"It seems to be running. Lothar squinted, trying to discern the movement of a blurry figure in the distance. The fact that the Aleié they saw now was both similar and unsimilar to what Batu had unintentionally bumped into before, which was also consistent with the records of Aleié in the steppe, which had no exact form, just as it had no definite purpose. Only now, the aimless calamity began to run.

"Anger, fear and other things attracted it, and although I didn't know exactly the state of Alais's existence, I could tell it liked these emotions. Cheese glanced back in the direction of the tribe, where the firelight was like a flaming snake, entangled with each other, desperately strangling each other. That's exactly what is happening in the tribe, and the chaos begins, and no one can stop it.

"Didn't you say that thing was a natural disaster? Natural disasters don't change their pace because of human actions. Kairas tilted his head, remembering very well what Cheese had said about Alais as a calamity. Moreover, as a goblin, he was inherently insulated from most of the calamities in the human mouth, and only needed a suitable natural environment, and the goblins could return to their own kingdom at any time. Even some gifted goblins, like the Yew people, will not be killed by something other than certain substances, or can simply exist in the gap between space and time, and can be regarded as nothing. This has also given some elves a penchant for observing disasters, believing that the majesty of nature is something more memorable than the human landscape. Of course, cat goblins are not such beings.

"Natural disasters really don't. However, the damage caused by natural disasters can be exacerbated or even multiplied by man-made disasters. The aftermath of a famine is often as devastating as the famine itself. People themselves are always increasing the power of natural disasters in this way. Cheese said this with a thoughtful look on his face. If the rat-man plague was a natural disaster, then the war to exterminate the rat-people and the civil war that might start for the kingdom after the rat-man rebellion were man-made. At the end of the day, these two things are inherently connected.

The mage's explanation didn't convince the cat elves, and Kairaz didn't think Aleiel was the kind of completely bodyless scourge that was there, roughly imitating the form of a human, clumsily running towards it. But it's not hard to understand, if lightning strikes words in the air or volcanic smoke condenses into human shapes in the air, no one thinks they're unconscious.

The sound of horses' hooves came from the direction of the bazaar, and it was Atta and Batu who had finally arrived on another horse. They also had the same problem as Cheese, the horses were reluctant to go near where Aleire was, even Harold IV, who had been the leader of the wild horse herd, and Batu, who was just an ordinary mare. It went straight to the edge of the bazaar, and its front legs went limp, and its whole body fell diagonally forward. Fortunately, the Count of Montenegro was quick-eyed, turned around and ran two steps quickly, and took the two people who were thrown out of the horse's back into his arms one by one, and landed firmly on the ground.

"Whew, whew. "The poor horse, who fell to the ground, broke his leg bone under the inertia brought by the impact. Its dark eyes were full of pain and unease, its exhaled breath smelled of blood, and the corners of its mouth were spitting with blood. There is nothing to argue about this horse, not only its value as a mount, but even if it is carefully cared for, its front legs will not return to their original state, and without the ability to run, the horse will lose the possibility of independent survival. Furthermore, even though he didn't use magic to try to communicate with him, Cheese could tell that it was most likely scared silly.

Batuu rushed to his mount as soon as he settled down, the first horse in his life and the first wild horse he had tamed himself, and although it was not a horse like Harold IV, it still had a family connection to the falconer. Now, no matter how much his hands caressed his mane, the connection between the two had been severed, and in his arms was only a piece of flesh still breathing. Tears and sobs spilled irrepressibly from the holes on his face, if only he had slowed down earlier, if only he hadn't been in such a hurry...

Lothar was a knight, and he knew the connection between rider and mount, and to be sure, if it was Harold IV who was kneeling here at this time, he would not have fared much better than Batu. And the only thing a knight who knows the pain of losing a horse can do at this time is to untie the tomahawk from his waist and put it beside the hunter, and whisper to him, "Use this to free it." The horse's neck is too thick, and it takes time for the scimitar to die even if it stabs the vital point, which is too painful. It is your mount, and you have the right and duty to take care of it and give it its last ride. ”

"Shouldn't I have tamed it in the first place, let it run freely on the steppes, and that wouldn't happen!" asked Batu, instead of picking up the Fool's justice, facing his mount. And in this question, in fact, it is not difficult for everyone present to see that he has already answered his own question. Life is not a tool, nor should it be treated as a tool.

"You've done these things. The shaman once told me that the spirit of a horse has two sides, and once it is changed, it will not change back. The moment you tame it, it's your mount, your companion, your loved one, your best friend. This is what has happened, something that cannot be changed. There's nothing wrong with feeling guilty about what has happened. But if you want to rely on this kind of self-blame to evade responsibility, then you are very wrong! We will always make a choice, and if we choose, there will be right and wrong, and wrong is not terrible, but what is terrible is that we do not have the courage to bear mistakes. Dare to do it, do you want me to teach you this sentence?

Lothar's words were deafening. In fact, the Count didn't know that this kind of accident could not be brought out immediately, and Batu needed time. But they don't have time now, and letting him meet the impending danger in such a low state is tantamount to sending him to death. So the Count had to do this, and he had to get Batu to transform that trance of the unexpected into a more real, positive emotion.

In the end, the Count of Montenegro was born in the army, and what he had experienced made her words have a momentum intentionally or unintentionally, and Batu in a trance was shocked by this Batu, and his sluggish mind really retracted. He shuddered, his fingers creeping up to the handle of the tomahawk, and then slowly stood up with the tomahawk. He looked at his mount from above, looked into its eyes, and slowly walked to the back of the horse's neck. The hand, slowly raised, the weight of the tomahawk all pressed on him. The blade of the axe, slicing through the air in the wind, let out a low cry, as if sighing.

"Forgive me. May the Spirit of the Horse call you to its side. ”