The survivors bury the dead, they don't know each other, they haven't talked to each other, the strangeness makes the death in hell seem less strong, just mechanically dig a pit, pick up the stump and throw it in, erase their traces, let them slowly be forgotten by the world, usher in the real end of life.

Now I hope that a heavy rain can wash away this sea of blood, so that the traces buried under the sea of blood can see the non-blood-red world again.

After burying the last of the dead, Emer straightened up and wiped the sweat from his head, and when he looked back, he could only see rows and rows of simple graves made of mounds of earth, which had no tombstones, no signatures, only one person after another who had died in the true sense of the word.

He could only take a breath, then sit down somewhere where he could see all the mounds, look at them, and start thinking.

During this time, he kept thinking about the meaning of this war, and also thinking about his own end, but he couldn't think of the answer, perhaps for him, the best end is to lie in this mound, and slowly be forgotten by the world with the soldiers who fought to the death in the unknown place.

"Fresh fruit," the melancholy voice came from Emer's side, and before he could turn his head, Lalheim sat down beside him, crossed his legs, as if to suppress his fear in a relaxed way, and looked at the graves and took a bite of the pear in his hand, "Although I have washed it many times, it still smells of blood." "

Emer just said "oh", holding the apple in both hands, and his eyes moved back, but in an instant, he had one more thing to think about, this person seemed to be a little familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had seen him, and in desperation, he could only ask: "I see you are a little familiar, have we met somewhere?"

Emel was referring to his hometown of Lalheim, where he may have stayed and met him, but Lalheim's answer made him realize that he was wrong.

"I've only seen once," Lalheim said, turning his head, a face that made Emel momentarily unable to tell if he was a man or a woman, "in Dinkma." "

"You're... The one who carried me back?" Emel remembered who he was, and couldn't help but look surprised, he was not surprised that the person in front of him was the one who had saved him once, but that the two of them could meet again alive

Lalheim replied with some anger: "You are a noble man. There was no lack of sarcasm in the tone.

"I'm sorry, too much happened", Lalheim's words eased the dead silence, but the two were still in no mood to laugh, and Emer's gaze unconsciously moved downward, and his voice was as dull as if he was in a grave, "I haven't thanked you properly yet." "

"I don't need to thank you, on the contrary, I feel that I should thank you, if it wasn't me who carried you back, then I wouldn't be alive now", Lalheim smiled bitterly, but Emel didn't respond, "Do you know how many people have died so far?".

"It should be thousands, just like the two hundred people in front of us. "

"I... Don't be afraid to say it", Lalheim swallowed, all the known facts were difficult to accept, but he had to face them squarely, "My estimate is that it is more than 100,000, I sent scouts to reconnoiter the Sea Gun Town and the Tour City in front of Domanic, and as a result, I don't know why, the inhabitants of those two cities did not retreat to the east, and the two cities totaled about 40,000 people, both old and young, women and children, without exception, the corpses were piled up in the middle of the city to form a mountain. "

After hearing this astonishing fact, Emer stared at the ground with wide eyes, his expression was bitter like a bitter gourd that had been castrated with bitter wine for several years, "We, by luck, survived", the voice was almost desperate and lifeless.

Nothing has changed, everything is, the so-called spiritual leaders, the so-called uplifting, are nothing more than forcing groups of people to face death in a different way, and it is he who has forced them into this hell, and there is no punishment in the world that can make him more painful than this moral remorse, so that he feels that he has survived until now only because he is lucky, and in fact it is.

But Lalheim is not, at this moment he is the only one who does not think that Emer's survival can be described as 'fluke', and even if he cannot empathize with the pain in Emer's heart, he must take on the responsibility of pulling Emel back from this languishing state.

"How can this be a fluke, Emer, don't you want to die like them? Just kidding, you're a hero who killed an Imperial, do you know how often we have a group of men? There will be no reinforcements at all, because there is only one chance to fight, everyone is dead, I didn't die in the second battle, I am just lucky, you are different, you have survived for the third time, this is definitely not accidental, there must be something for you to do, it is something that only you can do. "

"Only I can do it..."

"Yes!" Lalheim was even more excited when he saw that his words were effective, "Yes! Only what you can do!".

"I don't understand what you mean?".

"You don't need to understand now, you just have to wait, wait for the time when you need to choose, just wait. "

Just wait, just wait....

It's a pity that we can't wait now, and waiting will make more people die.

But Lalheim's words planted a seed in Emer's heart, and he always unconsciously thought about how to make this seed germinate.

That night, he pondered this question to the point of going mad, and he didn't close his eyes all night, thinking about what a choice was, what could he do, from the trivial matter of cutting down wood and building a house to leading an army of a thousand people to defeat the enemy army and win the victory. The meaning of 'choice' is whether he chooses to lead the soldiers behind him to charge in an absolutely defeated battle, or to flee in the desert, and in the second half of the night, he really can't figure it out, so he wants to go to Lalheim and ask what the choice is.

In order not to disturb the rest of the other soldiers, he gently pushed the door open and walked gently to Lalheim's side, but when Emel listened to the sound of his sleeping snoring, he froze in place, and he realized that in fact, everyone was already tired, and he was the only one who did not feel tired.

Thinking of this, he went back to his room to think.

Emer thought to himself that he might be able to answer this question the next morning, but before he could do it the next morning, he had already lost his new friends in the army.

At this time, one of the sentries was one of the thirty survivors, and before the change of guard, he switched places with the sentry who was supposed to be this post, saying that he didn't want to be idle and had to find something to do.

The survivor had helped bury the bodies during the day, cooked for the soldiers, lit a fire, and tried to keep himself busy as much as possible, so as not to think about anything else, he thought he was all right, but when night fell, there was no moonlight that night, and there was no fire around, so many thoughts and sounds that drove him crazy came to his mind, and he wanted to ask the sentry in the other position, "Did you hear anything", but he couldn't do that, because the sentry couldn't make a sound.

By midnight, he finally couldn't take it anymore, he went crazy and yelled.

"I've had enough, I've had enough, God, kill me!".

Suddenly, a rough voice came from behind him, "Do you want to go to Valhalla too", he felt the murderous aura behind him, and took a deep breath as if relieved, "You have a sword hanging from your waist, I can understand that we are fighting." "

The Imperials easily swung the greatsword behind his back and cut off his head.

"I hope we can meet at Valhalla, but if you're on God's side, you'll be my enemy. "

The next second, the sentry shouted out of nowhere.

"Enemy attack!".

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