BGM: Eternal Poem, Snow Dance

Montpass looked at the kneeling scumbag, and an inexplicable look flashed in his eyes.

In Beiyu mythology, there are stories based on him.

The old man sighed imperceptibly.

A haughty God will never admit his mistakes, nor will he hide his failures.

Those who died no longer have the name of God, and naturally cannot be counted as one kind, just as humans do not regard the ashes in the crematorium as their own kindred.

Perhaps?

But it will be empty self-comfort, and the person who really thinks about it is long gone, and it will become an eternal sound.

God does not sympathize with the weak, there is never a weak person in Paradise, and such individuals have long been divided among the various gods—or they have no value at all.

The old king lost his kingdom.

He then lost both legs and hands.

The king who offered his head to Asso lost everything.

He didn't look at the gods who knelt in front of him and kept kowtowing.

Kowtow silently, kowtow with all your heart!

[Guilt]!

Who doesn't feel guilty?

After doing so many evil deeds, the king filled Asso with guilt, so that his great hand could no longer easily pull off a man's arm, so that the hollow body would no longer want to swallow the human body, and in the guilt he felt the pain of the abuser.

Whenever it tried to crush something, even an ant, it felt fatal guilt, and the pain would tear its body apart, and the vicious worm would tear open the non-existent heart.

The king walked to the fiery sky in the middle of the royal city.

The king, who should have lost his hands, legs, and head, once again walked on the earth on his own strength, and strong blood stirred in his chest.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The blood that flowed all over the ground suddenly rolled upside down, forming a huge blanket, and traced backwards along the path that the old king had crawled all the way to.

The huge red carpet grabbed the nose of the whoa-wah-wah.

"Wang, you don't keep your word!"

"No, you're wrong. ”

The king's voice came from afar.

"You're not human, credit is to talk to people, it's not that you don't look like a human thing. ”

"Man can knock off his body to make cups of things that are not human, and he can water his crops with his blood, and decorate himself with feathers. ”

"If you die, if you die, we will have cups, crops, and feathers. ”

[Humanitarian]!

The huge red bound and wrapped the stubborn stone of Nose Tora, and it pulled up with all its might, carrying dozens of hills in the middle of the countryside to the sky, and threw it from a height of 99,999 meters into the sea at a depth of 99,999 meters.

The king told it that it was not the result of man, that he could no longer run out of the whirlpool of the deep sea, and that when it gave it pain to man, it would feel great pain, ten times greater than it could be felt.

When it gives pain to something that is not human, he will feel more and more the pain of not being human.

Suffering.

Who doesn't suffer?

There is nowhere to speak of Montpass's pain.

He sighed as he passed over the hopeless people, and the sound of kowtow was like a sledgehammer striking his heart, knocking him out of breath.

Wherever he went, time began to slow down again.

The torrent of yellow-skinned people rushed towards him.

The absurd sorrow that belongs to mankind alone, bordering on joy, the great suffering itself began to come upon him, and he walked on the untouchable level of life, at the bottom of the pot of death, and there was no way out.

The wisdom of the sages shines on all living beings.

From this point of view, he is great, because the crown knows only domination, and the gods only know servitude, and who would give everything so selflessly as a sage?

His steps traveled through time, his cloudy eyes piercing through the chaos.

Old legs cross the new world.

A soft sigh sang an ancient ballad.

"Where is the pure girl who sheds crystal tears?"

"Where do you come to the sky on a summer night and look up at the stars?"

"Where is the wisdom of the sages who teach us happiness?"

"Where did the essence of the earth come from to give us food?"

As he walked forward, he began to draw his life from the scabbard.

Life that is constantly being vented is like raindrops, which nourish all things with rain and dew.

Nothing can bring mercy and help, people are self-sufficient, people are cold-blooded, and as for things that are not human, they cannot be trusted.

The whole lonely old man lived for an endless period of time, and he had to end up in such a way that he had to pursue eternity.

No one can save you.

You can only save yourselves.

But I... Even if it's like this, I'll be able to give you a little bit of help. It doesn't hurt to eat me.

Or.

I was born in this world to be eaten.

Crops are starting to grow again.

The disease disappears.

The feeling of hunger no longer fills the whole body in a trance.

Once again, city after city has a new hope.

It may not last, or it may be as fleeting as the prosperity of the Abyss of Montpass.

But who doesn't want hope, who doesn't want to turn their backs on the way of death?

The old Montpass walked on the most self-conscious road, and such a narrow road was only honored by him, which was the greatest cruelty to himself, and it was his own loneliness.

Whenever he walked through the places where human beings lived, he gave his precious and small remaining life to people.

Even a lowly beggar shares in the last life of the old dying man, and then swallows this precious gift in ignorance.

Montpass pulled away his life and exposed his death.

Yes.

He was long gone.

Precious weapons were abandoned and damaged in the long scrolls of history.

But why can't you draw a knife without a knife?

He was drawing his sword from the moment he left the abyss of Montpass.

The sage's gaze travels through time, to the source of all suffering—the dark cloud that hangs over the entire tricolor world, the soil on which all things live.

How ridiculous?

How sad is it?

【The Great Avalanche】

The world is like a snake.

He was connected from head to tail, and the snake body was hidden in the mist, so that people could only see the sad reincarnation of a star.

No one will be able to do so.

God can't do it.

The world will not be able to do so.

Twist.

Sorrowful.

Detachment is inadequate.

Something like that...

"Alas. . . ”

Montpass let out a deep sigh.

The old king walked towards the ruined sunset on the horizon, and after his brisk steps, followed by the crowds.

They want to seize him, tear him apart, deny his contributions, deny the peace he brought, and finally kick him like a dustbin of history.

At last, the king went to the source of the riot, to the place where he had come.

The corners of his mouth were smiling, but they were as sad as crying.