Blood stained his battle shirt red, and the light red of the setting sun was on his resolute and unyielding face, and everyone died on this small hillside, and he was the only one left, maybe he would have immortal feats when he returned, and the general would make him a great official, and he would be given a big medal.

However, looking at the corpses all over the mountains, he felt disgusting, if he wanted so many people's sacrifices in exchange for his own glory, such a feat.

Montaigne lay in an open field overgrown with weeds, a dog's tail in his mouth, and the breeze ruffled his long hair.

In the distance, there were a few crows' calls, chirp-chirp-chirp. Death, what a thing, they went to another paradise, where there is a white dove of peace, God brews good wine and waits for them in a small house, come, man, this is heaven, there is no trouble, no sorrow, only joy and happiness.

The horizon was slowly rising, the light was expanding with the veins, and Montaigne was sleeping in the grass. The corpses on the hillside gradually decomposed, the crows took out the internal organs, the insects and ants slowly wriggled on them, and the rancid smell of the corpses slowly spread in the surrounding air.

Montaigne got up and gently wiped a sharp sword engraved with intricate stripes in the shape of a dragon with a towel, he recalled a dream he had last night, the iron bull entrusted him to bury his soul, in the environment of a white glow surrounded by only white fog, Montaigne had been looking for something, but the fog was so big, the big one drowned him, he was short of breath, and the heads of countless comrades appeared around him, and they kept shouting, help me, save me.

But when he touched it with his hand, it was like touching air, but when he didn't touch it, the images would appear again.

"Lonely Sky City" Chapter 4 Pink Confidant is hitting in the hand, please wait a moment,

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