With his feet filled with lead and his chest gasping like a bellows, Bud ran back to Gretel's cabin, leaving only a trail of blood on the ground.

Someone in the neighborhood opened the door and ran out to put out the fire, which is a big deal, if it is not done well, the house here will also be burned.

The sound of Gretel's beating was much louder than that, the sound of struggle, the sound of insults, begging for mercy, and the sound of beating continued for a long time, but it was so quiet until the sound of fire fighting in the distance came.

Bud rushed into the room, and there was no one in the room, except for Gretel, curled up in a corner covered in blood, gasping faintly.

"Sorry Gretel! I'm late, I'm a coward. ”

Looking at Gretel's miserable appearance, Bard burst into tears.

Sitting on the dusty floor with dried blood, Bard carefully leaned Gretel against the corner.

At this time, Gretel's eyes were swollen and bruised, and he couldn't open them, he seemed to want to say something, but he didn't have any strength, and he couldn't even lift his arms.

Bard held his hand and called out his name, trying to cheer him up and take him to a nearby temple, but Gretel couldn't say a word.

Bard then tried to pick up Gretel, but felt that Gretel had multiple fractures on his body and had a painful expression on his face, so he had to let it go.

Tears flowed silently, and warm tears dripped onto Gretel's wrists, splashing a little bit of water.

As if sensing something, Gretel's finger ran over Bud's palm, and Bud looked at the finger carefully.

The weak fingers swiped very slowly, as if it was very difficult, and one stroke at a time, conveyed the last words.

'No... Want... Cry... Weep. '

After paddling, Gretel's wish was fulfilled, and he slowly stopped breathing, and his body became colder, colder and colder, and there was no longer the temperature of life.

On the other side of Hopland, the festive atmosphere is still basking in the festive atmosphere, even at night, when many stalls are still closed, and the smell of barbecue, orange lights, bustling noise, and tourists fill the streets and alleys of the city center.

"Lacey, don't rush home yet, there will be a show later." Lan Li'er pulled Lacey to stop in front of a stall selling shells, and next to a black-haired and brown-skinned girl stood next to her.

"Well, we'll have fireworks later."

"Lingxin, don't say it, there's no sense of expectation at all." Lan Li'er complained quietly.

As if sensing something, Loren Hill got up and looked at the sky in the distance.

"What's wrong, Lacey?"

"I still have something to do, I'm afraid I can't watch the fireworks with you."

With her blue eyes hidden in the shadow of her hood, Lorain Hill whispered goodbye to the two girls beside her before turning to leave.

Suzune looked thoughtfully in the direction Lorain Hill had left, when a friend's inquiry sounded next to her.

"What's wrong with Suzune?"

"Nothing, anyway, how did you know this Miss Lacey?"

"It was introduced by Sister Tirela, who was ...... at the time She's ....."

"That's good, that's good, because she's so good, maybe you won't be able to beat her."

"No, Lingyin, I'm sequence 5, and little Lacey is only sequence 3 at most." Lan Li'er looked incredulous.

"You'll find out later."

Bang –

Bang –

With a few soft sounds in the distance, colorful ceremonial flowers rose in the night sky, like stars rising from the earth, blooming colorful colors in the sky.

The colorful stars bloom into huge streamer flowers, scattered wisps of light, and like golden rain falling from the sky, the empty night sky suddenly becomes lively.

Residents and tourists in the city stopped to watch at this time, and bursts of laughter, blessings, and prayers sounded in the crowd.

More flowers then rose from the ground, and the spectacular scenery unfolded in the night sky of Hopland like a picture scroll.

Brilliant fireworks continue to rise and bloom, illuminating the dark alleys.

A teenager walks on a deserted street with his friend's cold body in his arms, his hands are heavy and sore, and the bustle in the distance is so far away, as if in two worlds.

The tears on his face slowly dried in the night wind, and he walked slowly, through the deep alleys, trying to bury his friend on the hillside by the sea.

A tiny canal runs through the edge of the city, and Bard staggers onto a small bridge.

Fireworks rose in the distance, reflecting the bridge deck, sprinkling waves on the tranquil water surface of the river, and the figure of the young man was faintly in the cold firelight, looking very lonely.

There was a slight sound of footsteps ahead, and a slender figure appeared on the opposite side of the bridge, gray boots and black hooded robes, and long pale blonde hair poking out from between the hats, gilded with a faint silver layer by the moonlight.

Then the footsteps stopped.

Lorain Hill looked at the familiar young man in front of him, his eyes were sad, his hands were holding a body that had lost its temperature, and in the distance behind him, there was black smoke and fire, and from time to time he could hear people's shouts.

"Still, are you late?"

Looking at this cowardly teenager before, she sighed softly, and there were already a lot of guesses in her heart.

Bud looked at the girl who had helped him on the bridge, and his steps froze, and his hands finally could not bear the weight, and he fell to his knees, crying bitterly, but his eyes blinked desperately, not a single tear flowed.

Lorain Hill looked at the boy silently, and after a long while, the choked sobs slowly stopped.

"Were you sent by the gods to save me?" Bud raised his head and looked at the black-robed girl in front of him.

"But why not save my friend?"

"Why, why is the hero of the story always the last to appear?"

"Aren't you a hero? Why can't we save everyone!"

He seems to be questioning Loren Hill, but he seems to be venting his anger at his own cowardice and incompetence.

While the teenager may not really be asking himself, Loren Hill gave an answer.

"I'm sorry, I'm not a hero and I can't save everyone."

"Or rather, it's sad to expect heroes to save everything."

In various legends, everyone is always happy to hear that a certain brave or heroic man stands up to defeat the evil villain and save everything. They pin their hopes and aspirations on others, while they are content with the status quo and do not dare to change.

Loren Hill stood at the head of the bridge, quietly listening to the teenager's narration about the short life of his good friend Gretel.

"Why wait all the time instead of standing up for yourself?"

Looking at the cowardly teenager, Lorain Hill spoke again, just like the alley outside the restaurant that day.

"Why do people always pin their hopes on others, preferring to pray to the gods of nothingness, hiding in the corner and feeling sorry for themselves, waiting for the noble people they meet by chance, rather than taking a step themselves."

"When will you become your own hero?"

Under the cold moonlight, the girl took off the hood on her head, her silver hair fluttered in the air, and her bright red and transparent eyes looked directly at the shocked teenager.