But that was enough, and I survived. Pen%Fun%Pavilion www.biquge.info As long as I survive, everything can be done. He no longer trusts the generals, and in his opinion, there are too many wrecks in the empire today. He started a business, opening factories in towns and cities, and he had big goals to accomplish. He had met different people in these places, from fugitive Kujits, to horse thieves on street corners, to down-and-out aristocrats, to runaway girls, and he could always see what was so good about them and touch their hearts. He was willing to confess his sins in his heart, so that people believed in him. His warband grew like this, until Haraus sent an invitation. He knew that his chance had come, that he was going to restore his father's territory and that he was going to bury Tita back to his homeland. However, Haraus's violent behavior left him with no hope, and his mindless declaration of war exhausted himself. He led a tired army to victory, but he was never able to get back the castle and city. He felt distressed inwardly until he met Aisona and learned the truth of everything. He understands that Aisona is the same person as himself, just as Aisona understands how similar he is to himself, they have both suffered the loss of their loved ones, they both want to turn everything back, they do not trust others and surrender themselves to fate, they are all people who have given up their lives. He didn't care about the damnation of breaking his oath, for there was only one true oath for him, and that man was dead. He and Asona swept through the kingdom of Swadia like flames, followed by Rhodok, Kujit, and finally pointed his sword at Vicchia. After the fall of the Riwacha, he and Arenn looked at the night sky, feeling that their mission was over, and that their lives should be over, that they had been stained with too much blood, which could not be redeemed in any way.

What Tita hated most was war, and he often told himself.

What makes him even more helpless is that his own existence is also an obstacle for Aisona, how can there be a person like her by her side? He feels that he should die now, but he feels that this death is meaningless. The scarf was beside him, and every time he looked at it, he remembered the soft but firm voice: Live.

He did not commit suicide after all, but ran away to Salander alone, and lived like a farmer, looking at the fire and reminiscing about the past, and wanted to do this until he died. When the news of Esona's dispatch came, he felt bored, he didn't know what he had to do, but he didn't want to go to war again. I'm not Reonshro anymore, I'm Gore. He sometimes says this to himself. But if this is the case with Tita, what has become of Tita to herself? When Ferjans and Baska arrived, he saw these young men as if they were a world away. He was originally in seclusion, and when he saw their growing affection with the Salander maidens, he would always recall Tita at that time. yes, Tita hasn't been in love yet. As he muttered to himself, it was as if Tita was right in front of him and smiled sheepishly at him. His vows may not have come to an end yet, and he suddenly thought that there was still a myriad of happiness that was slowly growing.

When the news of Asona's return to the army came, he finally felt that he knew his ultimate mission and why he didn't kill himself in the first place. He wrapped up the scarf in his hand and left Sekuten, like a man who had seen his own life, galloping on the horse and following the starlight on the silent vast land, everything was like the wind around him, and only the life he was still breathing ran here, and he remembered all the happiness he had obtained on that calm and peaceful afternoon decades ago, and placed his future life on it.

Near Pahimi, he saw the army of black press. He felt that he was now full of energy and unstoppable, and he shouted:

"I'm Leon Xiluo, begging to see Her Majesty!"

After shouting these words loudly, the black army suddenly stopped, the air was dry and solemn, and the immobile crowd seemed to be a kind of tribute. Reon felt like he was finally back in reality, and the army that once belonged to him was now reappearing. Then, at the command of the herald, the army parted on both sides and made a road.

Leonshro rode his horse slowly and calmly, trying to keep his eyes on each soldier. He believed that happiness was in each of them. He finally made it to the tent, where Asona sat on a wooden chair in the center with a smile and Fatis stood by with a surprised face on his face.

You don't really want to go to war with Salander. Leon nodded to Fatis first, and then his tone was direct and resolute.

"Sure enough, it's Lei Onxiluo. Are you in such a hurry to talk about the war in the first place?" said Asona, still smiling.

"Your Majesty, please think again. Our goals are the same. Leon looked straight into Asona's eyes.

"What goal?"

"We've all died once. "We don't live for ourselves. ”

"Nor do I live for the people of Sarande. "Asona was not afraid of Leon's fiery gaze, which condensed the last of her life.

"Live for people. Leon's tone became heavier.

Aisona didn't speak, her eyes softened, and she knew that what she wanted in her heart was the same as that of Reon.

"I see. Aisona smiled, "Do you understand?"

Leon laughed too.

"Please hang this scarf in front of my grave, Your Majesty. ”

Outside the tent, the sky stretched as far as the sea of the Paraven Fjord.

It was a quiet summer dawn, the sun was slowly rising from the hills to the east, and the morning glow was only soaking the corner of the sky, while the rest of the place was still gray. The villagers of Laiwulun village have not yet woken up, and they are accustomed to sleeping like this on weekend mornings in peacetime. The village is built on the mountain, by the stream, out of the village and across the stream, you can see the mountains stretching, the forest is verdant. The stream is like a clean white stream, separating the village from the mountains. There is only one valley road between the mountains, leading to Aaron, and the village depends on this valley road for supplies. The large slopes of the mountain are used to grow cabbage and olives, and the grape trellises are used for Aaron's best wines. According to the ancient custom of Rhodoc, every household placed oil and wood at the door to show their wealth. Only one family had a simple water tank at the door where a traveling horse could drink quietly, and the villagers also made fun of the family for raising horses in the mountains. But at this dawn, a chubby middle-aged woman finally took the horse, handed it to the young man beside her, and then held his hand tightly, and said unhurriedly, "Son, have you made up your mind?" the young man looked at his mother and nodded. This young man was about 16 years old, with a delicate face and a tall and straight figure, but he looked a little thinner, but there was a fortitude in his eyes that was different from that of his peers. He was dressed in a short-sleeved robe with a green shirt collar, and his clothes were plain, but they were all clean and tidy. His mother helped him set up the lute and then turned away, "Let's go." The young man quickly got on his horse, and said no more, and when he reached the stream, he could not bear it, and when he looked back, he saw a small figure on the hill, kneeling on the ground and praying, and the sun finally rose over the hill, and the figure of his mother melted into it, which was particularly moving. The young man turned away, rode his horse all the way down the valley road, and disappeared into the mountains.

Later, the name of Feljans gradually spread in the Rhodoc Mountains. People who don't know him will be moved by his singing for the first time, and when they see such a beautiful young man, they will be happy to associate with him. He was often seen at village gatherings, where he sang poems and songs for the wedding couples, and the young men were fascinated by his heroic legends, and the old people gladly accepted his advice and told him about the old past at dusk with grapes. In the evening, the hospitable family left him to live, and he played the lute to express his gratitude, so that the maiden of the house opened the door and looked carefully, but her ears had long since stopped listening to the tune, but her cheeks were crimson. He stayed in one village for only one day, and the next day he returned to his journey, where he met a caravan and traveled together.

The Rhodoc trail is rugged and difficult, but the caravan is still frequent, producing some of the best velvets and wines in the continent, which are the favorite of the nobles of the Suno. Fairjans stayed with the caravan at night in the wilderness, which was the best stage for him, the stars in the sky as the gentlest lights, the vast night as the deepest curtain, the mountains and trees as the quietest listeners, and the forest and the wind and water as the most elegant companions. The merchants of Rhodoc also gave him gifts as a sauvenir. When you arrive in town, you will first go to the taverns, which are very lively, especially in Djerkhara. The rather atmospheric stone building is not inferior to the lord's castle residence, and is supported by two thick stone pillars in the middle. When the night comes, the torches are lit all around, the inside of the museum is illuminated, the simple and solemn texture on the stone wall is clearly visible, and even some scholars have verified that this is the oldest tavern in the mainland. The boss lit a fire at the bar, and there was a large exaggerated smoked fish hanging from the beam, and the drinkers could just take it down and cut it everywhere if they wanted to eat it. Feuerjans is also not frightened in such a place, and the war hero loves wine, and he performs everything wonderfully, just like the most sophisticated winemaker to make wine for the texture of various ingredients, and the same is true for wine drinkers, and Feljans is naturally very popular. But what is even more valuable is that the tavern is full of poets and musicians from Rhodoc. What Feljans lacked was not skill but understanding, and finally someone besides his mother understood his ambitions. It turned out that the young poet longed for the heroic deeds, but because Calradia did not have systematic historical materials, he searched around the people, wanting to compile these deeds and create an epic poem as a witness to the immortality of the times. The poets have more or less such a complex, but they have been exhausted by the daily rush and hard work, and lack the persistence and talent of Feuerjans, and now they are inspired by Feuerjans to show their talent again. Their passion, their experience, and now their dedication to Feuernsons, will be Feuerjans' right-hand men until their talents are integrated into the great masterpiece. In this way, the legendary Augustus, the hero, the hero, the Helorin, the soldier, the conquering Drake, the loyal and patriotic Avam, the freedom-loving Bejostad, the invincible Gangding, the brilliant Berleck, and the later Five Kings, and now the Lady of Asona, who unified the continent, all regained their brilliance in their writings and mouths.