His feet seemed to be filled with lead, his chest was panting like a broken bellows, and Bud ran back to the hut where Gretel lived again, only a pool of blood was left on the open space.
Some people around opened the door and ran out to put out the fire. This is a major event. If it is not fixed, the house here will be burned.
The sound when Gretel was beaten was much louder than this. The sound of struggling, insulting, begging for mercy, the beating continued for a long time, but it was always so quiet until the sound of firefighting in the distance.
Bud rushed into the small room, and there was no other group of people in the room, only Grete curled up in the corner covered in blood, breathing weakly.
"Sorry Gretel! I'm late, I'm a coward."
Seeing Gretel's miserable appearance, Bud burst into tears.
Sitting on the dusty ground with dried blood, Bud carefully leaned Gretel against the corner.
At this time, Grete's eyes were swollen and bloodied, and he couldn't open it. He seemed to want to say something, but he had no strength, and he couldn't even lift his arms.
Bud held his hand and called out his name, trying to cheer him up and take him to a nearby temple, but Gretel couldn't say a word.
Then Bud tried to pick up Gretel, but felt that Gretel had multiple fractures on his body, and there was an expression of extreme pain on his face, and he had to put it down again.
Tears flowed silently, and warm tears fell on Grete's wrist, splashing some water.
Gretel seemed to sense something, his fingers swiped in Bud's palm, and Bud looked at that finger carefully.
The weak fingers stroked very slowly, as if it was very laborious, stroke by stroke, conveying the last words.
'do not Cry. '
After the stroke, Gretel's wish was fulfilled, he slowly stopped breathing, his body cooled down, getting colder and colder, and no longer had the temperature of life.
On the other side of Hopelander, it is still immersed in the festive atmosphere. Even at night, many pavilions are still not closed. The smell of barbecue, orange lights, lively noise, and tourists shopping in the city center are flooded in the city center. Street alley.
"Lexi, don't rush home yet, there will be a show later." Lan Lier pulled Lacey to stop in front of a booth selling shells, with a black-haired and brown-skinned girl standing beside her.
"Well, there will be fireworks later."
"Don't say it, Ling Xin, there is no sense of expectation anymore." Lan Lier complained in a low voice.
As if he had noticed something, Roland Hill got up and looked at the sky in the distance.
"What's the matter, Lacey?"
"I still have something to think about. I'm afraid I can't watch the fireworks with you."
With blue transparent pupils hidden under the shadow of the hood, Loren Hill said softly goodbye to the two girls beside him, then turned to leave.
Ringtone looked thoughtfully at the direction where Roland Hill left, when a friend's inquiry sounded beside him.
"What happened to the ringtone?"
"It's nothing, by the way, how did you know this Miss Lacey."
"It was introduced by Sister Tireira, when... she was..."
"That's it, that's good, because she's very powerful, maybe you can't beat her."
"No, Ringtone, I'm a Sequence 5. Little Lacey can only be a Sequence 3 at most." Lan Lier looked incredulous.
"You'll find out later."
boom-
boom-
With a few soft sounds in the distance, colorful fireworks rose slowly in the night sky, like stars rising from the earth, blooming colorful colors in the sky.
The colorful stars bloomed into huge streamer flowers, and the scattered light points were indistinct, like golden rain falling from the sky, and the empty night sky suddenly became lively.
Residents and tourists in the city stopped to watch at this time, and bursts of laughter, blessings, and prayers sounded in the crowd.
Then more fireworks rose from the ground, and the spectacular and splendid scenery unfolded like a picture scroll in the night sky of Hopeland.
Gorgeous fireworks continue to rise and bloom, illuminating the dark alleys.
A young man is walking on a deserted street with his friend's cold body in his arms, his hands are heavy and sore, and the liveliness in the distance is so far away, as if in two worlds.
The tears on his face dried up slowly in the night wind. He walked slowly through the deep alley, wanting to bury his friend on the hillside by the sea.
A small canal cuts across the edge of the city, and Bud staggers onto a small bridge.
The fireworks rose in the distance, reflecting the bridge deck, casting waves of light on the quiet water surface of the small river. The young man's figure was faintly faint under the cold firelight, and he looked very lonely.
There were slight footsteps in front, and a slender figure appeared on the opposite side of the bridge, with gray boots and a black hooded robe, and long pale golden hair sticking out from the hood, plated with a faint silver layer by the moonlight.
Then the footsteps stopped.
Roland Hill looked at the familiar young man in front of him, his pupils were sad and silent, and he was holding a body that had lost its temperature in his hands. In the distance behind him, there were black smoke and fire, and people could hear people's voices from time to time. shouts.
"Still, are you late?"
Looking at this previously cowardly young man, she sighed softly, already having a lot of guesses in her heart.
Bud looked at the girl who had helped him on the bridge, his footsteps stopped, and his hands finally couldn't bear the weight. He knelt on the ground and cried bitterly, but his eyes blinked desperately to prevent a single tear from falling.
Roland Hill looked at the boy quietly, and after a while, the choked cry slowly stopped.
"Are you sent by the gods to save me?" Bud raised his head and looked at the black-robed girl in front of him.
"But why not save my friend."
"Why, why does the hero in the story always appear last?"
"Aren't you a hero? Why can't you save everyone!"
He seemed to question Roland Hill, and he seemed to be venting his anger, angering his cowardice and incompetence.
Although the teenager may not have really asked himself, Roland Hill still gave an answer.
"I'm sorry, I'm not a hero and I can't save everyone."
"Or, it's a sad thing to expect a hero to save everything."
In all kinds of legends, everyone is always happy to hear that a certain hero or hero will come forward, defeat the evil villain, and save everything. They place their hopes and aspirations on others, while they are content with the status quo and dare not change.
Lorraine Hill stood on the bridge and quietly listened to the narration of the young man, about the short life of his good friend Gretel.
"Why wait, instead of standing up for yourself?"
Looking at the cowardly young man, Roland Hill spoke again, just like the alley outside the restaurant that day.
"Why do people always place their hopes on others, prefer to pray to the gods of nothingness, hide in the corner and feel sorry for themselves, and wait for the noble people they meet, rather than take a step by themselves."
"When will you be your own hero?"
Under the cold moonlight, the girl took off the hood on her head, her silver hair fluttered in the air, and her bright red and transparent pupils stared directly at the shocked teenager.
"I Have a Scroll of Ghosts and Gods"