"Hey, Yamato, when are we going to the Governor's Mansion that is interesting?" The girl lying on the soft wool blanket asked absentmindedly, her big black eyes looking intently at the screen in front of her, her flexible and slender fingers constantly beating on the handle, controlling the characters in the game all the way through the level.

"It's good that the king decides this kind of thing, and you don't need to ask us." Yamato, who was standing aside, bowed his head respectfully, "When the king plans to go, we will prepare them whenever he wants." ”

"Are you ready to meet me?" The girl asked in a whisper, pouting as she looked at the screen in front of her that had turned gray again, with deep frustration and helplessness in her eyes. "Actually, I don't like the way they treat me with respect." The girl shook her head and got up, seemingly disagreeing with the other party's suggestion.

"So what does the king mean?" Yamato asked softly as he bent down, waiting for Wang's opinion.

"I think we should go straight to the town guard mansion where the admiral is interesting, right? Let's see how those shipwives will react to my coming. The girl snickered, her tone full of banter, as if the idea was a prank she loved very much, and that could give birth to a little different spark in her boring life.

"If the king wishes to do so, we have no opinion." Yamato nodded in agreement and didn't say anything to the contrary. She knew that once the king said it, it was a decision that had become a fact, and no one could or had the right to change it, and the only thing they could do was to obey.

The supremacy of royal power is a precept that Yamato has observed since his birth.

"Then it was decided," the girl jumped on the wool blanket, her long straight hair fluttering in the air, and countless slender green silks with a faint fragrance of flowers dancing in the room. "I heard that in a few days it will be the biggest festival of mankind, why don't we go to his town guard mansion on that day?" The girl's words seemed to ask for the other person's opinion, but the tone was unmistakable, as if what she said was an established fact, and no one could doubt her majesty.

"If you decide, we will make all the preparations." Yamato nodded in a deep voice.

"By the way, before you collected everything related to that admiral, I suddenly became interested in him." The girl lay on her back on the carpet, her bare feet swaying, her skin as white as jade in the light as silky as milk, she reached out and stroked her bare calves from under the long black lace dress, and chuckled and said, "It must be all the news about him, for he is a very interesting thing in my eyes, and it is enough to make me happy." At last she opened her mouth with a sinister smile, her flaming tongue dancing in her plain white teeth, as if a dancing living snake was constantly spitting out letters, revealing the danger of palpitations.

"Yes, I will definitely collect all the information of the other party." Yamato nodded, his twinkling purple eyes cold as if he were looking at the dead.

Because none of the people who were crowned by the king survived, including the admiral who led his ship to defeat the deep-sea delusion fleet, even if he was an unrivaled genius, he couldn't avoid the result of his fall in the end.

Hope that the poor admiral will hold out a little longer in the king's hands, Yamato sneered softly, laughing with pity and sympathy, but without the slightest pity.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————

Siberia

Looking at the Macallen lying peacefully in the body bag, Rystan did not speak, but remained silent, his muscular body trembling in the light of the small room, as if playing an inaudible mourning for this old friend who had died.

He had foreseen at the beginning that this would happen in the end, no matter how strong everyone was, they could not escape the arms of death, even the Macallen, who wanted to continue in this endless darkness, no one could avoid death, not even the whole world.

He sighed in a daze, reached for the tin box in his pocket, shook the remaining cigar out of it with trembling hands, and silently lit a match, the thick smoke running down his throat and into his lungs, making him cough violently.

Ristan is a good man who does not drink or smoke, but he does not find his love like ordinary people, but follows in the footsteps of his friends, and falls step by step towards the bottomless abyss.

In fact, he didn't know why he had to accompany this madman for so many years, he knew that he couldn't get any results in the end, and finally embarked on the road of no return without hesitation. And after so many years of persistence, it finally came to naught at this moment, and finally drew a long-existing rest.

He took a deep breath, the smoke irritating his nostrils, causing him to bend over and cough violently, crystal tears spilling from his eyes, dripping onto the chilly floor, moistening the light frost that had condensed, slowly melting the ice. He didn't know why he was so sad, as if he had suddenly lost a piece of his heart, and he wanted to look up to the sky and laugh.

He still clearly remembers how high-spirited Mercarron was in the past, and how he graduated from the academy with excellent grades and went to the front, but such a genius-like existence could only die on the battlefield in the end, watching his shipwrecks fall into the deep sea one by one, and he couldn't do anything at all.

It was a day that made me despair, and I finally realized that it was impossible for humans to defeat such a powerful monster as the deep sea, and that I was just trying to have no end. All the shipwives left me that day, thinking that with my excellent command skills, I would be able to bring them back alive to everyone's cheers.

However, all this is just my own illusory dream.

Everyone wants to be an admirable hero, and I'm no exception. But the price of becoming a hero is too expensive, so what I can do with the darkness is to become a villain, a complete villain, and use my own evil to proclaim the end of the world.

Heroic dreams should never exist in the first place!

The last few words were written by Mecaren with all his might, each stroke with helplessness and anger, so force that it cut through the paper, and the splashed ink soaked the entire diary. This notebook was the only thing that Mercaren left for Ristan when he left, and he said that if he didn't come back this time, the diary should be regarded as a relic he left for himself, as a memento.

But in the end he came back, but in this way. Ristan looked at Macallen with his eyes closed with a shudder, and his wanton laughter was filled with endless bitterness, like a rainstorm that would never stop, drowning the whole world.