unmanned town
The bottom of the abyss was drowned in silence.
In the previous battle, Nemo stopped his breathing and heartbeat, and now what was pouring into his ears was a deadly nothingness. Not long ago, Ulysses was still wandering around here, even if a few daring superior demons came to prey on the corpses, they would not be stupid enough to alarm the terrifying killing machine.
The silent darkness completely buried him, a feeling Nemo was familiar with. He was free to peep into the thick darkness close by, and to perceive the vast void around him. It's a pity that since the surface was assigned to Jesse Dylan, he can no longer detect everything on the surface.
Not much difference, Nemo once thought that way.
Perception has never been vision, and those tiny creatures that wriggle in the distance have no color. From the moment he got close to the sun and curled up his body, he never saw the real sunlight again.
What followed was Eternal Night, which seemed to be a mixture of deafness and blindness, and most of my memories were based on this background. If Nemo is willing, the body of the "Demon King" can stay motionless for a hundred years, and all perception is only used for thinking and calculation.
A day, a year or a few decades in the boundless darkness. In his perception, there used to be not much difference.
Things have changed now—the darkness of memory has never been so dull, and time has never been so long.
Maybe it's a side effect of "feelings".
Nemo restarted his heartbeat and breathing. Several balls of light rose up, illuminating the space within a kilometer radius for him, and at the same time illuminating the pile of demon corpses in the distance.
The temperature here is extremely low, and the corpse decomposes very slowly, not even keeping up with the speed of being slowly absorbed by the bottom of the abyss.
After the half-day fierce battle with Ulysses, not much sand was left on the ground in this area, only countless deep potholes and mutilated corpses remained. Nemo looked around and went in a certain direction.
He remembers this place, he remembers every place.
More than 20 years ago, I met Flint Lopez nearby who was separated from the team in order to hold a rogue. This saved him a lot of trouble, and he didn't need to think about other ways to reach that human.
At that time, he led Flint forward in the dark, towards the expedition team in the distance.
Nemo walked alone along the route he remembered, and the cold fine sand reappeared, running between his toes. He just walked through his memory again, barefooted.
Flint Lopez is more talkative than Oliver. Except for the time to drink water and sleep, the leader of the Tin Soldier Mercenary Corps kept talking to the darkness, or hummed a song that was not natural, but could be called pleasant to the ear—
[You sprinkle fire in my world, that painful and sweet brilliance. I would like to follow you, walk through the ruins and the smoke of gunpowder. Sandra, Sandra. The dew on the tombstone is shining, will you cry for me?]
Flint Lopez doesn't seem to know what fear is, his voice is smooth and cheerful. It's just that my palms are cold and soaked in sweat.
At the beginning, he only felt that the human attitude was still positive and the strength was very impressive, just like examining an object.
[It's too quiet here, it's so quiet that it makes people nervous.]
The most negative thing about Flint was this sentence, and it was said in a joking tone.
Thinking about it now, holding a monster's hand, walking forward in the vast and desolate darkness. I don't know the destination, I don't know if the other party can be trusted, but I have to move on for love and responsibility.
What kind of fear should that be
Nemo stretched out a hand, his long, human fingers pale and bloodstained under the dim lighting. He sighed softly involuntarily, and moved on.
[Are not you afraid? ] he had asked Flint.
It's not out of sympathy, half of it is to seriously want to get an answer, and half of it is to induce the other party to "empathize". At that time, I collected information ruthlessly and observed the negative effects of the emotion of "fear", even if I had never tasted the taste of fear in person.
[My love and companions are still waiting for me - I am so happy, I will definitely survive!]
Flint Lopez at the time replied, with confidence in his words.
Nemo pursed his lips and looked at the mounds of deformed corpses on either side of the passage. Countless shriveled and cloudy eyes have not had time to close, their frost-covered internal organs are stacked on the sand, the deformed huge mouth is cracked due to external force, and the fangs are as dense as a cluster of tombstones. The Flint Lopez in memory is strong enough to be able to detect these.
What kind of mood did that human being have to give such an answer
He couldn't understand it in the past, and now that question has been floating in the void for decades, and it has returned to himself.
Are you not afraid, Nemo Wright
Fear never left, he replied to himself. Now Nemo worries about losing his trust, resisting death, fearing that Oliver Ramon will die before we meet again.
He was terrified.
But he still decided to trust Oliver Ramon, and this decision would not change. Right now Nemo is pretty sure that if a decision doesn't even terrify himself, the decision itself won't have much value.
The same is true of trust, which was originally the weight he personally chose to carry.
Fear is not a bad thing, he thought. Fear means that he still has something to cherish that he can lose, and that he has something to protect.
In the final analysis, emotion is nothing more than a kind of weapon, it just depends on whether the blade is facing oneself or the enemy.
The bones in the fine sand could no longer pierce his skin, but Nemo could still feel them with the soles of his feet. After walking for an unknown amount of time, Nemo stopped when he arrived at a gentle sand slope. The voice in the memory resounded again—
[I see the light of the team! Thank you very much, kind wanderer. I don't know how to express my thanks, but give you this - if you have a chance to go to the surface, you can find me with this, and then we can talk again.]
Flint Lopez handed the gold pendant to himself, and Nemo did bring it to the surface. But they eventually missed it on the surface. Flint took him into Signpost, and they didn't meet much after that.
Aside from the day Flint died, Nemo's last memory of the innkeeper was in the small library that smelled of scrolls.
[No need to look for money, buy some candy for the little guys in the Wright family.]
They always knew nothing about each other.
A little disappointed.
Nemo's left hand subconsciously touched his chest, which was empty because he lost the pendant, and the end of the blood-stained staff poked into the fine sand. A few kilometers away, is the end of memories—
Here, he personally destroyed the Tin Soldier mercenary group, killed Ann's brother, and killed the hero he once dreamed of.
Nemo lowered his eyes.
The emotions of sadness and apology are still there, but after seeing everything, the guilt that seemed to be crushing him before was relieved a lot. The long memory wrapped them all, and finally turned into a solemn and quiet tribute.
It was no longer a mere source of intelligence, and emotions made his calculations complicated and unstable.
After all, apart from the position and purpose in the world, there are still many things worth stopping at. The pale humanoid Demon King bowed his head slightly, earnestly saluting the long-abandoned battlefield.
Respect your opponent, respect yourself. To the irreversible past, to the future that will never be repeated.
After the salute, Nemo crouched down and pressed one hand to the ground.
First a little light, and then the whole blue sky - the top illusion is activated again. A sun-filled, but empty signpost town appeared at the bottom of the abyss, engulfing the desolate battlefield. And he himself was standing in the familiar library, beside the old wooden table, the false sunlight passed through the branches in front of the door, casting light spots on the dark wooden table.
Pulling out the high chair in the illusion, Nemo placed the staff against the wall and sat firmly beside the table. There were still a lot of books piled up on the table that he didn't have time to return to. He picked one at random, and the text on it was the same as what he remembered.
Just no voice.
This time Nemo didn't create a fake pedestrian. Not because he didn't want to do it, but simply because he couldn't do it—the second time he stretched out his hand, a vision resembling Oliver Ramon appeared at the door of the library, but unfortunately only the body was similar and his face was extremely blurred.
Of course he remembered Oliver's facial features, but the sense of disobedience always existed. He always felt that the illusion he had created was missing something crucial. Nemo withdrew his hand and turned the page in his hand again. The illusion was twisted for a moment, then gradually dissipated.
After the apparition dissipated, Nemo's gaze lingered meaninglessly in the void for a few seconds.
For some reason, the sun-filled scene before him made him more sad than the horrific corpse.
Nemo couldn't name the emotion stuck in his chest at this moment, it was warm and heavy, with sharp thorns that made his breathing quick and hassle. After a moment of contemplation, he pulled the corners of his mouth hard, revealing a smile that no one could see.
No breathless pain, no heart-piercing grief. A few drops of clear liquid may fall on the pages. When he saw them, he realized that his cheeks were wet.
During the long and quiet walk, Nemo seriously considered the possibility of going directly to the ground for a while. But if you push down the fence yourself, countless superior demons will definitely take the opportunity to invade the surface and completely destroy everything on the surface. But if he uses the old method, he first has to use external force to close his cognition, but this time, no one will take his head away.
No solution has emerged yet, and every path leads to miss and destruction.
Oliver kept surprising him for as long as he could remember. Perhaps with all his computing power, he couldn't guess the next move of this ordinary lover. Just as he couldn't figure out what kind of expression Oliver on the ground was wearing at the moment.
… please surprise me again, Ollie.
The Demon King did not cast the cleansing spell. He wiped the blood on his hands with a handkerchief, wiped the tears from the pages of the book with his cuffs, and continued to read the long-winded book describing the herbs in the forest. Ignoring the uninhabited silence, the scene is warm and ordinary.
What's the second half of that Flint song
"Beautiful Sandra, my beloved."
As if trying to break the silence, recalling the voice of Flint Lopez. Nemo hummed casually.
"Are you waiting at the end of the road, watching my burning soul. I would give up the rest of my life to see you again."
Holy Land Hatfield, Central Church.
Hamlyn Elmer opened his eyes and stared in shock at the long-lost sunlight. He shook his dazed head, struggled to get out of bed, and fixed himself on the floating chair. After confirming again and again that this was the first floor, Hamlin rushed out the window.
Two dragons slumped in the yard. The blue dragon looked extremely weak. It was lying on the ground and rolled its eyes, but it didn't mean to move. The red dragon put his long neck on the blue dragon's back and snored.
Before the members of the Dragon Clan left, Hamlin swallowed and looked to the other side—
The burly black horse bowed its head meekly, motionless. The leader of the tumbleweed was saddling the horse alone, with his back to him. Although his breath was much weaker, Hamlin was very sure that the knight was Oliver Ramon.
Another breath that had been with him was gone.
"Mr. Ramon!" Hamlin pushed his chair forward, hoarse voice. "I-"
The back figure froze for a while, and then Oliver Ramon turned his face.
Hamlin held back the half-sentence he didn't have time to say.
The head of the tumbleweed is in bad shape.
In this church, Hamlin has seen countless negative emotions. But he wasn't even sure at this moment whether the other party's emotions were negative. It's not despair, not remorse, grief, or indecision. Oliver Ramon looked as if he had been cut off from the world, and those green eyes were indeed looking at him, but they seemed to be looking at a non-existent point in the void.
Hamlin couldn't read the other person's emotions. Too many things were mixed together, and he could only barely separate a feeling that he was more familiar with.
Mr. Ramon was smiling politely, but he exuded a strange sense of loneliness.
"Hamlin." The other party's tone was very soft, "Is something wrong?"
"I... After we came out, the fanatics tried to embarrass Mr. Cross. Something seems to have happened, and I wasn't sober at the time. Is Mr. Cross okay?"
"Mr. Cross is still resting, he will be fine." Oliver nodded, "As for what happened, you can ask Lord Discipline Bishop. I submitted the mission report not long ago, and he should have finished reading it now."
As he said that, he took out a piece of horse snacks from a small pocket and carefully fed the black horse. The dim sum was a little dry, and the shape was not very delicate, like it was homemade. The dark horse nibbled at it in small bites, his nose slapped carefully.
"Uh, okay." Hamlin looked away. "I… I've never had a chance to say it, and now my eyes are back, and I'm not a choir. I want to thank you, thank you tumbleweed—"
"My crew told me that in a pinch, you provided Mr. Cross with magic. We should thank you."
Oliver smiled and shook his head.
"About your legs... My team member said that because they didn't exist, he couldn't give you a new pair. But you can go to a necromancer named 'Meds', he may have another way. I've already written the address, on your desk, in that black envelope."
"Thank you, I'll definitely go take a look! By the way, where are you going?" Hamlin tugged at the nightgown on his body, which was completely unsuitable for a formal conversation, and he lowered his eyes a little helplessly. Having lost his sight for so long, he hardly knew where to look, even if he tried to hide his embarrassment. "If you're not busy, would you like to visit my house? I think my brother will welcome you too—"
Not knowing if he hadn't observed others for too long, Oliver Ramon smiled again. Even though the sun was shining brightly, that smile was dim and tired.
"I'm so sorry, Hamlin, another day."
The knight in black armor put away the horse snacks and looked in the direction of the gate, as if waiting for something.
Hamlin subconsciously followed the other party's gaze.
A middle-aged man in a uniform robe stepped into the backyard with the jeweler Tristan's emblem on his chest. He glanced at the two giant dragons in the yard, his neatly trimmed beard twitched, barely keeping his expression steady.
"Your order, Mr. Ramon." The middle-aged man bowed slightly and glanced at Hamlin a few steps away from the corner of his eyes.
"It's okay, I don't mind." Oliver nodded at him.
The middle-aged man first took out a neatly folded parchment roll and a quill from his pocket, and then took out an ingeniously designed small box from his chest. He imprinted the ring on the mechanism on the top of the box, and drew a rather complicated small circle in the air, and the box opened with a click.
"Your order, a pair of wedding rings." There was well-trained politeness in the man's tone. "The bill has been paid. This is the Tristan family's feedback contract. For the next ten days, you can find anyone to identify the gemstones and materials. After you are sure that there is no problem, please sign here."
Oliver fixed his gaze on the pair of simple and elegant rings inlaid with black gemstones. A few minutes later, he took the paper roll directly and signed his name neatly.
"Thank you for your trust." The middle-aged man raised his eyebrows in surprise, and continued to say thanks in a well-trained manner.
Oliver nodded politely, and then didn't look at each other again. He seemed to have completely forgotten about Hamlin and the middle-aged man, and even the two giant dragons. The young leader of the tumbleweed rubbed the rings lightly with his fingers, as if they would be melted by his heat.
After nearly half an hour, he remembered the existence of other people in the yard.
"…I'm so sorry, Hamlin," Oliver repeated. He carefully put the box into his pocket and sealed a large array of magic circles. "Another day, I... have something else to do."
"Okay." Hamlin moved his stiff neck and nodded vigorously. He tore his gaze back from the pair of rings, trying not to look too curious. It seems that Mr. Ramon is about to propose marriage in the near future. Since he holds such sweet expectations, the loneliness and exhaustion surrounding him may just be his own delusion.
"I wish you success, I, I mean proposal," he added in a low voice, taking a peek at the spire of the central church. "My brother told me, Mr. Wright, right? Denny's. Uh, it's not appropriate to mention it here, but... but I hope you are happy."
Oliver rolled over and tightened the reins. Excessive force made his knuckles slightly whitish and lose their color.
"We will," he replied, still smiling. "… But first, I need to formally introduce him to my comrades."
It wasn't an illusion this time, Hamlin thought blankly.
No matter how you look at that smile, it is extremely sad.