"I heard Peter mention it during lunch, hey, guess what? The Marshal lost to the princess."
"It must be the Lord's intention. After all, it is the blood of the Alastair family. If you bump into a woman, it's not like that. Even the princess is still a woman. Look, she doesn't specialize in this. Inserting two beautiful boys into the army? I guess you want to make some merits for your own people."
"Well... But there's been a lot of news about Tumbleweed recently. Those two boys are really good at it."
"Forget it, there must be someone behind them. When have you ever seen a sea scorpion with such a soft attitude?"
Oliver and Nemo, who were very soft-spoken, sat in the tent slightly embarrassed, and were forced to listen to the whispering of the soldiers outside the tent. After the senses became more sensitive, such embarrassing little things became a lot more.
"To be honest, I'd rather go to the battlefield in the west." The conversation outside the tent continued, and one of its voices became a little gloomy. "There are many demon believers among the enemies here. If the legend is correct, maybe there will be a demon warlock. Recently, Alban's side is getting more and more outrageous... Actually put those evil things in On the battlefield!"
Oliver looked at Nemo silently - the King of Evil beside him was speechless, he stretched out his arms understandingly, wrapped his arms around the other's shoulders, and patted him twice soothingly.
"If the late emperor was still alive, he would not have allowed such absurd things to happen." Another voice sighed.
"Yeah, to put it badly, the prince is not the material to be the emperor."
The guard lowered his voice: "When the old emperor was still there, he spoiled him, and the land in my hometown will be under his control. Oh, you don't know, he messes with some messy policies all day long, my lord over there. I'm about to get crazy with that bunch of stuff. The rule changes every two months. I haven't remembered the heat this month, and it will change again next month. When the effect is not good, the prince will change his mind. It's like a joke."
The other let out a toothache-like gasp in cooperation.
"Compared with the late emperor, although His Majesty the King has done nothing, he has been stable for so many years. With the Prince's temperament, it is estimated that he has long been disliked by this brother. You see, His Majesty's death has not spread yet. , the devil believers can go to the battlefield with integrity, it's really a hell."
"There must be 20,000 on the opposite side this time? It's okay to say that it's all people, in case there really is a demon warlock..."
"What else can I do, I can only trust the marshal - the marshal always has a way."
"I thought the lord would get us some dragon breath stone weapons, but only two black badges were sent. I don't want them to use it well, don't do bad things. Oh, will it be the princess and the marshal making trouble? Hope Marshal, don't let her go in, how can a woman care about the battlefield. Where did the princess go all these years? Could it really be captured by a dragon?"
"… taken away by the dragon," Oliver repeated in a low voice, "I think Ann is more likely to be drinking buddies with the dragon."
"Yeah... But when it comes to this, I have to pay attention to the spellcasting section. If the identity of the superior demon is completely exposed, An Xiang's forgiveness will not be able to forgive me." Nemo pressed his forehead, "Since it has spread among the soldiers, look It's not that Marshal Gallagher is alarmist, and the news that there is a demon warlock on the other side is 99% true."
The soldiers chatted and chatted, and the treatment for them was not bad at all.
The hot pea and bacon soup, the bread on the plate is still fluffy even if it is cold, and the large pieces of grilled chicken drizzled with the sauce lie next to the bread. Nemo has absolutely no appetite.
When they leave the camp and advance a little further, the two armies are likely to come into contact. Even with some memories of Ulysses before his death, Nemo still had a lot of resistance to war.
Although he occasionally had similar thoughts swept through his heart during the adventure, this time the feeling was particularly strong—
Unlike epic or biographical descriptions, no war appears to be "tragic" on the surface.
There will only be madness, ugliness, blood and despair on the battlefield. People died for what they believed in, or worse—they lost their lives before they figured out why they were fighting.
The skies over the battlefield will not be cloudy, there will be no accompaniment of lightning and thunder, and the weather may even be fine. The blood seeps silently into the land, the fight continues in a pattern, and the poets always make it as compelling as the only thing going on in the world.
Perhaps from a human point of view, it does.
But for Nemo, it brings him back to Ulysses' perspective.
He didn't quite like the feeling—like standing on the edge of a cliff and stepping a foot into the void in front of him.
Even if he didn't have much memory, Nemo could still feel what the war in Ulysses' eyes was like. Like sweeping the dust off a bookshelf, or shooting a hornet's nest in the way with a flaming oil arrow.
Small, trivial, may occupy a corner of memory, but it is still an ordinary day. If you think about it, humans probably don't think it's an amazing battle to sprinkle some liquid medicine in the garden and kill insects.
For a long time, in his subconscious, the Demon King was the most dangerous "enemy" of the surface race. The relationship between oneself and the surface creatures cannot escape the scope of love and hatred.
But as the battlefield approached, Ulysses' memory became more vivid. Nemo was beginning to become unsure of his past thoughts—as the vague feelings of his memories became clear, it wasn't anger, murder, or hatred that swirled in his heart.
There is only calm indifference.
If you can think like a human, then for garden insects, humans are probably a terrible role as a "demon king" - destroying all with sex, destroying their nests, and crushing their corpses. And their "evil behavior" is just to follow the instinct to eat, reproduce and survive.
People just want to make flowers bloom better.
Nemo even wanted to panic and become brutal because of the war, rather than the dead silence at this time. If his forgotten feelings are really hate, then when he recovers his memory, maybe he can use his love for Ollie to heal part of the darkness.
Heartfelt love and hate are born out of subconscious equality, and equality means that reconciliation is possible.
But if the truth is "don't care", if the relationship between the "Demon King" and the surface race really has nothing to do with love or hate, things may become... even more desperate.
"What are you worried about?" Oliver picked up a decent-sized piece of chicken with a fork and held it to Nemo's mouth. "Nemo, you're horribly pale, do you want something to eat?"
Nemo bites the chicken subconsciously, still a little slow to react.
"I guess you're worried about something else," Oliver said softly. "Are you going to take a break? Even if there were a demon warlock, I'd be enough alone—just defensively, and I'd be able to control that power."
"No." Before the spirit reacted, Nemo's mouth gave the answer by itself. He grabbed Oliver's arm. "I'll go with you... Ann will forgive us later, I don't have to hide too much power this time. I'm more suitable for dealing with demon warlocks."
"Okay." Oliver kissed the tip of his lover's nose. "Whatever you're worried about, Nemo, but I'm sure this war won't be a problem."
The once-young young townspeople are making promises in front of him that they once could not have imagined.
"To be honest, I'm still a little nervous... but I think we can beat them back and no one needs to die on the battlefield."
Nemo looked at the man's soothing smile and took a deep breath.
"Yes," he repeated in a low voice, "... at least this time, no one needs to die on the battlefield."
"Have you two finished eating?" A guard who was just chatting opened the tent curtain, "It's time for us to move forward."
Nemo patted the gray-black robe and picked up the lamp pole staff on one side.
"We're ready," he whispered, then paused for a moment, raising his voice slightly.
"Let's go."
At the same time, Marshal Gallagher was sitting in the room of the base camp, holding his forehead with both hands, and said nothing. He was exuding a faint aura of unrequited love, and the guards who came to deliver the refreshments did not dare to say a word.
After the battle with the princess, the marshal solemnly ordered all the guards to withdraw, and talked back and forth with the tumbleweed several times.
As the number of negotiations increased, the guard watched his boss's face gradually turn blue, and the "Wild Hound" who had always handled everything with ease was now like a frosted eggplant.
And the culprit is also in this room.
The female warrior was still wearing that leather armor, and was leaning halfway against the sofa in the room, eating grapes unhappily, feeding the parrot while eating. Frightened by Her Royal Highness's overly arrogant sitting posture, the guard did not dare to wait any longer, put down the refreshment and left the room quickly.
"Can you get me some? Seriously, Salter, the lunch you serve here is no different from what the cat eats. I'm a little hungry." Ann pointed hopefully at the plate of snacks.
"Your lunch is of the highest standard here."
"Such a big plate, a bite of meat, a few small pieces of broccoli, a little sauce... I haven't tasted it yet, it's gone! Your soldiers are eating meatloaf, I can see it." An Zheng He pointed out, "If it wasn't for your bullshit image, I'd grab a piece and eat it. Seriously, is the back kitchen still available? I mean meatloaf?"
"It's not broken meat, but it's made from cheap scraps!" Marshal Gallagher murmured in dismay, "I can't feed the princess that kind of thing."
"Yeah, because when I was Heizhang, every day when I was hungry, a palace cook would fall from the sky." An angrily spat out the grape seeds into the saucer, "You can't let a soldier go hungry."
After speaking, she seemed to have thought of something, a confident smile appeared on the corner of her mouth, and she quickly rushed out of the room. Within minutes, the slightly greasy aroma of the meatloaf overwhelmed the elegant aroma of the marshal's room.
"It's so delicious, I'm going to cry."
While munching on the cold meat patties, Ann sighed indistinctly, her voice was really choked up: "Not bad, Mr. Wild Dog, you are very kind to your soldiers - this thing is delicious and filling, making people feel good. move."
"That's what the chef gave you?!"
"I said I would use it to feed my pet Warcraft, I couldn't live without it, and it would go mad when it was hungry."
"...Where did you get your pet Warcraft?" Gallagher subconsciously looked at the gray parrot that was frantically eating grapes.
"My stomach," Ann said flatly, "they really like it."
Marshal Gallagher was silent for a moment with a sullen face, and let out a groan of collapse. And Ann happily nibbled the meatloaf and hummed contentedly.
"Forgive me, Your Highness." The Marshal returned to his position. "At least don't make such a joke, if the identity of the mage is also..."
"That wasn't a joke, you heard him say it himself." Ann shrugged. "You have to thank Nemo, Mr. Dingo. He told you so that you could arrange your troops better."
Gallagher would rather lose his memory—
Time to go back to a formal meeting with Tumbleweed.
"Two in a group? Army? There may well be demon warlocks on the battlefield to the east! This is no time for jokes, Your Highness. I know you want to bring your companions, but this is not a good meeting, my soldiers have made sacrifices. Awareness. Your people…”
"Oh, Demon Warlock," Ann repeated calmly. "What a nostalgic word."
"I don't agree," said Marshal Gallagher coldly. "It's nothing to talk about."
"What if we can minimize casualties?" the black-haired mage of Tumbleweed suddenly said, "Ann, Mr. Salter should be a trustworthy person. Since he is an ally, I think he needs to know something. "
"A trustworthy bastard." Alban's princess shrugged. "It has nothing to do with loyalty, the Salt family has completely torn apart the Prince. As long as we help him, he won't be so stupid. To the prince's side."
"Mr Salter, uh, your beliefs...?"
"Laddism," Marshal Gallagher snorted, "but not a fanatic, if you want to ask me that."
The black-haired mage and the head of the tumbleweed exchanged glances.
"I can deal with that demon warlock." He raised his beautiful silver-gray eyes.
"As far as I know, Mr. Cross is the only Judge Knight on your team. If it was Mr. Cross in his prime, I would have believed it—with all due respect, young man, I don't feel anything in you. Powerful breath…”
Gallagher suddenly felt something was wrong.
Not to mention a strong breath, this young man has no breath at all. He was like a phantom that didn't actually exist, and it was the first time he really noticed him.
"We have two superior demons," said the young man. "Enough is enough."
"People from the Church of the Abyss?" Gallagher's expression darkened.
"No." Nemo shook his head.
"If not, where are you going to find the superior demon?"
"I am." The black-haired mage sighed, his pupils split into inhuman crosses.
… not a wonderful memory at all.
Gallagher stroked his long platinum-blond hair sadly, feeling like he was on the verge of losing it in just one day.
"Yo, are you still thinking about Nemo?" An quickly finished eating the meatloaf, licking her fingers incessantly. "How high did you jump? You don't know how relieved I was when I saw you jump straight on to the table—someone else finally got the hang of those little bastards."
Gallagher grunted weakly.
"Nemo Wright really doesn't have a lot of bad records. Now that I have Mr. Cross's assurances, I can put up with him for the time being. But your other demon, to be honest, I'm a little worried."
He rubbed his temples vigorously: "Jesse Dylan... His character is closer to what people describe as a superior demon, if he suddenly goes back on it... "
An threw himself back on the sofa, laughing out of breath.
"Why didn't I put this sentence in the crystal! I really want to tell Dylan." She rubbed her stomach, "That's wrong, he's not a superior demon. Although I don't know what he is, But Clos has always taken him very seriously."
"Oliver Ramon is obviously not, and Cross can't be either, you are more..."
"This." Ann grabbed the grey parrot that was devouring the grapes, "Baggarmoru, say something."
"My heart is hurt, don't talk to me." The grey parrot snorted, "Wait until my hair grows back! Nemo wouldn't even give me treatment, he forgot, he didn't have me in his eyes at all— Let me go, Savage, I haven't had enough."
Gallagher stared at the parrot. Ann watched the excitement, his forehead began to seep sweat.
"You wouldn't want to say..."
"Yes, that's the thing."
"It's the great Lord Bagelmore." The grey parrot emphasized, "Are there any grapes left?"
"… "
"So even if a team of troops falls from the sky now, don't worry too much."
"No, I'm starting to worry." Marshal Gallagher turned pale. "Did Mr. Dylan and Mr. Cross really stand it? It was my fault of judgment, and I had to—"
"Oh. Don't worry, although Dylan is unreliable, he hasn't had any problems in major events." Anson was holding the parrot.
"Are you sure? This is what he asked me for. It's all written on it. I kept a backup." Gallagher stood up angrily, handed a parchment scroll to both sides, and tried to avoid An's oily claws. .
An unconcernedly unfolded the scroll, and as her eyes moved, her brows became more and more frowning.
"…Well, I'm starting to worry too," she said dryly. "Let's pray together, Salter."