Silence fell again, and Eshu sat alone in his deformed tent, the cold wind winding boredom over his bruised body, flowing affectionately along the lines of his muscles like waves across a reef. He slowly chewed every word the old drunkard had said since he appeared, especially the few words he had said about his father, which shook the dust in the depths of his memory like a bell. For a long time, his father's impression of Eshu had gradually reduced to a back covered with fire and blood. On the night of the Purge, he pushed young Esher into the arms of the old drunkard, then turned and resolutely rushed towards the Shadow Wing soldiers with torches at the door, and at that moment old Baranduk was as majestic as a true father like never before. But it was just a phantom imprinted in Estheau's mind. In the deepest part of his memory, the real old Baranduke was not a valiant warrior, nor was he even a worthy father. He spent most of his time in Janos drinking heavily, spending the whole day in a drunken state. Fortunately, old Barandoke had a rare quality, or constitution, and although he allowed alcohol to confuse his spirit, he would not let it corrupt his mind and character, so Esher did not suffer from old Baranduk's beatings. It's just that he had to take care of his drunken and groggy father. While the other children were still lying on their father's shoulders, Esher was already silently stuffing a pillow under old Baranduke's neck to make his father lie more comfortably. Perhaps this is the root of the reticent part of his personality. After old Barandok and the old drunkard became inseparable drinking friends, Estheu's burden doubled dramatically. Every morning when he came to the living room, he could see two people lying on the ground, surrounded by the same wine jars. At this moment, the surging memories completely engulfed the back of the great shore, and the cloak of blood and fire faded, revealing a middle-aged man who was slightly clumsy, and never left his body - old Baranduke was actually also an alcoholic.

That's right, wine. Eshur felt the still-smelling sweetness flowing through his stomach, and he slowly tensed his body, his muscles bulging into rock-like lines. The majestic drums of war beat in his chest, and the blood was transported to all parts of his body with the beating of the drums, forming an endless cycle of angry waves. For the first time, Esher intuitively felt the power and the incomparably inflated self-confidence that came with it. Even if it was an ice bear standing in front of him, he had no doubt that he would be able to break its limbs with ease. But this afternoon he was still lying on the ground with his breath dying, and the slightest movement would bring a sharp pain that pierced his heart and cut his bones. Is this the effect of "the most precious wine in Pande"? The old drunkard poured him ten years with this? Why? Instinctively reluctant to believe the old drunkard's argument of paying his debts, he didn't know anything about the relationship between his father and the old drunkard, but what could a down-and-out old Pander nobleman do to make a demigod owe such a precious favor? Is it really just a few glasses of low-quality ale?

A few blunt needles gently pierced his heart, and Eshu pressed the bruises on his body irritably, but the pain did not open up his horizons, and the fog of the past always lay in front of him. The old drunkard was right, he showed an almost defiant rejection of the idea of the child of prophecy, and it was all out of his pride that he did not want to be controlled by others. He doesn't like to be restrained by an unwarranted shackle, and the most terrifying thing is that he doesn't know the existence of the shackles at all, and only in the pointing eyes of others does he know that he is a marionette in someone's hand.

Because he has done something, someone will regard him as a child of prophecy? Several faces appeared, Lucianna and Brochette, who seemed to be convinced that he was the child of prophecy—no, Lucianna was the one who was convinced, and Brochette was too rash to believe her when he saw her take out a few pieces of parchment. What is written on those parchments? Perhaps he should have gone to meet Brosette, the rector of the Royal College of Boimble. But can his study of divinity and divine power really answer his questions? Does God really exist in the Pander continent? If God really exists, why haven't we seen the dragon accompanying Urvet? Why haven't you seen a bobcat incarnated by the mountain god Vijovis?

Footsteps rang out outside the tent, and then flickering firelight lit up on both sides of the tent, casting a tall figure in front of Essho. Estheus suddenly looked up and saw a huge head poking in between the two curtains, and the two eyes met halfway through. The whiskers of his head trembled, and his facial features formed a stunned expression: "Boss, are you awake?" ”

"Salaman?" Essho didn't recognize the head at first, and could only vaguely identify it by sound.

"It's me!" The big head moved up and down, "Chief, I don't know when the torches in your tent went out, didn't they freeze?" ”

"Nope." Eshu shook his head, "I didn't pay attention at all. ”

"How's you feeling, boss?" Salamane scrutinized Essho's face, "His mental condition seems to be much better. ”

"It's almost recovered."

"It seems that this is the case, and I can't see the blue color anymore. By the way, the garrison commander has just sent someone to ask us to send two people to help patrol the city wall. Rest, Boss, I'll go with Kisya. After Salamane finished speaking, he just wanted to pull out his head, but was stopped by Eshyus: "No need, Salaman, you continue to train Anson." I'll go with Ki-Sia. "He's not used to calling Kia's pseudonym.

Salamane was stunned for a moment, then nodded without hesitation: "Okay, they are at the gate of the camp." He withdrew. Essho shook his head violently, banishing the jumbled thoughts into the corners of his mind. He took one last deep breath, filling his lungs with cold air and sinking into every nerve in his body that was highly excited by the alcohol. Essho repeatedly confirmed that the side effects of the hangover had been completely suppressed by himself before he stepped out of the tent.

The night still dominates Boimbul, and the fires that stretch through the barracks are the lingering rebels. Estheu grabbed a torch and walked to the gate of the camp, where the heralds of Kia and Ranmarok were already standing. Seeing that it was Eshyus, the same stunned face appeared on Kia's face.

"I'm almost recovered." Estheu stood in front of the two and said, "Come on patrol." ”

"Then keep up and don't fall behind." The herald didn't bother to care about the identity of the person who came, and Sir said that if two people were to patrol the city wall with him, then as long as the numbers matched, he couldn't worry about who the person was. The herald turned and walked towards the wall. Kia glanced at Eshu with an inquiring look, and Eshu shook his head, indicating that he didn't want to explain.

Kia shrugged helplessly and followed behind Eshu. "By the way, my sister found me last night." He spoke suddenly, in a low voice.

"Huh?"

"She was going to bring me back to Saarion after a while, but she didn't tell me exactly when. I think this is the end of my adventurer career. I also felt like I had gone a little too far, being a Sarionite and working as a mercenary in Livingston. By the way, why don't you take the time to negotiate with my sister? He half-jokingly said, "You two fight and decide where I belong." ”

"Hmm."

"Are you serious?" Kia coughed in embarrassment.

"Do you want to go back to Sarion?" Esthew asked rhetorically.

“…… Don't want to. Kia was silent for a long time, and replied in a low voice, "It's still a little unwilling, especially the conversation between us about the nature of Pande, which has not yet come to a conclusion." ”

"That'll do." Esher said.

Without saying a word, the two of them followed the herald up the city wall as the dark clouds fell through the dark clouds around Poimburu, and the city seemed to wake up from a nightmare and start a new day. There were already several rows of people standing on the walls, and Sir Rammalock stood in front of the line with his arms crossed. The herald trotted all the way to him, his thumb running powerfully across his eyebrows: "Sir, someone has brought it." ”

When Ranmarok saw Esher, he raised his eyebrows in surprise, and then pointed impatiently: "You two, enter the ranks!" The two of them stood obediently at the end of the line, and Eshu was standing at the edge of the city wall, and the towering curves of the Misty Mountains in the distance came into his eyes, and he heard himself gasp helplessly—the curves of his dreams, which connected the east and west ends of the sky, and then climbed thirty degrees northeast of Poinbru, and disappeared into the thick dark clouds—it was the main peak of the Misty Mountains, Vijovis, and the name of the patron saint of the Misty Mountains.

"Boys, it's dawn! Give Lao Tzu a twelve-point spirit! Ranmarok's loud voice pulled Eshur back to reality, "The sooner you start patrolling, the sooner you can end it, and the sooner you can have breakfast!" Let's start assigning tasks, and the team leader who calls the name will be consciously clicked! He looked at the roster, his mouth bursting out of his mouth, and then a sergeant stepped forward, thumbs his brow, and led his men to the designated patrol area. The number of people around Esher and Kia dwindled until at last only the two of them were left standing in front of Ranmaro.

"You two," Ranmarok closed the roster, looking them up and down, "follow me around the North Urn City." ”