Meders stretched out the skeleton, and seemed to want to touch Oliver. But as soon as he reached out a little bit, he retracted it as if being scorched by fire. He stood silently on the spot, not saying a word to the crackling sound caused by the rapid expansion of the pain lock.
"Mr. Meders," Oliver called softly, with a touch of reassurance.
"Of course I can tell you." Medes finally spoke again, at a very low volume. "You have a right to know this."
Although the necromancer has no body, Medes feels a lot older in an instant: "... But since you will ask this, that is to say, Flint... he doesn't want to tell you?"
Bone grasped the hem of the robe, and the voice of the necromancer was a little more hopeless when he anticipated the answer: "Flint, is he okay?"
"Father passed away not long ago." Oliver lowered his head, "In order to protect our town, he forcibly transferred the demon summoning ceremony."
"...He was killed by a demon?" Medes ripped off the edge of the robe with a bone finger engraved with black spells, as if trying to tear open his own soul.
"No. After the transfer ceremony, he asked me to kill him, thus sending the demon straight back to the abyss... So I killed my father, Mr. Medes."
Medes stopped ripping at the corners of his robes, he stretched out his bones, and patted Oliver's head cautiously—the movement was as light as death, like Oliver was a fragile thing that fell apart at the touch of a touch. Their similar heights made this behavior seem a little weird, but Oliver didn't dodge, he looked straight at the empty sockets that were glowing red.
"That's indeed the Flint I know, a pure idiot." Medes gritted his teeth and said, his voice coming from his hollow chest. "God, he's not yet fifty years old, how can he be like this..."
Medes shook his head, he would withdraw, take two steps back, and sat on the edge of the stone bed, burying the fleshless skull in his palm.
"It's all my fault, it's all my fault - if it weren't for me, he wouldn't be able to deal with just summoning a demon."
He was shaking violently, and a low whimper came out of his throat. It was more like a wounded beast whimpering than a human being.
"So, Oliver... You have an Alban accent. If I'm not mistaken, did you go down the Black Seal path because you killed your father and ran away? There's no way that Flint could have raised a deviant child."
No, Oliver thought, glancing at Nemo a few steps away. He may already be the most deviant human being in the world.
"Half the reason is this." Oliver replied sincerely, "As for the other half, my lover is a superior demon, and I don't want to be separated from him."
There was no expression on Medeth's bone face. He didn't move, he sighed for a while, and looked at Ann: "That's right."
The female warrior rolled her eyes in disgrace, slapped Nemo on the shoulder, and pushed him a step forward: "...I've had enough. That kid likes this, this is it!"
The necromancer made a few hoarse chuckles.
"You do look like Flint when it comes to your strange taste in picking lovers," he said, glancing at Nemo lightly.
"I'm not going to judge this time, boy. If it's your choice, if you're convinced that it's your happiness. Come on, since you want to know about the past, and about Trent blight, I can do it once. Sex is offered to you."
Meders made a comparison, and the illuminated skeletons wandering above the room turned over at the same time, and the mercury-like contents finally poured out—they fell to the ground, turned into fine silver smoke, and instantly filled the entire room.
It was Medeth's memory, overflowing with happiness, pain, and guilt. He copied and extracted them as the only light source at the bottom of the tomb.
Different from the confinement room of Clementine College, everyone does not need to touch anyone, and is directly wrapped in memories. And the figure of Medes did not disappear, he stood beside them, pointing to the phantoms twisting around.
"This is the first time I've heard of your mother." Meders' bones formed a complex pattern in the air, and the surrounding images began to become clear—
"I'm in love, friends!" The young man opened his arms and made a V to the sky. Health and joy made his smile sparkle. He had just rushed into the tavern from outside, and there were a lot of fine grass blades stuck to his armor.
The Sword of Residual Fire was hanging securely on his belt, and the flames were scattered everywhere.
Oliver swallowed hard, and he recognized it as his young father. Immediately aware of Oliver's abnormality, Nemo stretched out one and grabbed his lover's.
"How many times is this?" The long brown-haired mage sitting at the table held his forehead with both hands, with a helpless smile on his face.
Nemo's mood suddenly became heavy - Abbas Alastair, the deputy commander of the Tin Soldier Mercenary Corps.
Ann, who was standing not far from them, said nothing.
"The one hundred and forty-ninth time. Come on, Commander, if you try harder to lose your love, you will soon usher in the one hundred and fiftieth spring." Balthazar Medes, who was still wearing flesh, was going The book covers his face, "Who is this time? The tavern owner's young daughter? The incense maker in the shop? Or the peasant girl who sells potatoes? Abbas, you gotta talk about him—this guy doesn't even know what it is. True love. Someone has to tell him that unilateral praise behind someone's back just doesn't work."
"Flint is just enlivening the atmosphere, don't take it seriously." Alban's second prince looked rather calm.
"How do you talk, my deputy commander?" Flint shouted dissatisfiedly, "Well, I just praised their beauty in this way before, after all, lovely girls are the most precious treasures in the world, You have to admit it."
"Yes." Abbas responded with a good temper, adding some milk to the hot tea. "Want some tea?"
"I'm really in love this time," Flint announced solemnly.
"That's what you said last time, last time, last time. If your 'love' is to give someone a flower, dance, and say goodbye happily." Meders coughed hard twice. .
"This time is different." Flint grimaced and pointed at Medes. "My angel is a wandering dancer. God, she's so cute, she even gave me a kiss! Abbas, I have a hunch that I'll marry her for sure."
"Oh." Abbas calmly.
"Oh." Medes snorted from his nose.
Oliver stared at this unfamiliar father. Although the father in his memory was equally hearty, there was always something missing compared to the "Flint Lopez" that Meders remembered.
"The Captain is not a frivolous man, Oliver, he respects every woman he meets. The Tin Soldier has always been on the front lines of all kinds of danger, and now it seems that he is indeed active by praising lovely girls. Atmosphere. Abbas sees this better than I do."
Medes, who had become a dead bone, spoke up, staring sadly at the past that had long since passed.
"... We didn't take it seriously at the time, but he was serious. We didn't see that Sonia Ramon at that time, but since then, the regiment leader has been communicating with her in letters, or using communication crystals from time to time. "
"To be honest, we still don't think the two of them can make it. Flint is a famous hero in the world, and Miss Ramon is just an ordinary wandering dancer. I personally even suspected that she was impure."
The Necromancer lowered his head, sighed, and stroked the mist with his fingers a few times.
The scene changes to a room at night.
"Balthaze, I won't take you on the expedition. The list has been handed in, and your name is not on it." Flint's face did not smile, he read Medes's name very seriously, and once word.
"Captain!"
"I know you are not reconciled, but the bottom of the abyss is really dangerous. Your physical condition does not allow it, this is an order."
The young Medes slammed the table, and the crutches leaning against the table fell to the ground, making a crisp sound, neither light nor heavy.
Flint looked at his comrades quietly, showing a little sad expression: "And I have a bad feeling, Balthazar. In case we don't come back..."
"Shut up." There was a bit of annoyance in Recalling Medes' voice, "Don't say such things!"
"I know, just in case." Flint smiled reluctantly. "Don't get excited, don't get excited, get angry and hurt yourself."
"Even if Ulysses killed four generations of expeditionary armies, we have the best elven bow, the most powerful dragon warrior... We have you. Captain, if the tin soldiers can't kill it, I can't imagine returning Who can beat it." Medes muttered. "Such a shrewd and cautious majesty is willing to let Abbas act with you, and everyone will be fine."
"But I occasionally think about some strange questions." Flint lifted Medes' crutches and put them back gently. "Balthazar, you know a lot of weird stuff, don't you. Do you think our expedition...is considered aggression?"
"… What nonsense are you talking about?"
"In order to prepare for the expedition, I collected a lot of information." Flint sighed fiercely. "The scope of the abyss has never expanded, and the Demon King has never come to the surface, but the expedition on the surface has continued for thousands of years. There is no sign that the demons are destroying the surface under its instructions."
"The damage caused by lower-level demons and high-level demons is no different from the beasts on the surface. Most of them have no brains, and they rarely act together. Except for their different power systems, they are no different from ordinary animals. Needless to say, higher-level demons, they Collaborators must be found on the surface, and their actions seem to be very selfish. Rather than jointly destroying human beings, they are more like exploring and enjoying themselves in their own way. It is human beings who build the church of the abyss, and the guardians who maintain the balance of power are superior demons. 'Olores'... All in all, their behavior doesn't seem to be influenced by the so-called 'Demon Lord'."
"But for a period of time after the Demon King is defeated, the abyss will be closed, and the actions of all the demons on the surface will be slow for a period of time. This, this is to protect human beings." Medes' tone rarely stammered.
"It's only a few short years, it's better to fool ordinary people. In fact, people have long been accustomed to dealing with lower-level demons and high-level demons. On the other hand, although the closure of the abyss will weaken the higher-level demons, it is better than the Human power gap, this weakening is almost negligible."
"What are you trying to say, Captain?"
"I have searched all the history and found only one move - get the bone jade. Kill the devil and get the precious resources at the bottom of the abyss."
Flint Lopez started pacing the room: "I'll make an analogy, Balthazar. Like because a few stray garans killed people in Alban, Alban went straight to the Garland declares war. We storm Garland with our troops, execute their royal family, bring back the wealth the Garland royal family has accumulated over the years - and declare it 'justice'."
"But we have to go, Captain. Alban needs bone jade more than ever, and Willard's research on weapons is far ahead of us. If we can't get enough bone jade to deter them, Alban will lose. This war. This is not the time to care about the mood of the devil, after all, the devil is just a monster..."
"I understand." Flint smiled and shook his head, "I'll go. But... Balthazar, just because he's stronger than us, justified attacking him. I don't really like that idea. "
"You are a human being." Medes looked at his head seriously. "Whether it is justice or not, you have your position, head. At least now, you bear the fate of this country."
"… I know."
"Well, what were you going to ask me for?"
"If I don't come back, can you transfer my share of the property to Sonia?"
"Captain..."
"I proposed to her yesterday, and she said yes."
"This time?!"
"We are aware of each other and don't want to leave regrets."
"…Okay, I see."
Nemo's palms were cold and sweaty. Oliver held his lover's back and tried to use his warm palm to help the other party recover a little temperature.
"Flint is such a weirdo," the necromancer said lightly. "The expedition has lasted for thousands of years, and this concept has been widely accepted on the surface. He was still thinking about this question when he left. Meng is almost disgusted, I admit it's my prejudice. Because her identity is really... sorry, and she has a lot of separation from the commander. I thought her target was the commander's property."
"Anyone with a bit of common sense knows that as long as the captain can survive, he will definitely marry the daughter of a noble...even a woman of the level of a princess. When did you hear that the brave man marries a refugee?"
"And he survived," Oliver whispered.
"Yes." Medes nodded.
The smoke surged, and the figure of the young Medes reappeared. This time, his complexion looked much better, and his crutches were replaced with crutches.
But his eyes were terribly swollen, his face was full of beards, and he didn't look like he had taken care of himself for many days. Meders clung to the communication crystal engraved with the emblem of the Tin Soldier, staring blankly at the blue sky outside the window. Completely disregarding the cluttered room around him.
The crystals began to flicker, and he grunted in his throat, eagerly opening the communication.
"Balthazar."
"Captain..." Medes responded with desperate desire.
"Balthazar, help me." Flint didn't bring the good news he wanted, like telling him that the destruction of the tin soldiers was just a nightmare, like telling him everyone was just giving the unflattering Balthazar Meders pulls a bad prank.
Flint sounded helpless and hopeless.
Their head is always full of courage and can face any difficulties with a smile. But the sound coming from the crystal is almost as fragile as the crystal itself.
"Tuan... Flint, you said." Medes forced himself to calm down, he bit his lower lip directly and blood came out.
"Sonia's situation is very bad." Flint's voice trembled a little. "It's Trent blight, Balthazar. It's Trent blight... I'm going to lose her, don't I?"
"I'll go there right away, there will always be a way."
Medes repeated numbly, sweeping eagerly at the mess of books on the table, then scratching his messy hair.
"… there will always be a way, trust me."