Garlan was in a trance for a moment, and suddenly, a drop of ice-cold water dripped from the tip of his wet hair onto the tip of his nose.
With a click, he woke up with a jolt.
He looked intently and found that the black-robed priest was still walking down the stone steps unhurriedly.
In fact, the other party didn't seem to speak at all.
The people around him just watched the black-robed priest vigilantly, including Heimos, who was beside him, and did not respond.
It's like... they didn't hear what the black-robed priest said at all.
From start to finish, he was the only one who heard the other party's words.
He frowned slightly, clenched the sword in his hand, and Garlan walked towards the black-robed priest.
He felt that he didn't need to waste time, so he simply solved the priest directly, and then burned the altar here, and everything was over.
But at this moment, he suddenly smelled a faint fragrance.
When the aroma lingered around him, it seemed to drive away the bloody smell that had just stained him.
He was in a trance for a moment, his body suddenly became unstable, he swayed a bit, and he couldn't help but fell to the ground on one knee.
Strange... The body doesn't obey.
The aroma was light at first, but at the back, it became stronger a little bit.
Garlan's heart tightened, he turned around quickly, and was shocked to find that the knights and Xia behind him had fallen to the ground at some point.
Everyone except him has fallen into a coma.
clatter.
pat.
A soft tap came from above, and Garlan turned around and looked up.
The priest of the religion of all things walked down the stone steps step by step. The bottom of the scepter he held in his hand tapped the slate one after another, making a light tapping sound.
Although the sound is not large, it is particularly clear in the silent front hall at this moment.
He knelt on one knee on the ground, only to feel the aroma coming from his nostrils.
That kind of feeling, as if the priest walked step by step, the aroma came in bursts.
From the very light at the beginning, to the very rich in the back, all the bloody smell in the apse separated by only a thin layer of veil was driven back.
The entire front hall was enveloped by this strange fragrance, and the fragrance surrounded him, as if it was seeping into his body little by little, causing his consciousness to gradually become dazed.
The whole body is like sinking into the soft cotton wool, soft and warm, and the body is extremely comfortable.
The mind gradually empties.
Think nothing, do nothing.
The whole person became relaxed and lazy because of this.
The bright light in the sight dimmed a little bit, and a warm breath like bathing in the sun came up, wrapping his whole person...
The long sword in his hand fell to the ground with a bang.
His forehead was scattered in front of his eyes, and a deep shadow fell, covering his vision. Garlan, who was kneeling on the ground, couldn't hold on any longer, and fell to the ground.
The long golden hair spread out on the stone ground, and the boy fell into a deep dream.
…
…
"West Asia."
In a daze, he heard a gentle voice calling his name.
The man who called him held him with soft hands.
The courtyard bathed in sunlight is very quiet, he closed his eyes and snuggled in that warm embrace with nostalgia.
"Xia, you have to grow up quickly."
The girl hugging him looked at him softly, and said with a chuckle, "You are the prince of Kanal, you must quickly become strong and protect Kanal well."
I will.
Miss Wang.
I'll grow up, I'll get stronger, I'll protect you, I'll protect Canal.
The child answered in his heart.
But in an instant, the peaceful courtyard shattered like a bubble.
The boundless fire of war ignited on the once prosperous land.
He stood blankly in the snow-white palace, listening to the sound of the heavy iron hoofs resounding on the land of Karnal.
He saw countless corpses with broken arms lying down in the war-spreading city, the flames burning the city, and the blood stained the earth.
He saw the tall tower, and the snow-white tower was extremely bright under the sun.
The howling north wind brought a bloody aura in the distance, lifted the long skirt of the girl standing at the top of the tower, and covered her face with the long golden hair that flew up.
"Sister Wang, don't leave me behind."
The little child begged and stretched out his hand to the figure.
catch her.
he thinks.
Hold her tight, he wants to go with her to the father and the king, he doesn't want to be left alone.
However, just when his hand was about to grab the corner of the opponent's shirt.
The girl jumped up.
His long blond hair spread out in the bright sky, and his desperately stretched out hand grabbed the air.
With a bang, the girl's body hit the ground heavily.
The shattered flesh and blood splashed out at the moment of landing, and splattered his face—
The little child stood there blankly, staring blankly at the mass of flesh and blood on the ground that could no longer be seen.
…
"She left you."
A low voice suddenly rang in his dull ears.
"no… "
He subconsciously wanted to refute.
"She left you alone in this world, she ran away, and left you to face the cruel future alone."
"It's not like this!"
He roared loudly, hoarse.
But his refutation seemed more like a cover up of his inner shake.
"It's not like that... She was there to protect me... to keep me alive, that's why—"
"She's relieved, and all the pain is on you."
"no… "
The little boy shook his head, tears welling from his eyes.
He didn't want to admit it.
But that's what happened.
That voice dug out the darkest place in his heart, the resentment he was hiding.
He didn't know when it started, but he couldn't help but think so vaguely in his heart.
He was left behind by his relatives, and he was forced to struggle alone in the world and endure all the suffering.
Why him
he thinks.
Why did he have to endure those tortures
"Prince of Canal."
The low voice continued to sound in front of him.
He stood there, raised his tear-stained face, and stared blankly ahead.
On the high altar, priests in black cyan robes stood on the stone steps and stood calmly.
He looked down at him in a condescending manner.
It's like a god looking down on insignificant beings, cruel and ruthless.
"Canal's demise is already doomed," he said.
"Already... doomed..."
If everything was already doomed.
So what is his struggle so far
The child stood there dumbfounded, his eyes silent a little bit.
"That's its destiny, and it's your destiny."
… the head of the king raised up by the flagpole…
... The king's brother who fell unwillingly with a silver spear pierced through his chest...
Beneath the snow-white tower, Sister Wang, who was shattered to pieces...
… Displaced… In the end, I was betrayed and surrounded by countless Gasdadians…
Also, the cruel thing that he suffered...
That scene seemed to be staged in front of his eyes again.
That is fate.
Someone told him so.
Canal's fate, his fate, the fate of everyone has long been predestined.
The gentle and low voice of the black-robed priest echoed in his ears.
"Fate will never change."
So, all his struggles were in vain.
His so-called persistence is nothing but joy and jokes in the eyes of the gods.
The child stood absentmindedly.
The lights around him were extremely bright, but there was no shimmer in his eyes, and all thoughts were extinguished, leaving only darkness.
... He was trying to resist fate, so he was punished like this...
In a trance, he seemed to return to the past.
On the white tower, he stood, the wind whistling past him.
His sister Wang was by his side, holding his hand and showing him a gentle smile.
Then, take a leap.
Sister Wang took his hand, and with him, jumped down from the tower.
Destiny so.
irresistible.
He was destined to perish, along with his family, and his kingdom.
…
…
Bright lights illuminated the entire vestibule, as well as Heimos' face.
Staring fixedly at the robed priest on the high platform, an undisguised killing intent appeared in his eyes.
Clenching the sharp sword in his hand, he strode forward.
Taking three steps and two steps, he quickly climbed the stone steps and rushed to the robe priest.
A sword cut down without hesitation.
The blade easily split the robe priest's body, cutting him into two pieces.
Blood splattered on Heimos's face and fell into his eyes.
The scorching heat pierced his eyes, causing him to close them subconsciously.
When he opened his eyes again, the originally bright environment suddenly dimmed.
Everything in front of me changed.
His people stood on the ground, and the bloody moonlight fell all around.
At his feet, countless corpses lay in this open-air altar bathed in blood-red moonlight.
The dagger in his hand dripped blood.
He is still very young.
The young child stood in the center of the altar, and the carved black cyan slate with him as the center extended infinitely, and hundreds of dead corpses extended infinitely in all directions with him as the center, with no end in sight.
He stood alone in the sea of blood and the mountain of corpses, staring blankly at everything in front of him, looking at his blood-stained hands.
He killed so many people.
His hands were stained with the blood of so many people.
In a trance, a priest in a black robe suddenly appeared in front of him.
"You are chosen by the God of all things, come and give your life and soul."
The low voice was unusually demagogic.
He reached out to him.
"Come... become one with the Great God."
He took a step forward.
When the black-robed priest raised a smile, he blankly stabbed the dagger in his hand into the opponent's body—
Suddenly, the world turned and the scene in front of him collapsed.
In a blink of an eye, he was already in the palace.
Suddenly hearing a bang, he raised his head subconsciously and saw a sharp arrow hitting the fire plate on the column heavily.
The copper basin fell from the sky, and caught off guard, the burning coals fell on him.
With a bang, the flames ignited violently, and the flames quickly burned half of his body along the jet-black liquid covering him.
The fire was burning, swallowing him whole.
The crimson flames burned his skin, his flesh and blood, and almost dried his marrow—
He was mad in pain, but he could only watch his body burn to pieces.
He saw his appearance in the mirror, not a human being, a ghost or a ghost.
He sat on the huge and cold throne with this half-body that he felt was too ugly to be human, and looked down at the people who were kneeling and bowing down to him tremblingly.
He is alive, but as if he were dead.
…
"That is your destiny."
The familiar hoarse voice resounded in his ears again, causing Heimos to wake up suddenly.
He didn't know when he was already on one knee on the ground, grasping the hilt of the sword with both hands, supporting his body with the long sword.
He was breathing heavily, sweat dripping from his forehead.
The severe pain in his body when he was burned alive by the flames, and the pain in his heart of surviving with a broken body seemed to still remain in his body.
But his eyes are still sharp, and no amount of pain can shake him.
Heimos raised his eyes and looked coldly in the direction of the sound.
"From the beginning, you have been chosen by my God."
Under his feet, the upper half of his body that was cut off by him was in front of his eyes.
The black-robed priest whose body has been broken is strangely alive.
Most of the other party's face was still hidden under the dark hood, and he could only see the other party's lips constantly opening and closing, constantly speaking to him.
"Be one with the great God, dedicate body and soul to my God, dedicate everything, and let the great God of all things come to the world - that is your destiny."
The other party sighed raggedly.
"You can't escape, you have the brand that God gave you..."
The sharp sword stabbed sharply, piercing the head that was still talking.
Heimos stabbed the opponent's head with a sword without expression.
"I don't care how you pretend to be a ghost. If I can't kill you once, I will kill you a second time, a third time, and countless times until I kill you completely."
He stood up and drew his sword.
Then he smashed the still talking head with one foot.
But at the moment when he smashed the head with one foot, the scenery in front of him suddenly changed again.
The stone hall disappeared in front of his eyes, and the surroundings suddenly turned into a battlefield of slaughter.
He heard the familiar sound of hooves stomping on the ground, galloping across the ground.
In the dark night, flames burn in the city, illuminating the night sky.
Countless sharp arrows flew in the firelight like rain.
Houses were set ablaze, and the people cried out in the fire and fled.
The Aaron Landis cavalry in black and red armor and the Gasdard cavalry in white armor fought fiercely in the dark night, and the sound of the collision of the blades echoed under the night sky.
They were surrounded by the Gastadians and blocked in a square in the city, and one by one the Aaron Landis cavalry was beheaded by the Gastadian cavalry under their horses.
Heimos saw Gallan on the battlefield. The young man was guarded by many Aaron Landis cavalry and fought hard with everyone.
The armor on the boy's body and his golden hair have been splattered with blood.
The moment Heimos saw Garlan, he suddenly felt his hand move.
He raised a strong bow in front of him.
Bow and arrow.
The direction of the tip of the arrow pointed straight to where the blond boy was in the night.
A huge sense of panic rushed out of his body, and he tried his best to drop the strong bow in his hand, but his body completely went against his will at this moment.
It was as if an invisible powerful force had controlled him, causing him to raise an arrow towards Gallan in the distance.
stop!
He tried desperately to stop it, but no matter how much he struggled, his hands held the bow steady, the arrow pointed forward.
His hand pulled the bowstring to the point of almost breaking.
The sharp point of the arrow was aimed at Garlan's back in the battlefield.
stop!
No one could hear the roar in his heart.
humming sound.
The arrow pierced through the air.
A long arc was drawn in the night sky, and then, it penetrated the back of Garlan's heart ruthlessly.
The boy fell off the horse and fell to the ground.
The golden hair sank into the mud, and blood poured out from his chest, dyeing the earth red.
His pupils suddenly dilated, and Heimos stood there sluggishly, his hands and feet cold.
The noise of the battlefield seemed to be far away from him at this moment, and the whole world fell into a dead silence.
As if the moment the boy closed his eyes, his heart froze.
He killed Garland.
His own hands...
"That is fate. You and him are the twins of fate."
A hoarse voice whispered in his ear, surrounding him.
"While you live, he will die at your hands."
"impossible… "
"He will die because of you."
"Do not… "
"You know it's true, you can feel it, it's the truth."
"…shut up… …"
"Between you, there will always be someone who will die because of the other."
"shut up!"
The voice echoed in his ears, proclaiming the cruelest prophecy.
"You can never coexist in this world!"
Destiny so.
…
…
When he was conscious, he felt that someone was pinching his jaw, with such a force that he almost thought his jaw was being crushed just like that.
The icy liquid poured down his throat and flowed into his body, and the poison ignited clusters of flames in his body.
All the internal organs seemed to be burned by the flames, and it was almost unbearable pain.
His wildly waving hand grabbed the front of the shirt tightly.
Opening his eyes, he gasped for breath.
He saw those golden red eyes, both familiar and unfamiliar.
The man who forcibly poured the venom into his mouth stared at him, his eyes like the vertical pupils of a poisonous snake, cold and cruel.
… Heimos…
The severe pain made his body tremble with pain, and he opened his mouth with difficulty, but his throat, which was corroded by the venom, could not make a sound.
Suddenly, it was dark, and in a blink of an eye, it lit up again.
Everything around me changed.
The icy rain hit his face, and he opened his eyes and mouth, but couldn't breathe.
The throat was strangled tightly.
His feet were empty, hanging in the air, and the pain of suffocation made tears seep from the corners of his eyes.
Below him is the sky.
The man stood on the edge of the high attic platform, holding him high in the air with one hand firmly around his throat.
Then the hand was released.
He fell from the sky.
Instinctively, he stretched out his hand, wanting to ask for help from the man who killed him in front of him.
For some reason, he always felt that this person should grab his hand and hug him tightly.
But the man just stood there, looking down at himself with gloomy eyes.
His hand didn't hold anything after all.
He fell heavily from a high cliff.
At the moment of landing, there were flames all around him. He was in a sea of flames, and the flames were boundless, like a prison imprisoning him.
He lay on the ground, and the heat rolled in, wave after wave.
The smoke swirled and the dust ignited that he could barely breathe.
He lay helpless in the sea of fire, alone, the dust choking in his throat gradually blurred his consciousness.
In the blurred vision, he saw a familiar figure standing outside the sea of fire.
He saw the man's sinister and violent eyes staring straight at him, quenched like poison, full of resentment and murderous intent.
At this moment, suddenly, a torrential rain poured down.
The sea of fire dissipated in an instant.
He saw the man with blood-red eyes striding forward, and the cold suffocation almost enveloped the whole world.
He opened his eyes as the man raised the sharp sword in his hand and stabbed it into his chest fiercely.
The pain piercing the heart swept through the whole body from the chest, and the pain was almost crazy—
…
"Are you willing?"
The boy lay quietly on the ground, the pattering rain soaking his golden hair.
The rain, mixed with blood, trickled down from under him.
The sharp sword pierced through his chest pinned him to the ground.
He was about to die, staring blankly at the raining sky.
"Killed again and again, forced to go through it all... Are you willing?"
Of course not reconciled.
I had to leave my hometown where I grew up and come to such an unfamiliar place.
Alone.
No matter how hard he struggled, he was killed again and again.
Why did he have to endure all this
"This is fate, it is doomed from the beginning, and no one can change it."
Do not.
The gods sent him here to change his destiny.
He comes back after dying again and again, just to change everything.
"Do you really think so?"
The voice let out a low laugh.
"Haven't you ever thought that bringing you here and experiencing death again and again is your original destiny?"
... original destiny
wrong.
He changed the lives of many people, he saved many lives.
"Nothing has changed. What you call change and salvation is the set trajectory."
There was a deep sarcasm in the voice surrounding him.
"You can't change the established trajectory - like the king of the lion, fate wants him to die there, so you can't save him."
"You can't save someone who is doomed to die."
The pupils of the boy who was lying quietly on the ground contracted violently.
[I have saved countless people, but only... I can't save the people I want to save the most.]
Excessive blood loss made his lips pale, and he opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but his lips trembled slightly, and in the end he couldn't say anything.
He lay on the ground, staring blankly at the sky.
The long black-blue pendulum passed by his eyes, and the black-robed priest did not know when to appear in front of him.
He stood beside him, looking down at him.
"Son of the gods?" The black-robed priest said with a chuckle, "No, you are just a chess piece in the hands of the gods, just a puppet tied by the thread of fate. Every move can only move forward according to the established trajectory."
He's just... a pawn in the hands of the gods
"Fate is so."
If everything is already doomed, then, what is the point of him coming to this world and enduring the pain of dying again and again...
The pain that pierced through the heart came in bursts, making people unbearable, and blood was flowing under him.
He seemed to be able to feel a little bit of life slipping away from his body.
His body gradually became cold, and his consciousness became blurred little by little, sinking, sinking into the bottomless abyss...
…
A gust of wind suddenly whistled past, blowing the open window with a soft thud.
The boy who had been sleeping quietly on the desk suddenly woke up.
There was a light in the room, and the tube emitted a soft and bright light, illuminating the room as if it were daytime.
He was stunned to find himself lying on the desk, with the half-written test paper unfolding in front of him, with a pen in his hand.
Strange... how could he be here
Do not.
No, he was already here.
Why does he have the illusion that he shouldn't be here
Sleepy
His head was dizzy and painful, the boy dropped his pen and raised his hand to rub his temples.
It was probably because I stayed up until midnight every night to cope with the exams recently, and I was really tired.
He thought with a wry smile.
I actually fell asleep on the desk when I was halfway through the question.
Yawning and stretching his limbs that were a little stiff from sleep, he got up and went to the living room, opened the refrigerator, and took out a bottle of cold soda.
He raised his head and took a few sips, and the feeling of chilling stimulation made his mind clear.
Holding a water bottle, the boy stood in front of the refrigerator with his head tilted, his eyes showing a bit of doubt.
Speaking of which, when he fell asleep just now, he seemed to have had a long dream.
Not only is it long, it is also very strange.
But I can't remember the specific content... I just vaguely remember that his experience in the dream was not very good.
He seemed to have been killed by someone, and more than once.
Moreover, in the dream, he seems to have lost someone who is very important to him... Even if he can't remember who that person is, as long as he thinks of this, he has a faint feeling of worry in his heart, which makes his chest feel tight. uncomfortable.
The boy shook his head vigorously, trying to get rid of that uncomfortable feeling.
forget about it.
Why don't you think about uncomfortable things.
If it's a nightmare, forget it.
He rubbed his head hard again and couldn't help complaining.
Staying up late for exams is miserable enough, why is it so miserable to even have a dream
Dumping a bottle of soda to drive away the drowsiness that was entangled in him, he casually glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall as he walked quickly back to his room.
But perhaps it was because the lights in the living room were not turned on, and the clock was hidden in the darkness, and he couldn't see the time with a casual glance.
He didn't care, sat back at the desk, picked up the pen and buried his head in the half-finished exam paper again, completely forgetting that strange dream.
…
Forget it.
It was just a dream, a painful nightmare.