Snow fell from the sky and fell on Ciel's hair.
He lowered his head and looked at the pale face in the pool of blood, watching him gasp for breath with difficulty. The last heat turned into white mist, rising from his mouth and nose, flying into the sky, condensing into frost in the wind, and falling silently. , freezing the gradually cold blood.
The severe pain caused his face to twitch.
The soldier groaned, stared at Ciel, and stretched out his hand with all his strength, trying to touch him. The lips opened and closed weakly, but no sound could be heard.
"Hold on a little longer."
Charles held his hand hard and felt the bone-chilling coldness. The coldness penetrated into his bones, making him panic: "I'll find someone immediately. Just hold on a little longer... Doctor! Doctor! There's another one here... "
In the din, only distant moans responded.
Snow seemed to fall endlessly from the sky, covering the entire frozen soil. On the plains after the war, the war had not yet been extinguished, but the corpses were already cold.
Thousands of people? Or tens of thousands
For their new country, they fell in this war, in this place so cold that hell would freeze, and they died looking up at the sky until snow powder covered their faces.
The medical soldiers staggered across the plain, loading the still-living ones onto the supports one by one, and then stabbed the hearts of the unsavable ones one by one with their swords.
In this way, people who cannot survive will no longer have to suffer.
Ciel's cry was drowned by the fine snow, and no one responded. Not far behind him, Wolf Flute was smoking a cigarette and wrapping his coat tightly, just watching without saying a word.
Ciel looked back gloomily, only to see the smile of the dying man.
It's like heaven is in sight.
"Ah, ah, the divine son..."
He held Charles's hand, opened and closed his dry lips, and used his last strength to plead: "Please... grant me salvation..."
Charles opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say. He couldn't bear to avoid the man's sight and hesitantly organized his words. In the end, he could only nod wordlessly.
The half-disfigured soldier smiled, as if he had finally received Tong Qing's acquiescence.
The gates of heaven opened before him.
He closed his eyes with satisfaction.
The last breath faded.
No more temperature.
Charles let go of his hand and watched as his arm fell into a pool of solidified blood. Even though he was dead, his palm was still holding it empty, as if he was holding on to some invisible hope.
For a moment, Ciel saw it.
The vague figure rose from the man's body, like the last white mist coming out of his mouth and nose, slowly rising into the sky.
not one.
It's hundreds or thousands.
Countless vague figures soared in the sky and entered the invisible door.
It's like really walking into the kingdom of heaven.
Charles thought the hallucination was coming again, but when he looked at his hand, he found that there was no blood in the hallucination - it was real - but when he looked again, he couldn't see it again.
They have left.
Only the wind and snow were left, covering the battlefield and eliminating the last traces.
"Is that true?"
Ciel stared blankly at the sky.
Langdi was puzzled, "What?"
"… No."
Ciel shook his head, smiled mockingly, and looked away: "No, it's nothing."
Wolf Flute sighed and handed over a pack of cigarettes.
Materials were in short supply on the battlefield, food was distributed per person, and cotton-padded clothes could only be worn by two people, and they took turns to wear them, but this was the only one that was in unlimited supply.
The low-quality tobacco produced in East Tianzhu was chopped with a guillotine, then roasted in a crude way, and then wrapped in extremely thin and rough white paper, without even a filter element.
"Too bad there's no wine."
Charles lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. The acrid smoke rushed into his lungs, like sandpaper scratching his throat, causing pain like swallowing gravel.
Smoke sprayed out of the mouth and nose and flew into the sky.
Are they flying to where those souls go
Ciel couldn't help but think.
"Relax, this is war." Langdi patted his shoulder: "It's not the first time, nor the last, but there will definitely be more in the future. If those countries don't recognize what happened here one day, change, then the war will continue for one day.”
"I know."
"But you have to understand." Langdi sighed, "How many are this? How many have you tried to save along the way? You are the leader, you are their hope, but you are not a medical soldier. Give up, you You can’t save everyone, but you can give them a worthy death.”
Charles was silent for a long time, and then asked softly: "Do they really believe that I am some kind of divine son?"
"right."
"But I'm not."
Ciel shook his head: "I know I'm not. I have nothing to do with that bullshit God. He has never loved me."
Langdi thought in silence for a long time and finally found the answer:
"Then you may not be His biological child, right?"
Ciel said nothing.
Langdi immediately shrugged with disappointment, "I thought this joke was good."
"Where is Mr. Gaius?" Charles put out his cigarette and suddenly asked, "I have something I want to find him for."
Langdi thought for a while and said, "He should be very busy now."
"I know."
Ciel turned back and stared at the huge battlefield covered with snow: "Things like the Holy Son have no meaning at all for this place. I don't want to be just a mascot, the Wolf Flute."
"It's impossible for Gaius to agree to your participation in the war." Wolf Flute answered straightforwardly: "You are a symbol, Ciel, you are the proof of the existence of miracles. You must be high up. If you participate in the war, other countries will have reason to dispatch themselves. Scepters and scourge weapons, maybe even saints... Gaius can't possibly allow you to roll up your sleeves and get started on impulse."
As he spoke, he pointed to the end of the battlefield.
At the end of the line of sight, in the distant camp, huge ether fluctuations rise far into the sky, indicating the existence of oneself.
"See? We can't fall into passivity."
Wolf Flute said: "Whoever can't bear it first will lose."
"Don't worry, I won't."
Charles smiled self-deprecatingly, looked down at the cold face covered in blood and snow, and murmured softly: "I just feel that I should help a little bit...even a little bit would be good."
…
…
Three hours later, Baishan Research Institute.
There was no heat in the cold room, and it was so cold that it made one's heart twitch. Even the house had just been built and could only be protected from the wind on all sides. There was a stove burning in the corner of the room, but it couldn't provide any warmth.
The old people were sitting at the table, wrapped in thick coats, holding cups of hot water, but they were all shivering from the cold.
In the silence, no one spoke.
They looked at the drawings on the table in silence, paying close attention and not missing any loopholes or errors.
Footsteps sounded from a distance, and the young researcher opened the door and ran in, with bulging bags in his arms. He was sweating all over from running in the wind and snow, and the sweat froze on his face, almost freezing.
"There's only so much in Curry, so I took them all."
He placed the gray "iron ingots" in his arms on the table. Those thumb-thick "iron ingots" fell on the table and collided with each other, making a crisp sound.
Molten lead, all molten lead.
The old people looked at the molten lead on the table and looked at each other:
"Is it really possible?"
"No one has ever thought of this idea. The principle is very simple and there is no problem."
"There have been similar designs before, but they also had many disadvantages. Moreover, we lack a better alloy formula."
"The Holy City has imposed a technical blockade on us. If we want to do our own research, it will take another four years."
"The idea is great, but we don't have that much time."
"First make a batch of prototypes based on this design. Maxim, you have sufficient manpower there. How long will it take?"
"Those newly recruited carpenter and blacksmith apprentices still need to be trained before they can be put to use. If you want a qualified prototype, it will take about three months."
Behind the table, Charles listened to their opinions in silence for a long time, then slowly shook his head: "It doesn't take that long. If you think it's okay, you can do it now."
"Now?"
"Well, now."
Ciel nodded and spread his palms.
A clear voice sounded.
As if an earthquake suddenly came, the tables and chairs shook, and the glass on the wall suddenly burst into countless cracks and fell apart. The old people looked at each other and couldn't help but want to retreat.
collapse!
A chair suddenly collapsed, and the person sitting on it stumbled. He looked up in shock, only to see iron nails breaking free from their restraints and throwing themselves at the palm.
The wind blew.
Gray dust like mist surged from the window and gathered around Ciel, and countless rough metal particles could be vaguely seen.
The cold wind howled and flowed into the room through the window, but there was no chill at all.
Because what was born in that palm was the high temperature above the lava.
Like a melting pot.
Countless alchemical matrices were born and destroyed in an instant, gathering together with the movement of the five fingers, forming an abstract furnace. Dazzling pure white flames were brewing in it, and the temperature that was enough to completely evaporate the entire room in an instant was restrained in that hand.
Just a hint of heat leaked out, making the room so hot that it was almost suffocating. Making those old men's beards curl and recede into corners.
When steel is put into it, it becomes **, and the impurities evaporate instantly.
Immediately afterwards, countless fine dust poured into it, which was mineral dust contained in the deep layers of frozen soil. Invisible hands picked them out of the soil, put them into the furnace, and smelted them with the terrifying temperature.
Heating, beating, purifying, shaping, reprocessing, forging, quenching…
In an instant, the long process came to an end.
In Ciel's hands, dozens of parts in the extinguished fire have been molded, colliding, rubbing, piecing together, and combining with each other, and finally formed the prototype of creation.
A strange iron pipe with a handle.
"alright."
Ciel placed it on the table: "If there are no errors, we can test it now."