Brando turned his head and looked at the child who hit him with one head. The other person had already sat down on the thick and soft carpet in the hall. He was seven or eight years old, with black hair and pitch black under his small sword eyebrows. There is a kind of perseverance that is different from ordinary people hidden in the big eyes. The little boy looked at him suspiciously. He was wearing the kind of silk servant clothes that children in aristocratic families often wore, white tights, and a pair of pointed boots studded with jewels and gold leaf, and a silver dinner plate. Scattered beside him, various dishes were spilled on the floor, and the sauce-red juice slowly seeped into the carpet.
Time seemed to freeze for a moment.
It must take a lot of money to replace that expensive camel hair carpet, because these handmade carpets are only produced in the Silver Bay, and merchants use slave animals to carry these exquisite plush fabrics through the desert and travel thousands of miles. Came to Eruin just to earn a huge profit that is more expensive than gold. This weird thought flashed through Brando's mind for a moment, and the little boy was familiar in his eyes. He squinted his eyes and was thinking about seeing each other there, when a gentle voice came in: "Sir, sorry. "
Brando seemed to tighten every pore, his muscles and skin tightened together, and stiffly raised his head in the direction of the sound, and then his whole body was nailed there.
An aristocratic couple, dressed in clothing that fits this era, that is, in the later period of Eruin's revival, imitating the simple but exquisite style of the Haibero dynasty of the upper class of the self-wind elves. While holding up the little boy, they smiled apologetically to Brando: "Sophie, quickly apologize to others, look, you have soiled this gentleman's clothes."
Brando watched this scene silently, although the two memorable words in his heart were tumbling, as if they would blurt out at any time, but he couldn't say anything. He never dreamed that at this time, in such an environment, he would see his parents in his dreams.
The noble couple who appeared in front of him were exactly the same as the two faces in his memory, or even younger, or almost the same as his childhood memories. Yes, he was only seven or eight years old at that time, and he often went to the amusement park near his home with his parents. He glanced at the little boy.
"I'm sorry, sir." The young Sophie patted the dirt on her body and raised her head to apologize to him without humility.
Brando pursed his lips quietly.
He understands that this is his own in his heart and his parents, because this is his confusion in this dream. There are fogs in the hearts of mortals. These fogs exist in the dreams of the unknown. I don't know when Will envelop you.
And now, he walked into the mist that he had been unwilling to face. The enemy of a mortal is actually himself, because only he understands what he fears the most, and this nightmare is just like the description, hitting the most fragile place in his heart.
Brando reluctantly pulled out a smile from his stiff face: "It's okay." He tried to control himself so that he would not behave so badly, but in fact immediately wanted to find an excuse to escape. He saw his parents look at their young self. It was a look with protection and expectation. Brando understood the meaning of that look.
"Sir, you seem to have something on your mind?" her mother asked while looking at him.
"No, no..." Brando almost lost his breath and shook his head quickly.
"It's normal for young people to have things on their minds. You may not believe it. My husband and I felt kind when seeing you. So please give us a chance to express our apologies. We can invite you to sit there for a while. Huh?" The face of the familiar woman in the memory looked at him kindly, but the look of tolerance and kindness made him almost collapse.
Brando took a deep breath and let the cold air seep into the lung lobes, so as to calm himself down: "Of course I'm happy, but I still have some things to deal with. It's really... I'm sorry, I can only leave first. "After speaking, he saluted the couple deeply, then turned and ran away, as if he was afraid that if he stayed for a while, he would be exposed to his original identity.
If so, he doesn't even know what he should face them.
He pursued that shining trajectory in that world, changing the fate of this ancient kingdom. But does it really make sense? For a moment he even felt at a loss, he could really answer them without regrets-all this makes sense? Or maybe he was wrong at the beginning. Does everything he pursues really exists
Brando was not so sure for the first time.
He didn't even dare to turn his head, plunged into the crowd, sweating profusely, even after experiencing the battle of Ampersel, he had never been so nervous at this moment. He looked at the faces of the nobles, a little distorted and enlarged, as if they were the image of a devil, there seemed to be a voice calling him, to drag him to hell.
"Teacher!" The voice suddenly became clear, as if possessing power, and grabbed his arm. As a strong man with civilized elements, Brando was almost pulled to the ground. He turned his head sweating profusely. He first saw a slender arm with long silver gloves. He raised his head, and then See the Qingming eyes of His Royal Highness.
"Teacher?" Haruze looked at him worriedly.
"Haruze?" Brando was startled slightly, and finally woke up. He looked up and didn't see Princess Griffin, so he asked, "Where is your sister? Have you finished talking with her?"
"Almost, but I don't understand—" The little prince frowned, revealing a deeply worried expression. He frowned like his sister, especially with his long silver hair curling his neck slightly and lowering his head, just like Princess Griffith, and he was dumbfounded to see Brando.
This also dispelled some of the confusion in his heart and made him a little calmer. At that moment, he thought of Princess Griffin, of Freya, and of the mountains of Roman and Bouche. These things existed tangibly, Brando felt a little at ease, but he understood that they were buried. The thorn in my heart just hides its edge.
"I understand what you want to know..." Brando replied flatly.
"Where is this, teacher? Why did it become like this? Didn’t we defeat Grand Duke Sifah in Ampersel? Duke Anlek became a wanted man in the temple, as long as the south and the north were united. , Eruin can restore his former glory again, isn't it?" The little prince held his hand tightly, as if he was really a helpless girl.
"But why did it become like this..."
"I, I asked my sister about her... There was no Mr. Brando, there was no battle of Ampersel, and her sister was married to Grand Duke Anleck. The old nobles swarmed around the people who gave them their best interests, even the royal party. Standing on the opposite side of the kingdom. And Madara... Why did the undead sequence become so powerful? Sister Freya... Sister Freya is also dead... How could this happen, we obviously... Obviously... ”
Haruze had some steam in his eyes. He bit his lip and tried to resist it before crying: "Sister, she said she will die here, teacher, please help your sister..."
Brando sighed in his heart. He could understand the despair in the little prince's heart, because they had experienced such despair personally, their efforts seemed to be denied by an invisible hand, hope was turned into nothingness, ideals and beliefs were destroyed bit by bit, and the road ahead seemed to be only left. Endless darkness.
But if it weren't for such hopelessness, how could he get to where he is today
He touched the little prince’s head and replied: "Haruze, this is just a dream. Did you forget what I told you? The unnamed person twisted your dream, just trying to get you into it. All the absurd scenes seen here are his means to confuse you."
Haruze raised his head with red eyes and looked at him: "Teacher, I know that you are actually lying to me, right? These things have actually happened, although I don't know where they are, maybe in the future, Maybe it was in the past, but I know that they are not all false."
Brando's heart was shocked, he looked at the little prince: "Haruze, why do you say that?"
"I don't know... I just have a hunch, I'm a little scared, teacher."
Worthy of being an apocalypse, this is not inferior to Roman's sixth sense. Brando shook his head slightly: "In the eyes of the ancient Cruz people, history overlaps, because different branches of history will extend different results. Whenever history turns into a fork, it appears at the same time node. Two results, the witches believe that each branch will give birth to a new world, these worlds overlap each other, and we are just passing through them."
Brando suddenly thought that maybe it was really possible, otherwise he would not be able to explain his experience. But it’s a pity that it’s just a legend after all, and no one can verify its authenticity: “Perhaps all of this has happened in different histories, but it’s just a dream after all. We have changed our own destiny—not that Nimesis said Well, we should have a destiny-changing sword in our hands."
"Really?"
"Perhaps, no one has seen it after all." Brando replied with some guilty conscience.
After regaining his calm, his mentality became more calm. But at this time, he felt the smell of blood and burnt smell in the air become stronger. He turned his head, everyone in the hall was talking loudly, but no one seemed to notice this.
Only at this time the hall suddenly became quiet.
Then the door in the middle of the corridor on the second floor suddenly opened, and a row of knights walked out from behind. Then Brando saw the senior sister and the black tea, and there were many familiar faces behind them, all from the Crimson Traveler team. Finally, behind everyone, a noble and elegant figure walked out slowly.
There was no sound in the hall.
Everyone focused on that direction.
Brando frowned slightly, the scene in his memory seemed to be carved in his heart, and he would never forget it. He subconsciously tilted his head in one direction. If he remembered correctly, the assassin would open the door in that direction and enter the hall when no one was paying attention.
But what surprised him a bit.
The door was closed and there was no movement.
"What's the matter? History has become different?" Brando was startled slightly.