'Always be skeptical, because what is written is not necessarily true'

- So said Brad Reid, an ancient sage.

*

*

*

There was not a trace of cloud in the white-blue sky, and the golden body of Mu, the great and divine Lord of Light, the Source of Life, and the supreme and only god of God and Lord of the Gods, hung high in the sky, and the fiery light burned the earth happily.

The small square paved with sand and gravel was scorched by the sun, waves of heat rose from the ground, the air twisted and danced, and everything in front of me was twisted and danced.

To the north of the small square, under the long barracks with wooden and stone structures and upper and lower floors, dozens of sweaty artillerymen were shirtless, carefully wiping down a dozen well-maintained field guns.

A thick wall of stone enclosed the huge barracks, and outside the southern gate, musketeers in their early 200s, as well as a considerable number of auxiliaries, dressed in iron-gray summer linen uniforms, enclosed a large open space.

On the left hand side of the camp gate, under a huge old oak tree, the same upper body was exposed, and Gorkin, who was covered in sweat, sat on a big rock, gritted his teeth hard, and his thin cheeks were bulging, and he looked at the small square table in front of him a little melancholy.

On the square table, there is a white paper, which is a military letter paper uniformly ordered by the Imperial Military Department, which is of excellent quality, white, scratched, and very textured.

On the top of the white paper, the Hydra coat of arms emblem representing the Imperial Army is printed, and below the military emblem, there is a thin line of iron-gray small characters - 'Caliber is truth, range is justice'!

A few lines of scribbled black handwriting were deeply embedded in the letterhead, and the person who wrote was so forceful that there were shallow traces on the square table table under the letterhead.

'Dear Mother, Dear Father:'

'Half a month ago, we left the Khiva Valley, and now I'm leading a team stationed in Little Rock in the Rann Corridor. ’

'That's right, we've reclaimed the Rhine Corridor. This is the old land of the empire, and the people here are simple and honest......

Outside the gate of the barracks, in the open space surrounded by the soldiers, thirty angry gallows were neatly lined up, and dozens of soldiers with big shoulders and round waists were forcibly pushing thirty men in ragged clothes and covered in blood onto the gallows.

A gendarme, still neatly dressed in the scorching sun, with his sweat-soaked coat covered with water marks, stood on a wooden platform next to the gallows, holding a piece of sturdy, wear-resistant parchment, and reciting hoarsely.

"In the name of the Empire, according to the Wartime Military Law of the Empire, all the bandits who are bold and reckless, steal and burn military baggage, poison and murder Imperial soldiers under well water, spread rumors, and incite riots, all bandits will be hanged!"

Thirty weak-breathed men struggled with all their might, and their mouths kept spitting out wonderful greetings derived from the great fusion of the bloodlines of biological races, mixed with a large number of concepts that reversed human morality.

'Bang'!

Thirty gallows shook at the same time, ropes straightened, and the sound of broken necks was faintly heard in the air.

Gorkin glanced melancholy at the twitching body on the gallows, sighed, grabbed the dipping pen, gritted his teeth, and quickly drew a few lines on the letter paper.

Of course, the girls in Little Rock are even hotter and more enthusiastic. Especially towards the Imperial soldiers, their attitude is fanatical. ’

After a moment's silence, Gorkin looked at the street directly in front of the gallows, and carefully added a line to the letterhead.

'Fanatical, oh open, fanatical maidens, so cute. But what can we do because of Imperial Military Law? ’

Dozens of thin, shriveled women in turbans and overskirts hissed and screamed as they stormed the Imperial soldiers guarding the gallows. The burly, sturdy musketeers raised their flintlock pistols in a bit of embarrassment, barely parrying the 'fanatical' women.

The women's sharp nails scratched at the soldiers' faces mercilessly, and several of them had been scratched with deep blood.

The new flintlock pistols in their hands could knock these unsuspecting women to the ground with a flick of their fingers. But the soldiers were only embarrassed and passively defended, and nearly a hundred of the empire's most elite new-style musketeers were forced to retreat by dozens of women.

The woman was screaming, swearing.

"Executioner, return my little Hans."

"Imperial dog, little March is wronged!"

"You butchers, get out of our Little Rock."

"Imperial dogs are not welcome in the Rann Corridor, leave our land!"

"Foul-smelling Hydra, go back to your rotting swamp!"

Dozens of auxiliaries rushed forward with shields to assist the embarrassed musketeers in holding off the crazy women.

But under the onslaught of the women, their defenses seemed so precarious.

Behind these women, on the street in front of the barracks, there were nearly a thousand residents of Little Rock, basically all men. These men, they looked at the gallows with gloomy eyes, at the squirrel gang swinging on the gallows.

All in all, it's a wonderful city. Life here is even a little too comfortable. I even have free time to go fishing, hunting, and relax. ’

Gorkin whistled, swirled the dipping pen around his fingertips, and in his deep eye sockets, two dark eyes suddenly froze.

Less than thirty paces from the barracks gate, just across the street, in the attic of a small three-story building, there was a sudden 'boom' sound from behind the shutters. A long arrow screeched like a viper, piercing Gorkin in the chest.

Gorkin jerked his left hand, and five iron bar-like fingers slammed into the speeding arrow.

In the next moment, Gorkin had crossed the street, jumped up, smashed the blinds, and broke into the attic. His speed was so fast that the residents of Little Rock on the street only saw a translucent figure flashing by.

After a muffled thud, a thin figure vomited blood, flew out of the shattered shutters, and fell heavily into the street. A small group of soldiers ran over and quickly tied him with ropes.

The residents of Little Rock on the street began to stir, and many young people mixed in the crowd subconsciously put their hands into their trouser pockets or sleeves.

Inside the barracks gates, a row of six field guns was pushed out.

The commotion quickly subsided, but the gloom of wildfire grew in the eyes of the residents of Little Rock.

While the emaciated figure flying out of the attic was still struggling, Gorkin had already sat down on the boulder, as if he had not moved at all, clutching the dipping pen and looking at the letter in front of him gloomily.

Except for the fact that the rations brought in by the military department tasted a little worse, life in Little Rock was so pleasant that there was nothing to fault with it. ’

So, dear mother, dear father, can you surprise me a little when I receive my next letter? ’

"Hmm, if you can, bring me two barrels of coffee beans from the Black Continent, I can't tolerate the water distributed by the military department." ’

'I know smoking is not a good habit, but if I can receive two small cases of Hawa cigars, I will be happy. ’

Plus, the gin procured by the military was like poison, and every time I forced myself to pour that horrible liquid, I felt like I was killing myself. For the sake of my health, I feel that if I can have a few large barrels of gold medal rum, I will feel the warmth of my family, and I will feel the fiery love of my parents, and I will feel very happy. ’

Also, sausages, yes, I miss the homemade sausages at home. Blood sausage, sauerkraut sausage, cheese sausage, curry sausage, mustard sausage...... The great 'Mu' is on top, and I'm already starting to drool. ’

'Little Rock is a good place, but in the years since they left the Empire, they have been influenced by the Highlanders, who have discarded the Empire's gastronomic traditions, and now they will only have one terrible dish, which is boiled meat. ’

I miss the homemade sausages at home, so, dear mother, send me some sausages. There will be a lot of shameless people who will take a few off when they pass by my office, so please send more of them. ’

'Dear mother, I still miss your fried pork knuckle, smoked sheep's head, roasted lamb liver, braised beef trotters, dried beef tongue, pickled tripe, dried shark, whale skin, ray fin, fried fish balls, all kinds of small fresh fish soaked in oil, small conch, small seashells, etc. You are such an amazing food master, please send me a copy of all the delicious foods you have in your hand. ’

'Dear Father, if you can, please send me some old yeast from home, and some top hops and malt. The weather was hot, the beer was not resistant to transportation, and the military department canceled the beer item in the logistics supply list. And Little Rock actually discarded the beer tradition of the empire, and the whole of Little Rock couldn't find a drop of beer! Can't find a drop of beer! What a terrible thing this is! ’

My brothers, are dying of thirst these days. I think that brewing some beer to relieve their nostalgia is the duty and virtue of a chief. ’

'As an Imperial soldier, it is undoubtedly shameful and inhumane to have no beer to accompany your meal. ’

Gorkin was writing letters home at a rapid pace.

The thin man who was beaten by him and vomited blood and fell to the ground was violently pushed by a team of soldiers to the gate of the barracks.

The thin man struggled as hard as he could, staring at Gorkin like a wolf: "Imperial lackey, butcher Gorkin, you are dead, dead." All Imperial dogs that enter the Lanyin Corridor will die here. Big brother won't let you go, big brother won't let you go! ”

Gorkin raised his head and glanced at the man gloomily: "Big brother? So, you're a little minion? The little minion is worthless, help him and fly a kite! ”

After a few breaths, amid the hysterical invective of the women, there was another 'boom' on the gallows.

With a sigh, Gorkin continued to write letters home.

It may be that the bait used is not good, and I am disappointed that I have just caught a worthless little trash fish at the time of writing. But it doesn't matter, here in Little Rock, there are a lot of big fish. ’

'Well, the above delicacy, please send it to my dear mother quickly, I really miss the delicious food that I could enjoy at home every day before I joined the army. Great 'Mu', the next time the empire increases its military spending, can it spend more on the logistics of the 'army'? ’

'Look at those naval ...... in the port of Tulum They are useless to the Reich, but they waste so much military spending! ’

I wish my mother and father good health and peace. ’

By the way, say hello to my younger siblings. Tifa, Weima, I miss them a little bit. ’

Especially say hello to Joe, he should have graduated, right? Say to him for me, and the next time I see the Wells pups, I'll take my share and break their legs. ’

Above, Gorkin Jon Wittu in Little Rock, Rhine Corridor, Imperial Grand Province. July 15, 1379 in the Metland Glory calendar. ’