Some stories are not exciting, some are not legends, and everyone has a bottomless well deep in their hearts, burying the deepest past.

After parting ways with Connie, Wren and Sasha rode down a trail in the woods, the fir trees towering and the shadows of the trees mottled.

Dow Jones Park, where the story begins, Wren quietly looks at the village with small two-story buildings, a noticeable increase in housing buildings, and a great change in appearance.

No matter how hard the day, as long as there is a small glimmer of hope, people will hold it tightly, and in the bitter wind, it will grow tenaciously like a weed in the wasteland.

Wren calmly watched the people coming and going on the street, 5 years ago, there was a large influx of outsiders from the Wall of Mary, and now this secluded Orion village is also much more lively, and some pedestrians are curiously looking at Sasha and Wren on the horse.

Most people don't actually know them, after all, there aren't many natives here, and Wren recalls the moment he came into this world, he was reborn, and before that, he died in battle......

Sasha took Wren to a beautiful farm, where Mr. Blause was no longer hunting and was raising horses, which he had run well and was now better off than ever.

"Sister, you're back." A little girl with a little baby fat looked at her excitedly.

Sasha went over and hugged her, "Kaya, are you used to living here?" ”

"No problem, I'm fine." The little girl nodded, she was not actually Mr. Booth's daughter, she was adopted.

The last time a giant appeared in the Wall of Rossi, Kaya's mother was killed by a 3-meter giant who slipped into the village, and she was saved by Sasha.

In addition to her, there were several children on the farm, all of whom were homeless, and Mr. Blause adopted them to do simple work on the farm.

There is no oppression of child labor, which is actually an act of kindness, and if no one adopts them, these orphans may starve to death.

Sasha introduces Wren to the children, who had been home for a short time last time and who at least everyone knew her.

"I know, he's the decapitator! Killed 55 giants. A boy stared at him adoringly and said excitedly.

"I've heard his story, and he doesn't seem to be vicious."

The story of Wren was told to the children by the old village chief, and the locals were actually surprised, that the stubborn-looking boy had become a powerful soldier, and many outsiders were amazed, they really did not expect that this was the hometown of the recently famous "decapitator".

Wren had lunch at the farm and had not seen him for three years, and Mr. Blause was very happy, and Mrs. Blause was very welcoming, and she seemed to have made Wren a "son-in-law."

The appearance is dignified, the strength is strong, and the success is famous, at first glance, the conditions are indeed good, of course, since Wren returned here, he has been a little absent-minded.

Mr. Blause noticed this, and after lunch, he gave a key to Wren: "Are you going to go on like this?" Don't think about taking a back seat?

No matter how strong you are, if you keep rushing to the front, you will fall sooner or later, Sasha told me about you, I think it's better for you to stay in the back now. Mr. Blause patiently persuaded him, and he keenly sensed that there was something wrong with Wren's mental state, which could be fatal on the battlefield.

Taking the key to his father's cabin, Wren smiled, very freely: "This may be the meaning of my existence, when I draw my sword and fight, I can feel that I am still alive."

If there is no end to this road, there is nothing wrong with falling asleep. ”

Only when he fights, can he forget that he is a lonely ghost, and when he returns to the original place, he remembers, remembers the past that seems to have been buried and dusted intentionally or unintentionally.

Mr. Blause sighed and watched him go, for since he had carried him back from his coma, he had noticed that Wren had completely changed.

He didn't know what the other party had been through in the forest, Wren had just woken up, and when he looked into his eyes, he even felt fear, and it was not just the eyes that could appear after he was close to death.

Wren walked slowly to a deserted log cabin in a remote corner of the village, the door unovergrown with weeds, which Mr. Blause had taken care of.

Inserting the key into the lock, he pushed open the dusty wooden door with a "creak", and the scene inside the room was no different from when he left, except for the dust on the tables, chairs and benches.

The sun shone into the somewhat damp and rotten wooden house again, and the dust spread in a few rays of light, making irregular movements.

He lived here for more than a month, and then he didn't return for three years, and after picking up a piece of gauze and wiping the camphor wooden bench clean, he threw the gauze on the wooden table and did not wash the pots and pans.

He sat alone on a stool, and for a long time he whispered a poem which he had learned from a down-and-out bard in the city of White Tower:

"To strangers,

I came to a strange place,

Greet everyone with a smile,

Nobody knows me here,

I can laugh to my heart's content,

Crying bitterly,

Because I'm a stranger.

Someone raised his glass,

I smiled and shared with him my joys and sorrows,

It's time for me to go,

I can't stay in one place for too long,

Because I'm a stranger.

Wind and rain,

I smell the dampness of the earth and the fragrance of flowers,

Riding the breeze, accompanied by the bright moon,

Come to the end of the sky,

I hold the sand, kiss the waves, embrace the morning light,

The old time settles in the mud, and I usher in a new life. ”

"You know, nobody likes my poetry, because I'm not a poet, you're the first one you want to learn." On the street corner of Baita City, the bearded and unkempt poet said with a smile.

Karen shrugged, "yes, you don't write well, but I like it because I'm a stranger." ”

The poet's hometown was destroyed by the war, all his friends and relatives died, and he escaped while traveling.

He embarks on a longer journey, having traveled to many countries, and he doesn't stay in one place for long, and when he stays long, it's easy to remember that he has nothing.

His poems were not well written, he was very depressed, because he was not a poet, he was just a homeless wanderer because of the war.

Every time he arrives in a new place, it is like a new life, an unfamiliar environment, and he can get to know everything again.

Inside the wooden house, the sound gradually subsided, and Wren slowly stood up and walked towards the forest, what he was most accustomed to was probably loneliness.

He's not an orphan, he's not a killer, he's come to a strange world, and it's taken him a long time to forget everything in the past, but the feeling of being out of place can't get rid of it.

When people go to a strange country, it takes a lot of time to get used to the customs there, what if it is a strange world? What does it take to forget that you are a "stranger"?

Walking in the shadows of the trees, stepping on the soft grass, squeezing away the bushes and rattans, he followed the route in his mind to the bottom of a hillside.

There was a smooth gray rock at the bottom of the slope, surrounded by some green dogtooth roots and knotweeds, and he walked to the edge of the stone, gently caressing the surface of the stone, feeling the texture coming from the palm of his hand.

Wren sat on the stone, and this was the place where he had come into this world, in the silent forest, where the moss crawled with the wrinkled bark of the old trees, the ground was overgrown with weeds, the broken cobwebs still hung on the branches of the bushes, the damp dew had not dried and had fallen from the shiny stems and leaves of the green grass, and the muskrats had creeping by.

Closing his eyes and lying on the rocks, the breeze blowing through his somewhat messy black hair, yesterday reappeared......