What does hell really look like, or at what point do people feel like they're in hell? This is not a difficult question to answer, and the religious or more emotional poets and writers who have the concept of hell can tell you the answer in their own way. But if you think about it from another angle, the oft-said difference between hell and purgatory may make it easier for us to understand what it looks like. That is the possibility of salvation, purgatory, you can be redeemed, hell is not. In hell, there is only eternal and endless suffering, or that eternity alone is already a kind of suffering. When long hours and oppressive and unpleasant emotions are combined, torture is born.

Torment, a feeling that had never been felt before in Lothar's previous battles. That's not to say that the cannibals in the workshop who swooped down from the shadows of the rooftop ropeway were more difficult to deal with than the wolfwalkers, demons, or ratmen that the Count had ever seen, and it was not the enemy that changed, but the warrior's heart. Lothar's heart was once full of scars, and everything he had experienced since the shadow of his parents' murder as a child had made the wound that had been engraved on his heart grow bigger and bigger, and the rifts became more and more rifted.

In order to cope with this breaking tendency, the Count learned to be indifferent, he learned to be arrogant, he learned to ignore, he learned to obey blindly, he learned to make a protective shield out of other dirty, sticky, damp things that stuck like mud on the outside of his heart, to prevent his heart from breaking into a pulp. His glory, ideals, beliefs, and help from others are like heat, baking these muddy mud into beautiful ceramics, firmly, firmly protecting the heart inside.

This protection is supposed to last forever, and as the heat increases, so does the hardness of the ceramic, and the dirty impurities are expelled, leaving behind a white, smooth outer wall. It was supposed to be this way, until he reused the heart, and he used it to fall in love with someone, and when the heart beats, the coating that wraps around it shatters. The fragile organs inside, the scarred heart, were revealed. He used to be able to force himself to wield a weapon to take the lives of others with responsibility and faith, but now, he can't do it.

For the first time in years, Lothar hesitated in the face of an oncoming opponent, who was not fast enough for the Count to dodge sideways, then knock him down and deliver the fatal blow with his battle axe. But then, the blood that flowed from the body of the slain thing would inevitably splatter on his body, and on his hands, the pungent smell of blood would linger on his body, longer than the longest-lasting perfume, and it would be smelled by his lover, and perhaps, by his children. That's not what he wanted.

Hesitation is a taboo for warriors on the battlefield where changes are possible at a moment's notice. Fortunately, Lothar's fighting instinct saved him this time, and the Count retreated slightly, and instead of using the blade of the axe, he slammed the counterweight at the bottom of the axe handle into the head of the man who had fallen from above. The attacker could not change his movements in the air, and even if there were, bloodthirsty desires did not allow him to retreat. "Click!" After a tooth-aching collision, the bloodied assailant's face was smashed over, and after a few turns on the ground, his head hit the edge of the forge table, and he didn't move.

Others don't necessarily have the reflexes and skills of Lothar. There were a total of five enemies rushing from above and behind the forging table, except for the one that was smashed by the earl, the first mate used the scimitar in his hand to smoothly conduct an oral examination of the enemy who attacked him, of course, the depth of this examination may have been closer to the gastroscope. Without hesitation, the lynx hid behind the other three sailors, who were not good at fighting, and whose dagger was more of a brazen prop than a weapon. The three sailors were not as lucky as the intelligence traffickers, and although they all tried to wield their weapons, due to the difference in light between the inside and outside of the house, and the number and angle of the enemies, one of them had three fingers of the knife bitten off, one had been bitten straight through the throat, and the other was even more unlucky, and was held away from his companion by two enemies holding one leg on one side.

"Help!" the sailor who had been dragged away reached out and grabbed Lothar's ankle and let out a hoarse cry for help. Lothar didn't hesitate too much, he brandished his battle axe, and slashed at the enemy who was dragging the sailor's right leg, but unexpectedly, the opponent actually let go of his hands first, and let the Fool's Justice cut the air! Not only that, the enemy who had dodged Lothar's attack turned around and picked up something from the casting table as if he suddenly remembered something, it was an iron sword that had not yet been fully built. Seeing this, Lothar instinctively withdrew his battle axe and prepared to defend it, but the enemy with the iron sword did not launch a counterattack, he screamed, and with his sword in both hands, he cut off the poor sailor's left leg from the knee at once!

"Ahh At the same time, the first mate gave up retracting his cutlass from his opponent's mouth, and instead used both hands to pull away the enemy who was lying on the neck of another sailor, and punched the thing in the stomach!

The first mate's vision was blocked, and seeing that the enemy who had been punched by him had recovered, and was about to tear open the throat of the first mate and create a second victim, but the figure of the lynx quietly came to his back, and raised the dagger with a trembling hand, and stabbed deeply into the human heart from behind! After a few seconds, the screams and frantic writhing subsided, and the thing that had killed one of the sailors was also killed, and fell face down on the workshop floor.

"Ahh Ahh "Lynx, take the wounded away. Lothar gritted her teeth, feeling guilty and irritated at the consequences of her hesitation. Without saying anything, the lynx rushed to Lothar's side, dragged the sailor's arm with a broken right leg, and dragged him away from the workshop. The first mate finally cleaned up his face at this time, and he looked at his companion who had been bitten in the throat with palpitations, and picked up his scimitar. "What the hell are these?"

"Ghouls, or ghouls, they're not like what I've seen. Lothar pointed with his chin at the enemy he had beaten to the edge of the forge table, which still had the appearance of a human being, except that the lips of its mouth were gone, and its exposed teeth and gums had a clear tendency to protrude outward, and it seemed to be changing in some way.

"You've dealt with this thing before?" the first mate walked over to Lothar's side and helped him monitor the blind spot in his field of vision, which was the only two remaining forces when the Lynx was transporting the wounded away.

"Dealt with, there are many more than these. But then the terrain was in our favor. Lothar's eyes searched quickly in the shadows, and he remembered the day in the royal capital where he and the networms had relied on the bridge to fight against a large number of ghouls. At that time, the Count did not hesitate in the face of those monsters. At that time, there was no concern on his shoulders, only responsibilities and obligations.

At this time, the bobcat, who had just dragged the wounded out of the room, ran back, "No, the broken leg bleed too much, and the bleeding must be stopped immediately." ”

"We don't have the tools to stop the bleeding. The first mate said with a frown.

But the Earl looked at the faint red light from the depths of the workshop and made a different opinion, "No, we do. ”