of the statue's clothes, like a tired bird returning to its nest.
At the same time, the light emitted by the statue of St. John suddenly intensified, and countless golden threads emerged from the forehead, palms and corners of the statue's robe, converging towards the little light man as if they had life.
The rays of light wrapped around the little light man and penetrated into its body bit by bit. The originally dim wings became transparent and light again, and the body gradually regained its full outline.
"So that's it."
John finally cleared his mind. He looked at the revived little light figure, then at the light flowing from the statue. A clear conclusion emerged in his mind: these little creatures radiating holy light were not fairies or angels in the traditional sense, but special beings formed by the energy of divine grace.
This energy can be released in the form of light, creating magic-like special effects, and can also be directly absorbed by the human body and transformed into a power to heal the body and mind.
He turned to look at the still sobbing old man, who now looked at least twenty years younger.
The age spots on the face have faded a lot, and a few strands of black hair have emerged from the roots of the white hair, shining with a healthy luster in the sunlight.
The old man clutched the front of his shirt tightly, as if he had grasped some precious treasure, but tears could not stop flowing:
"Your Majesty, I feel a lot younger now... Bending over the years was difficult, but now my shoulders don't hurt at all."
John patted the old man's shoulder gently and glanced at the monks and deacons around him who also had awe on their faces.
"Take this old man to rest."
John instructed the monk beside him.
"Prepare him some hot food."
His gaze returned to the statue of St. John. The little light figures, now active again, were dancing swiftly around the statue, like a group of elves guarding a treasure.