On November 16, cloudy turned overcast.
A ceremony is being held on a small island offshore, attracting tourists from all over the world to visit the Adorat Festival every year.
Adorat Island is backed by the sea, and there is a mountain on the island. There are ancient and artificially polished traces on the mountain, which spiral upward layer by layer. On it are rows of tombstones and groups of crosses. Pointing to the sky, it has stood for thousands of years, and mottled moss has grown in the corners.
This small island is the world-famous Adorat Cemetery.
The heavy death knell sounded on the top of the mountain, the voice of people was faint, and every tourist could not help but keep silent.
Because this is the final resting place of heroes.
It is said that the Adorat Cemetery was built 2,000 years ago and was funded by the Temple. The earliest people buried here were Templars who gave their lives to resist foreign aggression.
This tradition continues to this day. After a person dies, if the temple agrees that he or she lives in Adorat Cemetery, then the deceased's partner, parents or children, will be honored tax-free for life in recognition of the citizen's work during his lifetime. outstanding contribution.
As for the tradition of offering sacrifices on November 16, it started with a great war 1,200 years ago.
At that time, a group of cults calling themselves "Black Robes" sprang up across the continent. Like the notorious Black Death, they swept across more than a dozen countries. In order to deal with this group of idiots, the countries on the continent that were originally facing catastrophe finally decided to form a coalition army, commanded by the Archbishop of the Temple in Sara State.
After three years of war, this group of pioneers of world terrorism was finally wiped out.
It was on November 16th that the leader of the black robe, the terrorist leader Parola, who had limited creativity and called himself Satan, was killed, thus dramatically ending the three-year war.
The name of the hero who killed the big villain is still passed down to this day, and his name is Carlos Frarete.
In the Adorat cemetery 1,200 years later, the handsome blond man and the old cemetery keeper stopped in front of the tombstone with this name written on it. Next to the tombstone was a statue of Carlos Frarete—he His body was covered with heavy armor, under which his strong arms and chest muscles were exposed. He had a square face, with a pair of firm and deep eyes, looking towards the direction of the sea in the distance, with a calm expression.
The half-length hair of the blond man was tied back, a little disheveled by the wind. He had a pair of gentle light brown eyes hidden behind rimless glasses, squinting slightly to stare at the statue in front of him: "Carlos is like this What? My mother's last name was Fraret before she married, and we still don't have a portrait of him in our house."
The guard followed his gaze and raised his head: "Carlos Frarete is like a ghost. He has never left any portraits in his life. After the Black Robe Rebellion, there has been no news about him. There is no record of him anymore. .Even this tomb built to commemorate him is just an empty coffin, as if he never existed."
The blond laughed. "If he didn't exist, the kids who grew up hearing his stories would rebel."
"However, it doesn't matter that Adorat Festival Day is inseparable from this person." The guard also smiled, "Speaking of... Gal, why did the temple send you, a busy man, on this anniversary day? Out?"
"It's my turn to be the rookie's guide. I'll go back to the temple tomorrow and just pass by Adorat. Come and see you." Gal stretched his waist, and the distant sea breeze gently blew his face, "Just now After completing a task, I will have half a month's vacation in the future... To be honest, I almost forgot how to spell the word vacation."
The watchman turned around and looked down at the people attending the sacrifice.
They were men, women, young and old, spoke different languages, and had different skin colors, but they all looked at the land of the dead that occupied the entire hillside with the same awe.
The watchman stretched out his cane and nodded down the mountain: "Look at them, and you will feel that your hard work is worth it. The temple will always be proud of you."
At this time, the memorial ceremony was coming to an end, the death knell stopped, a group of children in white clothes lined up and let the pigeons fly, and the tourists came over one after another, picked off the white flowers on their chests, and placed them at the foot of the mountain.
The clear and slow voice of the narrator came from the wind: "The earliest Adorat Festival was to commemorate the great hero Carlos Frarete. According to legend, he was born in a noble family and was the youngest son. Sent to the temple to study... ”
"The temple did not admit him because he is the youngest son of a noble family." The guard slowly turned around on crutches and walked down the mountain. Gal was not in a hurry to follow, he stretched out his fingers and gently twirled twisted.
Then a miraculous thing happened, a blooming white rose flower bloomed between his fingers without anyone noticing, he bent down, and put the flower that seemed to have water drops under the statue, this Just took a step forward and followed the pace of the elderly.
The roses that had been put down suddenly grew dense vines, gently wrapping around the feet of the statue, as if planting a wreath under his feet.
"At that time, the 'enchantment' had not yet been formed, and the world was not so peaceful. 'Difu' was everywhere. Tantric records say that when Carlos was a toddler, a difu slipped into Flaret's house. At that time, a 'temple hunter' was a friend of old Mr. Fraret, who happened to be a guest at his house. When they rushed over, they found that the unlucky difu was disturbed by the crying of the baby. Shrunk into a ball in fright."
"Ah, yes, that's the legendary talent of light." Gal adjusted his glasses and shrugged, "It's a special case among hundreds of millions of people. It is said that there was only one such genius in the Flaret family in a thousand years. , and his unlucky descendant, I spent my entire youth in such a shadow."
"He's not as lucky as you think." The guard glanced at him with a smile. "Everyone doesn't know that the path of this genius is not going well."
It was the first time Gal heard about his glorious and mysterious ancestor, and he couldn't help turning his head: "What?"
"He was once expelled from the temple." The guard sighed and said in a low voice, "He was originally a spoiled young master, but he has been wandering around all those years, under the alias of 'John Smith', He hasn't shown his face for many years, and no one knows where he went, until the darkest battle broke out, and he reappeared in front of people without anyone noticing."
"Deportation?" Gal frowned, "Why?"
"Paraola is not the leader of a cult as the people know. In fact, he is a 'hunter' of the temple. He betrayed his belief and was possessed by Satan." The guard said, "Paraola Carlos was framed, and for some unknown reason, this reticent and stubborn hero did not justify himself. After that battle, when all the truth came to light, the Temple planned to correct its mistakes and put When the glory was returned to him, the most loyal and brave child, he mysteriously disappeared again, never appeared again, and rejected the reconciliation of the temple with the most stubborn gesture."
Gall asked: "Do you think he ran away this time?"
"Who knows? But I once found a few pages of notes of Archbishop Leo Altar in the tantric documents. They were handwritten on parchment. On the paper page, there is a line of "Carlos" written three times in very messy handwriting, which is pierced through the back of the paper, and a few words are missing at the back, and an incomplete "sorry" can be barely discerned." The guard walked down with some difficulty. Stairs, declined Gal's help, "Got a child, although I'm an old man, I haven't reached the point where I can't move."
"The greatest Archbishop Leo Aldo?"
"Yes, calculated according to the year, the time when Archbishop Altar entered the temple was basically at the same time as Carlos Frarete. There are rumors that they used to be good friends, but it seems... the relationship broke down in the end. The guard walked down the long stairs step by step, with sweat dripping from his forehead, "But what does it matter? The hunters swore to protect this continent the moment they entered the temple, and they will never change until death. Regardless of whether Carlos wants the glory given by the Temple, he will always show up when the people need him, even if the Temple no longer pays his salary."
Gal thought for a while and said, "Actually, I've always found it strange that a protracted war would end because of one person. Of course, intellectually speaking, we all know that's impossible."
"Regarding this point, the most guessed by the historians of the temple is that this was deliberately done by the temple to compensate the children who ran away from home who were stubborn and refused to forgive it. However, even so, Carlos Still just disappeared. This is of course very strange, the hunters were selected into the temple when they were young children, lived and studied here, and they all loved the temple as much as they loved their hometown, even if they had been wronged and Insult... So some people say that the reason why Carlos disappeared was actually because he died in that battle, but the battlefield was so tragic that people failed to recognize his body."
Many years have passed, and the "temple" itself has become a religious symbol. It accepts a large number of tourists every year, and even opens a new tourism business. After many old hunters retire, they return to the temple to work as guides The work, of course, is bullshit - the Temple produced it in unison.
And the work done by the Templar Hunters who were once called "knights" has gradually moved underground with the development of industry and science, and has become an unknown profession.
Difu hunts humans, and hunters hunt Difu.
No one can tell exactly what kind of difu are, where they come from, and why they appear in this world.
Difu are creatures because they can be killed—they feed on people, some like blood, some like organs, some like brains, some like souls.
Many years ago, they were like wild dogs in the country, poking their heads out from a certain corner at any time, greedily coveting their prey, and they were once one of the greatest enemies of human beings on this prosperous continent.
The strongest existence that can command other Difu is called "Satan" or "Devil". The "Black Robe Rebellion" was actually not a rebellion of a group of refugees, but a demon descended into the world and attached to Parola. In the entire history of mankind, "demons" have only descended twice, one time is too long to be tested, and the other time is the famous "Black Robe Rebellion".
Exactly why such a catastrophe occurred has been debated endlessly by the scholars of the temple for thousands of years, and there is no reason for it.
After the Black Robe Rebellion, Archbishop Leo Aldo exhausted his energy and led a group of great hunters to establish an enchantment, ending the dark age of Difuman Street, and the archbishop also paid his life for this.
This is how the era of peace came under the protection of the sacrifices of the predecessors. So far, there has been no Difu rebellion on the mainland for thousands of years. Soon to be caught by hunters.
So much so that although people remember the names of the heroes, they have confused their achievements.
But... it's actually not bad.
Gal Shawden, whose mother's surname is Flaret, as the last descendant of Flaret, graduated from the temple at the age of eighteen, and received the symbol of "the best hunter" at the age of twenty-two. He became the youngest gold medal hunter in three hundred years.
This is of course attributable to the blood of "Flaret", not to say that the gene still exists after thousands of years of inheritance, but the name "Carlos" is like a shadow, submerging his entire teenage years in it, Forcing Gal to continue to grow stronger.
According to the rules of the temple, the new hunters who graduate every year will have excellent seniors—most of them are gold medal hunters, who will be their guides for a year and lead them to do tasks until the rookies can take charge of their own. This year it is finally his turn.
After attending the Adorat sacrifice that night, Gal first returned to his home in Sara State.
He lives in a small villa in the middle of the mountain, and the salary of the temple has always been generous. He used his position to travel around, provided photography manuscripts for several fashion magazines, and even published a few travel notes, which is considered a little famous. These royalties also brought him a considerable income.
Mid-Levels is a typical wealthy area. The distance between houses is relatively large, and they will not disturb each other, but they will not be far away. There are unified community services, and there are supermarkets, parks and even schools in the community, which is very convenient.
He backed the car into the garage. The weeds in the garden are regularly trimmed by the gardener. Even if he doesn’t come back for half a year, it doesn’t look too scary. Gal whistled briskly, feeling full of the desire to go home and rest. Lazy pleasure.
At this moment, there was a slight tremor on the ground, but Gal didn't pay attention to it—occasionally there would be some small and innocuous earthquakes along the coast, most of which were below four on the Richter scale and would not cause much damage. But after a slight tremor, there was a sudden noise from the evergreen bushes behind him, as if something had fallen.
It wasn't a squirrel, nor was it a cat or a dog... Galton stopped. He felt that it should be a larger animal, and there were often some larger herbivores in the mid-level area by mistake.
There was a smell of blood in the air. He followed the smell and found a corner of human clothes exposed in the bushes.
Gal subconsciously stepped lightly, put one hand behind his side, and cautiously opened the bushes, and then he saw... a person, a man, was lying inside.
The man's long hair tumbled out of the colorless headband, covered with dust and dried blood, covering his entire face and half of his body, wearing a tattered robe, The chest was already wet with blood, soaking through the bandages that were originally wrapped there, revealing the shocking scars all over the body.