Late at night.

South of Fort Watch, Raven Forest.

The man with a heavy wooden box on his back ran under the quiet night sky, burrowed sideways through the cracks of the boulders, jumped over the low bushes, and his figure was like a shadow shuttling through the darkness.

He looked back from time to time, but he didn't notice that the sweat had already wet the placket behind his back.

The farther south you go, the trees thicker and the roads steeper, and the solid ground is gradually replaced by soft wetlands.

The man looked up in the direction of the moon and turned his head to listen to the movement around him. The rustle of the leaves in the wind and the sound of the grass hitting the stones made him clench his fists nervously.

Climb up the mound next to you with your hands and feet, and just want to jump off the slope on the other side.

The sound of the bow breaking through the wind suddenly exploded.

A silver-glowing crossbow bolt struck him at the ankle.

Almost instinctively, the man leaned to the side and pushed his feet forward, narrowly avoiding the attack.

Slowly rising from the ground, he put the wooden box behind him on the ground and shouted towards the empty forest, "Come out!

The sound of urns and the sound of urns resounded among the trees.

"Filthy rats in the sewers, their screams before they die are always so harsh. ”

Three men and one woman slowly walked out of the shadows into the moonlight.

A tall man at the front, wearing Anglo chain mail. Beneath the full-covered iron mask, a pair of emotionless eyes stared at the wooden box placed on the ground.

The short and fat man with the crossbow machine carried the weapon on his shoulder, and looked at the wary runaway in front of him with a playful look, and his voice was as low and rough as before: "Marcos Byrne, we have been following you for a long time, so long that you can't imagine it. ”

Quietly pulling out the dagger from his waist, Marcos adjusted his breath and slashed through the skin with the blade. The blood flowed through the metal surface of the weapon, and instead of dripping into the soil as expected, it stuck to the surface of the sword like grease.

Once the blood covered the entire blade, Marcos tore open the hem of his clothes with his teeth, using the strips of cloth as bandages to bandage the wounds.

"Let the horses come. ”

He swung the blade of his sword into the air, and the violent friction under the vigorous shaking actually ignited the entire short sword, and the color of the flame was not ordinary red and yellow, but faintly purple and black.

The short and fat man's eyes narrowed slightly, and he put the crossbow machine back on his chest, took out a pitch-black crossbow arrow from his back, and whispered, "The xenomorph of the 'sun'......"

The man in the iron mask shook off his chain mail and took a step forward.

The woman, who was shrouded in the white robe of the church, made a voice: "Boss, you don't have to do it yourself......"

The leader slowly drew his two-handed sword behind his back, and thrust it into the ground in front of him, clearly and unambiguously expressing his command. The other three team members had no more objections and silently stepped back.

Marcos held his lit dagger diagonally over his chest and looked at the man who stood still as tall as a mountain not far away. The opponent's blade was still stuck in the earth, and his body did not move in the slightest, but cold sweat slowly flowed down Marcos's face.

Stepping the tip of his right foot into the earth, a black flame that seemed to rise from hell swept forward, and the air and dust instantly became scorched by the heat, and the tip of Marcos's sword instantly appeared in front of the leader's face.

The man, whose face was completely covered in iron armor, moved, and his foot kicked the greatsword in the earth, and the huge force brought up the dirt and fallen leaves, and slammed into Marcos's body, forcing the opponent's body to lag for a moment.

The two-handed sword was raised from the bottom left to the top right.

The swords collided, and the flames flew everywhere.

The owner of the short sword was knocked off by the force of this attack, and he staggered back a few steps.

The Man in the Iron Mask thrust his weapon into the earth again, resting his hands on the hilt of his sword, not chasing after the victory, nor taunting him, just waiting...... Quietly waiting.

Marcos knelt on one knee, grabbed the trunk of the tree behind him with one hand, and plunged his short sword diagonally into a pool of stagnant water in the other, and the flames of the sword body were not extinguished by the water, but burned more and more. There was not a trace of fear or frustration in his eyes, only a burning and endless battle intent.

For the first time, the eyes of the Iron Mask changed in mood, the head bowed slightly, the two-handed sword was pulled out of the soil, and the leader raised his weapon for the first time and assumed a combat posture.

Another sword strike.

The deafening sound startled the roars of animals deep in the forest.

The dagger was still barely in Marcos's hand, but the blood-soaked jaws and embarrassed footsteps showed that the warrior was struggling.

The two sides exchanged several more rounds.

Taking advantage of a flaw, the Man in the Iron Mask reversed the hilt of his sword and struck him directly into the abdomen, forcing Marcos to let out a dull roar and fall to his knees.

"To live or to die?"

The blade of the greatsword pointed at the chest of the fallen man, and the leader of the team stopped the other three with one hand and held the hilt of the sword with the other.

Marcos, who was on his knees, trembling all over, dropped his jagged dagger with his right hand and fell to the ground.

Seeing this scene, the other three people in the team breathed a sigh of relief.

The short and fat man put down the crossbow machine in his hand and said disdainfully: "A mouse is a mouse......

The voice did not fall.

At first it was a low chuckle, then a wild laugh, and Marcos suddenly reached forward with both hands, firmly grasped the Iron Mask's greatsword, and lunged forward with all his might, the blade passing through his chest and back. A large amount of blood splattered out, not a single drop spilling to the ground, but instead enveloping the Iron Mask's greatsword and armor like a "shroud".

Spitting blood, the xenomorph stared at the eyes behind the steel with blood-red eyes, and said word by word: "Life to death!"

Rumble!

The blood that flowed out burned instantly, and the black-purple fire burned fiercely, and the purgatory-like flame cage devoured the two of them.

“...... Do you have any children?"

Marcos, who was clutching the Man in the Iron Mask, suddenly heard this sentence in his ears as the flames scorched his whole body.

Thinking it was an auditory hallucination, he raised his head with the last of his strength and looked at the other party in the karmic fire.

"Do you have any children?"

After reconfirming, Marcos understood that this sentence was indeed coming from the other party's mouth.

Marcos, who had not yet married a wife, subconsciously shook his head, but a vivid black figure appeared in his mind.

As if he didn't care about the black and purple flames around him, the iron-masked man nodded slightly.

"That's good......"

The two-handed sword was drawn and slashed, and it was done in one go.

The last thing Marcos saw was ......

The iron-masked man, whose whole body was burning, stretched out the palm of his right hand to his chest, and the sky-high flames were instantly inhaled into his body, and only bursts of green smoke slowly rose from his armor.

The battle is over.

The stocky man put away his weapon, put on his gloves, and picked up Marcos' head.

Looking at the shapeless remains in his hand that had been burned by the flames, he shouted loudly to the leader in the distance: "Boss, how many xenos should this 'sun' be marked?"

The man in the iron mask picked up the wooden box on the ground, crushed the wood on the top of the box with one hand, looked at the full stone inside, and said without looking back, "Five." ”

Hearing the answer, the short and fat man took out a delicate small iron box from his bag and opened the lid. It was filled with iron seals and divided into two rows.

The upper row contains 22 seals with the words "chariot", "tower", and "judgment" in Latin, and 12 seals in the lower row, each with numbers from "I." to "XII."

First I found the seal with the word "Sun" in the upper row, and then the seal with the word "V." in the bottom row. Then, the short and fat man turned on the charcoal stove he had with him, and roasted the seal on the red-hot coals for a while, and finally pressed it down the forehead of Marcos' skull.

"'Sun V.'......" The short and fat man put the head of the deceased with the engraved seal into a cloth bag, put it in his bag, and whispered, "It's only five, I thought it would be higher." ”

Throwing away the wooden box in his hand, the man in the iron mask looked at the scattered stones and was silent for a long time.

In the night sky, an owl fluttered its wings and landed on the arm of the white-robed woman.

The woman teased the little messenger's face, untied a log pipe from its ankle, took out the note inside, and read the contents in front of the leader: "The village at the junction of the Falling Star Mountains and the Moon Creek Plain, the burned hut, the bodies of two people wanted by the church, and the handwriting left in the cellar ...... 'Nascentes_morimur'." ”

The Man in the Iron Mask put his greatsword behind him again, looked at the plains to the west, and said softly, "Relief Society......"