Chapter 69 Death is nothing but rest for all living beings.

The girl with light golden hair knelt on the terrace of the mirror-like lake to pray.

If there were people who did not fall asleep at night, they would see this strange and beautiful scene.

What was she praying for?

Although she bowed her head, put her hands together, and lightly touched her fingertips with her lips, it felt like she was not worshiping any idol.

More like, mourning.

Or, mercy.

And the moon seemed to sense some kind of power, and when it turned out from the clouds again, it turned into a strange blood color.

The night of the blood moon began.

The girl stood up, and the blood-colored moonlight sprinkled on her body, but she didn't seem to feel stained red at all. On the contrary, she walked out of this blood color, like a newborn leaving the mother's body, and it seemed that even every hair became self-luminous and brand new.

She was getting rid of the characteristics of the King of the End and transformed into the 100% King of the Beginning.

Luna's toes touched the ground, and she shuddered slightly. Everything about her was new now, so she was too sensitive and tender.

The blood moon will use up all the power of the end in her body. Now she is in a form she has never seen before. She looked at the clear lake water, which reflected her appearance.

Her body has become light and translucent. She looked at her face, and her light pink fingertips touched the side of her eyes. Her eyes were covered with a thin layer of blue film, just like a new life.

As long as the blood moon ends smoothly, she will successfully break out of the cocoon and become a butterfly. The power of the King of the End will be used up, and she will become the King of the Beginning with a simple nature.

Then.

Her hand grasped the key hanging around her neck.

She held the key and prayed. She didn't know what she was praying for. She was not afraid of death. Death was just a rest for all living beings. She had long been aware of this.

And all living beings were just the fuel of the world. This was cruel and true. She once thought that this was no big deal. After all, the inner world, or the gaps in the world, followed such a set of rules. They could do anything to survive.

Prey as much as possible when you are stronger, and try not to be eaten when others are stronger.

However, they had not been able to return home successfully in the past thousand years.

This meant that this theory might be inaccurate.

Then she had to correct it.

They, or rather, fate, chose Sherlock Holmes to help her.

She kissed the key gently. This was what she had been seeking all her life, and she certainly had no regrets about it.

They had thought that this required some creatures from the other world, or the life energy of believers.

Luna had thought that these did not matter.

All living things are just the fuel of the world, aren't they?

So at first she thought that the gray-eyed man was arrogant, and dared to teach her something.

However, they had failed for a thousand years, so she allowed this arrogant guy to show off.

It might be necessary to recharge her life, and if it could increase the success rate, she would certainly do her part, but she had a problem.

"You are also likely to die," Luna said, "and whether you survive or not, you will not return to your hometown."

"Then didn't I also use someone else's life?" she asked.

"You can regard it as my investment in your will," the gray-eyed man replied, "because I believe you will succeed."

"Then I will give you the right to use my own life," he said, "now it is also your bargaining chip."

Luna looked into his eyes.

"So you will," she smiled, "increase my chances of success?"

"Yes," the gray-eyed man nodded, "I am not a sacrifice, or a sacrifice."

"That's great." Luna clapped her hands and showed strong approval, "That's really great."

"We will succeed." She grabbed his hand happily and said seriously.

Only success is the best reward for those who are willing to die, Sherlock Holmes thought.

Luna is not a human, but she has not lived for a long time, so she can still be considered a young king, so he felt a kind of sincere admiration.

He continued to move forward, he couldn't be much less determined than Luna.

The sound of the waterfall could be heard, and it was not far from the final battle. He touched his pocket. If he accidentally encountered Moriarty, he should leave his last words here.

So he lit a cigarette for himself, sat down, and tore off a page of notebook paper.

He suddenly realized a fact. If

he took one more step forward, he would be completely in the story, and he would never be able to return to his hometown and see his relatives and friends again.

This is the end of his story.

He didn't know if this story would be very popular. He couldn't help but smile. Maybe it would be so popular that readers would write letters like snowflakes asking Watson to resurrect him. He might

even be forced to write a return story.

It's a pity that he himself probably won't play the role.

The suicide note was easier to write than he thought. After all, they had said goodbye so solemnly before. This was just a piece of evidence presented to the police. He believed that McCoff would not let most of the people who deserved to die go.

Of course, there would always be some fish that slipped through the net.

So the so-called new world would probably not be perfect.

But since there are criminals, there will be detectives.

It would be good as long as they were a little happier than they are now. We can't always ask too much of human beings.

He finished writing the suicide note and folded it up. He scratched it vigorously with his fingernails to make the paper look more regular and neat, then he put down his trekking pole and pressed the note with the heavy iron head.

He didn't need the trekking pole anymore.

He raised his head high, took a few deep breaths, and continued to move forward.

But Moran didn't follow him.

Moran finally chose to duel with Sean. He was called away in the tavern and received a telegram reminding him not to return to Britain in the near future.

"Mycroft is closing in."

He understood that he could only duel with Sean, otherwise he would have no way to survive.

He must win this duel, meet up with Moriarty, and kill Sherlock Holmes, only then can he reverse the situation. Following Mirabeau to pursue the so-called inner peace will only delay time and reduce Moriarty's chances of winning.

Sean broke into a smile when he heard that. The young man looked very excited. "That's great." He said with a smile, "I love dueling the most."

His pistol made a beautiful fancy spin on his fingers, and then he held it firmly in his hand. "So, let's just use the pistol."

Moran didn't want to waste time and nodded.

"Okay." Sean didn't seem to be stalling for time. He quickly slid down from the chair, picked up the lemonade he had put aside and drank it all. "Mirabeau will be a witness for us?"

"Do you need to find another one?" Sean was inspired by the unprecedented enthusiasm of the possible killings, and almost became a little chattering. "Great, I knew you would choose to fight me."

"Fight with the rumored Colonel Sebastian Moran," he said with a smile. Moran noticed that his teeth were not in the shape of humans, but more like sharks. There was no sense of disobedience on the face of this handsome and delicate boy, as if he should be such a terrifying creature.

"That's great." He said, "It's been a long time since I had such a happy entertainment program."

Moran did not answer, "I don't need a witness." He said, "Anyway, you," he looked at Mirabeau, "you won't interfere with what he likes so much, right?"

"Of course not," Mirabeau smiled gently, "I will only add fuel to the fire and help him have more fun."

Mirabeau certainly didn't lie.

He walked outside, raised his head, and looked at the blood moon.

"How beautiful it is." Sean exclaimed, "Did Luna prepare it for me?"

"You are also one of the living beings, so it's okay to say that." Mirabeau said leisurely, stepping on the field calmly.

Moran felt cold for no reason. He wondered if he had seen an illusion. This blood moon was too abnormal. The abnormality reminded him of the ballads he had heard in his childhood.

Skeletons would drill out of the graves under the blood moon, and the dead would return to the world.

Drag the people who killed them into a hell of eternal suffering.

Moran felt as if he saw the dead.

He had killed too many people in his life, and he thought he could no longer remember their faces.

The young man stood not far away, waiting politely for him to shake hands as a sign of the start of the duel.

Moran hurried forward a few steps. He wanted to get rid of the interference of the dead souls. When he walked in front of Sean, the skeletal hands of the dead seemed to really loosen from his body. Before he breathed a sigh of relief, he found that they surrounded him silently.

It was as if he had built a gladiatorial arena for him.

Moran and Sean shook hands and walked away from each other.

"Okay," Mirabeau shouted, and the two turned around at the same time, and then gunshots rang out at the same time.

Luna's lips touched the cold metal of the key, and she raised her head suddenly.

Under the blood moon, a faint smell of blood permeated the air, and she knew that someone had died.

The crying was fading, along with the smell of blood, and the blood moon was about to pass. Luna raised her head and felt the morning dew on her hair.

A new day arrived as promised, and the sunrise was the same as every day, so magnificent and clear. She felt the sun burning the fetal membrane on her body, completely liberating her.

She stood up and found that every step could bloom flowers. She looked back at them swaying in the morning breeze, knowing that she had prepared their way home.

Now she will go to the coast, set off with countless creatures belonging to the other side, and then reach the white coast full of flowers on the night of the new moon.

Then the golden new moon will guide their way home.

She successfully became the King of Beginnings, and she found that the key in her hand began to change shape, becoming more quaint and gleaming with a faint glow.

This is the key to the door of her hometown, and Luna held it in her hand.

She continued to move forward, and her footprints would be signposts to the things beyond that were scattered everywhere.

She would not stop, and there was nothing to hesitate about.

Luna raised her eyes and looked at the Alps in the distance. Moriarty had been confirmed to be annihilated.

So what about Sherlock Holmes?

She prayed for the gray-eyed man in her heart for a second.