The sky is dark, the streets are full of people, and the city is quiet. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

Camp Roger Cathedral, with its golden decorations glowing elegantly, and under the gray and gloomy high walls, more and more people gathered.

"Many, many people."

By the window of the cathedral building, the little girl with a lovely face looked down a little timidly, and said in surprise to the old priest beside her, "Mr. City Team is here!" ”

The withered red orchid on the high platform dripped droplets, slid down the wind veil, and quietly splashed on the silver armor of the guards of the "Rog Walk", and the water drops submerged into the gaps in the armor, and the man's resolute expression did not wave.

There were quite a few soldiers accompanying them, and this team of guards in iron helmets was walking in a neat stride and stopped in front of a heroic Rog.

"That's the mission, and it's a long time ago to protect the sacredness of the ritual."

"The darkness is still deep, but the struggle is over."

The smile on the old priest's face was replaced by solemnity, like the portrait of an angel on stained glass, he followed the little girl's gaze and looked down, and whispered to himself, "The light has always sheltered us. ”

A team of guards in iron helmets was marching in unison and stopped in front of a heroic Rog.

The request seemed to be denied, and the guards' eyes darkened.

"We see, can we give a bouquet of flowers?"

Presented the white chrysanthemum that was tightly pinched, and the tone of the captain in front was unusually sincere.

She turned around and shook her head sadly, "I understand your feelings. ”

There was a stalemate for a while, and the oppressive atmosphere was quickly broken.

Knock-knock-knock.

The dull sound of bells rang from the top of Camp Rog's Cathedral and swept through the city, and the guards raised their heads and clasped their hands to their chests in respect.

Under the deep gaze of everyone, the grand closed doors of the cathedral slowly opened, and the white procession gradually poured out.

Countless white-clad believers hurried down the ninety-two white steps, and the tower paladin Hades followed, and when he looked up slightly, he found the guard at the bottom of the steps, mentioning the embarrassed Rog.

"Mr. Hades."

Rog hurriedly saluted, but was stopped by Hades waving his hand.

"Let's go."

A grim light swept over the guards, piercing their hearts like swords, and their breath suffocated.

"There needs to be silence in front of the cathedral."

As if noticing a bunch of white chrysanthemums in the stiff hands of the captain of the guard, Hades's eyes fluctuated slightly, and he took the chrysanthemums in the surprised gaze of Roger on the side.

“・・・”

The surprise in the eyes of the guards slowly dissipated, and they all took a deep breath, threw a grateful look at Hades, and walked back to the original path under the leadership of the captain.

"Can I go to the conference room now?"

Hades' gaze lingered on the dew on the white chrysanthemum for a long time, until the guard disappeared around the corner, and then he turned his head and asked the white-robed monk beside him.

The displeasure in the voice can be heard.

After a tentative glance at Hades, his face did not change, and the monk regained his composure.

A drop of cold sweat left on the monk's forehead, just right to cover the shadow of the white hat, and he smiled bitterly and said, "The bishop has done everything in his power to hope that the professional master will be considerate. ”

"You also know very well that even in that Ice Fields Battle, the sacrificed professionals can be called back by the bishop, so the responsibility is not ours, uh... This defeat is no accident, only to defeat that demon..."

The friar's explanation was methodical and his words were clear, but he didn't notice the increasingly cold face of Hades on the top of his head.

Abnormal protrusions.

"Shut up! You hypocrites! ”

Before Hades could speak, Roger on the side shouted angrily, her beautiful eyes widened and filled with heavy tears, "Didn't you just use a few spars... If the demons attack the church, you are high..."

But the monk ignored it, raised his voice a little, and only looked at Hades.

"The danger must be resolved as soon as possible, and if necessary, I will convey the bishop's orders."

The monk turned his head, as if he had just seen the angry and weeping female Rog, and did not hide the indifference in his voice: "How many spars? It was the life of the bishops! If it weren't for us, you Roger would have become demonic puppets if you died outside, and your souls would have been mired in rot! ”

Contemptuous, ruthless, and indifferent, the male friar in her eyes seemed to be transformed into a demon in white.

Inhumane.

"Fart, bastard, what do you know..."

The female Roger was stunned, and suddenly became angry, but she couldn't find the words to refute, the tears in her eyes dripped uncontrollably, and her voice gradually weakened.

Staying comfortably in the spacious and bright cathedral, how can these so-called clergy understand the misery and cruelty of survival?

The professional at the apex has fallen, and the high monk still maintains a lofty posture, and there is no awe in the cold and unforgiving eyes.

The sacrifice of heroes is not even comparable to a few spars?

What a joke, only these monks think so.

How many people respect Chiri, respect Fern, and come here against discipline, and there are so many condensations in it that it is difficult to describe the heaviness in words, is it worthless?

She wanted to cry out hysterically, so that the hypocrites who preached the teachings before her and did not know the truth of them would open their eyes to all this.

All this sacrifice, all this cruelty.

All of this is where the value and meaning lie.

Far more than a few words on the church's broken scriptures, a few lifeless patterns, and that meaningless color.

But at this moment, the torrent of emotions stuck in her throat, she didn't look like an angry warrior, but like a helpless girl who was wronged and trembling, choked and speechless.

“・・・”

Without further words, the friar turned away and re-entered the cathedral, surrounded by a group of white worshippers.

Quietly, only the sound of unhurried footsteps remained.

Rog hung his head, bit his lip, and endured the grief in his heart, as a warrior, it was a shame to cry like this.

She didn't want to give Hades the impression of being weak-willed, but she couldn't stop the tears anyway.

Really a nest.

She thought about it and didn't dare to look up.

"That's enough."

The voice was sudden and gentle, Rog raised her head in surprise, and the tower-like paladin Hades patted the upright girl on the shoulder, "Zhu Lan is still in the church, you stay here and wait for her." ”

As if adding, he continued: "Look away. ”

Paladin Hades is almost the oldest paladin in Rog's camp, and Rogers have only a taciturn impression of him.

Enough had been said, she wiped the tears from her face and nodded heavily.