Embers of Embers

Chapter 553 For Whom the Death Bell Tolls
The lead-gray clouds like an iron curtain disappeared, replaced by a blue sky. The sea was no longer calm, but with the sudden rise of the breeze, it set off waves. They were restless together, making the rhythm of nature reverberate.
In a calm, ordinary and normal world, many people are tired of boring life, but now it seems that such boredom is so precious.
On this island near the edge of the Silent Sea, amid the white snow, Shrike should have enjoyed the ecstasy of escaping from death, but now he had a more painful choice waiting for him.
"What did you say?"
Shrike held the empty silver revolver and looked up at Floki who stood up.
"A choice, a cruel and difficult choice."
Floki looked in the direction of the Silent Sea.
Countless wooden debris and some floating corpses were floating on the sea outside the island. These were the people who escaped with them. Unfortunately, they were the only ones who survived.
"A choice that goes against benevolence and morality, a choice that turns a good person into a bad person."
Floki continued talking. He walked to the scarred longboat, searching for something. Only the three of them survived the entire Narwhal, but the danger was not over yet. On the edge, if no one finds them, they will still die.
"On the other side of this island, there is a small village. It is a base where I often stay after returning from the Silent Sea. Only when we get there can we truly be safe."
After many explorations of the Silent Sea, Floki has figured out the distribution of most of the islands near the Silent Sea, and he has also established contact with the villages on it as a base for his return.
Floki rummaged through the longship and found two large bags with the logo of the Perpetual Pump on them. They were supply bags prepared by the purification agency for this operation. Shrike looked at these things with a faint uneasiness rising in his heart. rise.
"But the problem is that this place is far away from that small village. With our foot strength and the heavy snow environment, we will still have to walk for several days even if we are not injured, let alone in this condition."
Floki carried two supply bags in front of Shrike. As early as when he boarded the Narwhal, Floki had made all preparations. He asked for these supply bags from Lancelot. It was placed on his longboat as a lifeboat in case of emergency.
It can become a lifeboat for Lancelot and others, and it can also become Floki's. He has long thought about the plan after the failure of usurping the Narwhal, but it is a pity that the storm caused by the sea snake is too great, and in the end he only has this Two remain.
"How to measure a person's true worth."
Floki suddenly said loudly, with a solemn expression.
"Then let him face death and see the choices he makes."
As if he was praying, he lowered his head and looked at the shrike soon, and placed one of the two supply packages in front of the shrike.
"The time has come to make a decision, Shrike."
Floki said, picking up another supply bag and walking towards the dense forest. The branches were covered with frost, like a frozen prison.
Shrike struggled hard. He wanted to stand up, catch up with Floki, and strangle him to death with his own hands, but he couldn't do it. He turned over with great effort, saw his bleeding thigh, and saw the man lying on his back. The third survivor beside me.
"Lan...Lancelot!"
Shrike gave up chasing Floki for a moment and rushed over in horror. Lancelot was in much worse condition than Shrike. He himself was shot by Floki and went through this long process. The bumps and soaking of sea water.
Touching Lancelot's body, the temperature was freezing cold, and his muscles began to become a little stiff. Shrike patted Lancelot's face vigorously, his eyes were closed tightly on his pale face, as if he was dead.
"No...no no! You can't do this! Wake up! Lancelot! Don't fall asleep!"
Shrike called Lancelot's name repeatedly, but Lancelot didn't respond. Lying on his chest, you could still hear the faint heartbeat. This tenacious soul was not dead yet.
"no no……"
Shrike felt like the world was spinning. He grabbed a handful of snow and slapped it on his face, using the coldness to wake himself up.
[A bad choice. 】
Floki's voice kept echoing in his ears. Shrike made up his mind. He suddenly raised his head and looked towards the cold forest.
"Floki!"
Shrike roared at the top of his lungs.
Floki seemed to have guessed the shrike's reaction. He did not go far, but sat on a large rock next to the dense forest. He wiped away the snow and sat on it to recover his strength.
Shrike looked at this damned Viking, his soul was struggling, and finally said in agony.
"Help me! Floki! Help me! He's dying."
Floki looked at Shrike silently, saying nothing or doing nothing, as if admiring his despair and struggle.
The shrike clenched his fists, his knuckles turned white, and his nails dug into his flesh. Sure enough, his request for help was not answered, and it only added to the humiliation.
How to do?What else could be done?By the way, the supply pack, there are emergency medical supplies and food there. This stuff may be able to help Lancelot. As long as he reaches that village, he can survive.
Shrike thought and reached out to grab the supply bag left by Floki, and at this moment Floki's voice sounded.
"You can't save him. He lost too much blood and his death is already doomed."
Floki walked down the boulder with a hateful smile on his face.
"It's a long way from the village. This supply package is only enough for one person...it's not even enough for one person. After all, the road is long and there's wind and snow," Floki said, "If you take it If you use it on Lancelot, the result will be that his death will be delayed by a few minutes, or maybe 10 minutes, and you will also freeze to death here in a few days due to lack of supplies."
"To shut up!"
Shrike yelled, and he stood up with difficulty. He grabbed the supply bag with one hand, and put Lancelot's shoulder on himself with the other hand. He supported it and stepped forward with difficulty.
"Abandon Lancelot, walk out of here with hatred, and bring the story here back to Inverg, or should you uphold ridiculous morality and try to take him away with you...that is, die here together?" Flo Ji continued, "Actually, you can try this. Maybe you meet a hunter in the village? So both of you will be saved."
"Want to take a bet? Shrike!"
"Shut up! Shut up!"
Shrike cursed Floki repeatedly. He dragged his injured thigh and struggled to lead Lancelot forward. He couldn't think of anything else for a while, and all that was left was to move forward.
Go forward, find that village, and everyone can survive.
As if he couldn't feel the pain and fatigue on his body, Shrike carried Lancelot forward, stepping through the deep snow, and moved forward with difficulty.
"Shrike!"
Floki shouted again, and he raised his hand, which seemed to be holding something, and then Floki placed the object on the big stone where he had been.
This time Floki didn't stop any longer. He turned around and walked into the depths of the jungle. His condition was much better than that of Shrike, not to mention that Floki didn't have any burden. His pace was fast and he was gone in the blink of an eye. Disappeared from Shrike's sight.
There were footprints left by Floki on the snow, and Shrike followed the footprints closely. He didn't know the way, so he could only follow Floki like this.
Cold, fatigue, pain... negative forces shrouded the mortal will one after another, making the shrike crazy and desperate, until finally he was completely numb. After finally waking up, the shrike's consciousness began to become trance again, and his vision became blurred. , in order not to lose his direction, Shrike could only lower his head, look at Floki's footprints, and move forward with difficulty.
Go ahead and keep going.
The body also began to become numb, and in the end Shrike couldn't feel the existence of his own feet. He could only vaguely see that the two feet were still on his body, supporting his body and moving forward.
go ahead.
Still moving forward, constantly moving forward.
The progress began to become long. During the long time, Shrike tried hard to think about something to keep himself awake.
Why must we leave with Lancelot?Why do you want to save him so much when you can't even save yourself?Just because he is his boss?Or as Floki said, benevolence and morality are at work. They support Shrike and make him a "just" person.
A man shrouded in glory and holiness, with a righteous heart.
Therefore, he could not give up on Lancelot. He had to take him away, not only for justice in his heart, but also to save his life.
But...but the shrike was so tired that for a moment he wanted to die. As long as he died, he would no longer be troubled by these problems, and he would not run for other people's lives and justice...
As long as... he dies.
The struggling figure froze, Shrike fell down, Lancelot's body pressed against him, and he fell into the snowdrift, almost invisible.
Ah...the long journey is finally over.
When death came, Shrike felt peaceful and accepted it calmly.
No, it's not so much acceptance as it is escaping, escaping from these damn choices and reality, and it ends like this.
Yes, that's the end.
Then... the Shrike stood up.
He looked at the shadow cast by his body under his feet with a look of astonishment on his face.
Why...why?Why did you stand up again?
Shrike didn't understand. He had no strength left, but he just stood up and continued to step forward. His calm face began to twist, and finally he roared with hatred.
"Floki Wilgdason!"
A voice full of resentment and anger sounded, and the shrike bit forward. His legs began to shake and tremble constantly, but he still continued to move forward.
Some things cannot be compromised!Some things cannot be forgotten!Some things cannot be forgiven!
Shrike can't die yet. He wants to take Lancelot out of here alive. He wants to bring the stories that happened here back to Inverg. He wants to sharpen his claws and bring bigger and more powerful heroes with him in the not-too-distant future. The powerful armored ship returned here to take revenge on the traitors.
Kill Floki Wilgdason and cut him into pieces!
The roaring anger gave Shrike unimaginable strength. He raised his head and strode forward with Lancelot on his shoulders, but then he stopped again, and all the anger and hatred in his heart disappeared in an instant.
A stone lay in front of the shrike, like a city wall.
This is the stone where Floki stopped before, and there are also his footprints walking into the dense forest nearby.
Shrike shivered, and his body couldn't help shaking. He slowly turned his head and looked back at the road behind him. Only then did he realize that he had worked hard for so long and crossed such a "long" distance. Just a little bit.
Lancelot slipped from Shrike's body and fell into the snow, and the supply bag also fell. Without these loads, Shrike felt more relaxed than ever before.
He slowly knelt down, as if his spine had been broken, lowered his head, and then roared feebly.
Shrike kept raising his fist and slamming it on the ground, wasting his energy to vent his anger and incompetence.
[A cruel choice. 】
"what--"
The shrike kept roaring like crazy until he couldn't muster any more strength, then he ended his ridiculous behavior and leaned against the stone with dull eyes.
"It's ridiculous..."
Shrike muttered to himself.
This is not a chivalric novel. There will not be some shrike shouting the name of his enemy, and then walking out of this cold Jedi driven by hatred and anger.
This is the cruel reality. Anger and hatred cannot help Shrike. No matter how furious he is and how much he hates Floki, it cannot change the reality. What awaits Shrike is only a cold ending.
despair.
After a brief moment of hope, Shrike fell into deeper despair. He sat down and hugged his legs tightly, giving up the struggle.
He looked at Lancelot who fell on the snow. He was not dead yet. His chest was rising and falling slightly, and his breath was very weak. If he just let it go like this, Lancelot wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.
"At least...at least to the best of my ability."
Shrike said, he crawled towards Lancelot, picked up the supply bag that fell on the snow, and was about to open it, but Floki's words rang in his mind again.
If you use it for Lancelot, it will only delay Lancelot's death. The two of them can't get out of this desperate situation, but... But if you use it for yourself, if you give up Lancelot and leave alone if……
Something was growing in the shadows of his heart, whispering to the shrike, tempting the will of mortals.
"No...what if, you say so, Lancelot."
Shrike smiled sadly and opened the supply bag, preparing to use it for Lancelot.
After these successive battles and soaking in sea water, all the stitched wounds on Lancelot's body opened again and he continued to lose blood. Shrike also had wounds on his body, with metal fragments piercing his thighs. He was also losing blood, just because Due to the low temperature and numbness, the shrike cannot feel pain for the time being.
"What if, what if we meet a hunter who comes out to hunt? Yes, what if..."
Shrike muttered this over and over again, as if that would convince him of the lie.
"I will save you, Lancelot, I will, I will."
He continued to speak, but the movements of his hands stopped. Shrike lowered his head and looked at his trembling hands. He should have taken them apart and used the medicine on Lancelot, but no matter how hard Shrike tried, His hands seemed to be frozen, unable to move.
Shrike knew exactly why.
He would die. If he gave it to Lancelot, he would die here, but Shrike couldn't watch Lancelot die here.
His expression froze completely, and he looked straight at his hands, feeling despicable and facing the test of death.
His breathing became a little rapid, and suddenly there was a flash of light in his eyes, and something was shining on the big stone.
The shrike crawled over, picked it up, and shined it in the sun.
a bullet.
A bullet left behind by Floki.
The Shrike took out the silver revolver left by Floki by accident, and filled the bullets into the cylinder.
He understood Floki's intention of leaving behind weapons and bullets.
Lancelot was still alive. He fell into a coma with a painful expression. The injuries on his body were tormenting him, dragging him to death little by little. Shrike didn't know how long this torture would last, but now he could help Lancelot ends it all.
This will also make your own choices.
Raising the death knell, he pointed the gun at Lancelot expressionlessly.The pupils of the eyes are congested, and there are blue blood vessels protruding from the edge of the eye sockets.
Just pull the trigger.
Just pull the trigger.
Just pull the trigger.
The pupils of the eyes are bloodshot, and there are blue blood vessels bulging on the edges of the eye sockets.
"sorry Sorry sorry."
The shrike broke down and cried. He yelled and screamed.
He came to Lancelot's side in embarrassment, hugged the body that was gradually losing body temperature, and apologized continuously.
Dignity, morality, bottom line, ideal, mission...no matter what, they are tested in the face of death, forcing people to make choices.
After making a choice, the true value can be revealed and scrutinized.
After a long time, Shrike put down Lancelot. His eyes were blank, he opened his mouth in despair, and inserted the muzzle of the gun into his mouth.
With his finger on the trigger, Shrike raised his head and saw a patch of warm sunlight in his field of vision.
The bell rang.
……
The roars of the beasts continued, echoing in the small cabin, torturing Lan Jade's ears. She stabbed out the folding knife repeatedly and penetrated the demon's body through the cabin door. The minced meat and blood sprayed in along the cracks. Dirty dirt splashed all over Blue Jade.
Lan Jade felt that she was just a ball of rotten meat that had just been half digested. It stinked. Of course, what was more important than the smell was this damn situation.
"Wake up! Shrike! You're too sleepy!"
Lan Jade completely gave up her previous aloof image. In order to wake up the shrike, she kept thinking of words and phrases and threw them out one after another.
"What Lorenzo said can't be true! Are you really a fetishist? Are you planning to spend your life with that gun?"
It's all because of Shrike's damn fetish. He would hold the gun while sleeping, and Lan Jade couldn't pry his fingers away with one hand. If he had that gun, Lan Jade's current situation might be much better.
One of her hands was injured and she couldn't move, so she could only use the other hand to stab out the folding knife repeatedly. Under these continuous battles, the hatch was riddled with holes and became shaky, as if it would be destroyed by the demons in the next second. breakthrough.
When the time comes, Blue Jade and Shrike will be like sardines in a can, letting the monsters eat them. In such a small space, they don't even have room to hide and maneuver.
"You've been mumbling harsh words about 'For Whom the Bell Tolls' all day long, and now you're about to die in your sleep. Aren't you ashamed?"
In order to survive, Lan Jade kept cursing. In front of her, the hatch had turned into a bloody door. Because of the hatch, Lan Jade's stabs failed to hit the demons' vital parts, and the injuries were instead Stimulating their animalistic nature, they bit into the steel even more crazily.
"For whom the bell tolls..." Lan Jade said pessimistically, "Maybe it tolls for me."
His mind was in a mess... In fact, Lan Jade felt that dying here was not bad. After Kestrel's brainwashing, Lan Jade also somewhat recognized Kestrel's reasoning.
Everyone lives in the time stolen from the hands of the God of Death. Every minute they live is earned with blood. Lan Jade has earned enough. She has a pretty good life. With her mediocre soul, she has made a lot of money for herself. All of humanity has made some small contributions.
Although I'm a little reluctant to let it go, it's not a bad ending.
Lan Jade stopped attacking. She really didn't have the strength to stab out the folding knife. The folding knife itself became full of gaps. The edges of the hatch were cracking one by one. Lan Jade could see the demon's tongue spitting out along the gaps. Come in, like a snake, licking the ground greedily.
"By the way...why do you call that gun a death knell?"
Lan Jade said, she stepped on the swimming tongue, heard a scream from behind the hatch, and a smile appeared on her face.
The hatch in front of him began to shake, and more sharp claws crawled into the room along the cracked edge. The hatch began to twist, and some demons even squeezed half of their heads in, peeping at the blue jadeite with scarlet eyes.
She once again raised her pocketknife, preparing to die heroically.
And then...the hatch cracks and the bell rings!
Six heavy bullets passed by the edge of Blue Jade's body. They were like steel nails driven into the broken hatch, penetrating through flesh and bones, opening several huge blood holes in the demon's body, and the spray of blood was painted on the body. Filled the corridor.
"Why is it called Deathstroke?"
A tired voice sounded, and Lan Jade turned around in surprise, but she didn't find the shrike, but saw a scarred evil ghost. He leaned on the table, opened the drawer, held the death knell in one hand, and skillfully held the death knell in the other hand. He took out the bullets with names engraved on them from the drawer, and loaded the cylinders.
"Because this gun witnessed my despair."
The evil ghost murmured to himself. He raised the death knell and pointed it at the demons behind the hatch.
"For whom the bell tolls!"
Pull the trigger and release all the accumulated hatred in the roaring gunfire.
"The bell tolls for me!"
Flesh and steel were shattered in the roaring bells, and the broken flesh and blood were intertwined, entangled with the wails and deaths of the demons, turning into scarlet snow dust, extending to the deepest part of memory, into the dust-covered shadows. .
In the despair of those ten years ago, the evil ghost walked out of despair alone.
(End of this chapter)