Embers of Embers

Chapter 440 Hall of Valor
This will be a scene that Cornell will remember for the rest of his life. Ivar is like the monster in the nightmare. He crawls out of the darkness little by little, dragging blood, shattering the restrictions between dimensions, so personally The earth fell in front of Cornel's eyes.
He had never imagined that this guy in a wheelchair was so scary. Ivar had been hiding himself for many years and it was just for today.
A heroic death.
Die standing like a Viking warrior.
Pain and death could no longer threaten him, because that was what he wanted.
Nothing can stop him at this moment, not even the guards carrying the secret blood are his opponents. To be precise, Cornell should not have pinned his hopes on them.
After all, the choir guards are implanted with secret blood that tends to be stable. Its power is not as powerful as that of the demon hunters, but it is at least stable enough that even a cowardly mortal heart can easily control it.
What you ask for, you have to give.
Therefore, such mediocre secret blood can only bring power slightly beyond ordinary people. Its power lies in its ability to create countless warriors who are beyond ordinary people.
Guys like this are no match for Ivar from the beginning. They possess the secret blood, but they don't have the heart to control it, the heart of a lion, or the fear of death.
"You madman! Do you know what you are doing? How many people will die from this!"
When he said this, Cornell himself found it ridiculous, and he was also one of the promoters of the war, but when it really came, unlike the crazy Curry, all he had was panic and fear.
The so-called honor and merit are just words to decorate war, distorting the cruel and bloody truth into something that people can accept.
He felt sick and nauseous at his own naive thoughts.
But this also just proves that Cornell is an ordinary person, not a monster like Currie, Ivar, or Lawrence. They are all monsters, driven by an iron will, and they will do whatever it takes to achieve that lofty goal.
"Such words are too childish. Cornel Garrel, you are going to be the king. How can you say such words?"
A calm voice sounded under the dark face. Ivar was not laughing at Cornel, but simply stated the facts calmly.
"Damn...how can there be people like you in the world?"
Cornel retreated in panic. With only his rationality, he grabbed the handle of the gun and did not shoot indiscriminately. The remaining bullets were his only hope. Once he was empty, he didn't think he could defeat Ivar.
The guy in front of him is not an ordinary person at all. There is a crazy lion's heart in his broken body. He has the blood of Rod Brok in his body. The ghost of the ancestor's mad war is leaning over him at this moment, taking him to the sacred heroic spirit. temple.
The hot turbid air was swallowed, and Ivar moved forward slowly, dragging his bloody knees. His movements were like crawling, but such ridiculous movements brought an unstoppable sense of oppression, as if there was a steel barrier blocking the way. Moving forward bit by bit, it will run over anything that stands in its way.
"You lunatics are so abominable, why!"
Cornel didn't understand. He couldn't understand the beliefs of the Vikings at all.
"Why! People like you, madmen who have killed countless people, shouldn't you fall into the hell of divine punishment after death? Why is it that beautiful Hall of Valor that welcomes people like you?"
The fear he had never had before, this powerless despair, and even tears welled up from his eyes, mixing with the blood.
Although he has been isolated from faith since he was a child, as a Gallican, he still knows a lot about faith in Cornell.
Good people will go to heaven and sinners will go to hell.
He had always heard these words mentioned by pastors, but in fact it was not like that at all. The world was real and cruel, and far from as beautiful as described in the teachings, but at least such words could soothe people's hearts.
But the beliefs of these Vikings are completely different. They regard killing as good and death in battle as honor.
In the past, Cornel just smiled at these things, but now facing Ivar, he really felt the deformity and madness of this belief.
"Why do murderers have wonderful things coming to them!"
Cornel roared incomprehension.
Like Yvars, his hands were stained with blood, and sometimes Cornier thought he would go to hell after death, and he would have restless insomnia at night.
But why does Ivar, who is also stained with blood, feel that he can usher in good things?
why?
"Do you think...the Hall of Valor is really beautiful?"
As the sound rang out, Ivar was very close to Cornell, so close that he might be able to touch Cornell's feet if he stretched out his hands hard, but he stopped, as if resting, and scratched randomly with his hands. One after another blood stains were smeared on the ground.
"I will meet my ancestors in the Hall of Valor, telling them about my achievements and sharing the glory."
Ivar tightened his grip on the steel again and pushed himself up. His damaged knees struggled hard, and the blood-smeared ground was a little slippery. He fell down before he could stand up.
"God Odin will treat me with the most delicious food and drink strong wine with me."
Ivar's voice was muffled and he fell but could not get back up.
Listening to his sleepy voice, Cornel reacted belatedly.
The monster in front of him was lying in a pool of blood like a wild dog. His body was full of wounds from the fight with the guards. Every wound penetrated into the flesh and blood, and even protruding broken bones could be seen. The person's perspective is twisted, and all actions from the beginning are controlled by a strong will.
Ivar is not a monster, he is human, an ordinary person.
At this moment, he was already exhausted. The hot blood was cooling down little by little, and his beating heart was gradually getting tired. His eyelids were heavy and almost closed completely, longing for sleep.
He is going to die.
But he can't die yet. Ivar has done something wrong, and he has to bear the price. He is willing to be a sacrifice in this war, and he is also willing to pay his life for the short-term beauty.
One code equals another, he thought clearly.
Cornel got up in embarrassment, his chest heaving violently, and he raised his gun and pointed it at Ivar. He could see that his body was still heaving slightly, and he was not dead yet.
"Do you think that's wonderful?"
Ivar asked again, but this time Cornell did not answer him, but pulled the trigger.
Amidst the roaring gunfire, the burst of fire ignited the darkness again. For a brief moment, Cornell saw a somewhat sad face.
He was then tackled and steel penetrated his wrist.
The whole person fell into the blood, and his senses became extremely sharp for some reason. Cornel could clearly hear the sound of blood rushing out of his body, his heart beating in panic, and death caressed his cheek bit by bit. Take him to the world after death.
He could no longer scream. Under the huge fear, Cornel even found it difficult to think.
Ivar's battle is not over yet. He fell in a pool of blood not by choosing death, but by accumulating strength and opportunity. His broken body stepped on Cornel's body, and he stood up staggeringly, so tall, Like mountains.
"The heroic spirits after death will fight in the hall, and then be resurrected the next day to fight again...the fighting will never end..."
Ivar's voice was calm.
"Do you think this is beautiful? Cornel Garrel."
Ivar slowly pulled the steel out of his wrist, held it high, and asked him questions.
The sound struck Coniel's heart like a heavy hammer.
Is this really beautiful?
Fighting forever, never getting any sleep.
To wake up is to die, and to die is to fight and die again after waking up.
This is a reincarnation that can never be released, just like human history.
War, peace, until everyone gathers strength again and joins the war.
Cornel couldn't figure it out. He couldn't answer this question, but in a daze he seemed to see the Hall of Valor. Countless warriors were fighting together. Their bodies were covered with scars, breathing in the cold air and spraying hot heat. of blood.
They fell one by one, woke up when the sun rose the next day, grabbed the weapons beside them and threw themselves into the battle again.
There is no end, no relief.
This is real hell.
Cornel's heart grew cold.
He thought, this is a curse, the curse of mankind.
The nameless god is cursing mankind. Isn't this entire world a huge Hall of Valor?People are born to fight and die, and new children are born to throw themselves into the hatred of their parents.
The light of the candlelight fell on the raised steel, and Cornel's blurred face was reflected on it. The self in the mirror seemed to be whispering something, and he was announcing his death.
Now Cornel has calmed down instead, he looked at the face under the shadow without emotion, Cornel thought that Ivar must also be sad and desperate at this moment.
Ivar couldn't change anything. All he could do was hope for a better future until his death. This was the last thing he could do for the Viking countries.
Cornel closed his eyes and calmly welcomed the arrival of death.
The cooled blood dripped down, across Cornell's face, and fell to the ground. Strangely, the expected death did not arrive.
He opened his eyes and saw a sculpture-like figure.
Ivar held the steel high, standing twisted, his face hidden in the shadows, time seemed to have frozen on him, and his furious will was firmly fixed at this moment.
No more breath.
he died.
In an instant, countless thoughts collided with Cornell's mind. There was no fear, no joy, nothing.
As if he had lost all emotion, he pushed away Ivar's stiff body and climbed up from the pool of blood with an expressionless face.
"The never-ending cycle of reincarnation..."
He muttered softly, tore off the fabric and wrapped it around the wound on his wrist.
It's over, this crazy fight to the death is finally over.
Cornel stepped back slowly, his eyes still on Ivar's body. He thought that Ivar should have been taken to the Hall of Valor by the Valkyrie at this moment.
So, where is the Viking paradise?Or hell?
Cornel couldn't figure it out, but at least Ivar died standing up as a warrior in the end.
"Farewell, Ivar Lodbrok."
Cornel finally said this, and escaped from the deep darkness.
The dark and quiet corridor was mixed with the lingering sounds of beasts and steel. It seemed that someone was fighting and fighting somewhere. There was a flickering candlelight outside the window with singing, and a blurred light spot hit Cornell's body.
None of this had anything to do with him, and Cornell stared into the void ahead.
He didn't quite know how to describe this moment. Ivar's last appearance was firmly engraved in his mind, and no matter how he tried to disperse it, he couldn't break free.
Cornel began to think about other things.
Now all the anger and hatred has nothing to do with him, he is thinking about something extremely important.
Some people say that growth is slow. It takes countless years and a long baptism before a boy can transform into a man. But some people say that growth happens in an instant. In a not too bad moment, you suddenly become a man. Think everything through.
At the moment of Ivar's death, Cornel thought everything through.
(End of this chapter)