Little Arthur held his dagger and curled up in the sand next to the boulder with his arms folded, staring straight at the sun through the trembling light above the desert. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

The fiery red sun had approached the junction of the desert and the sky in the distance, and Arthur's little face was reflected red. Little Arthur thought that the sun god might have heard his prayers and was looking at him through the red light. Little Arthur knew that if the sun god was there, he would tell Arthur that it was time to go home. In a desert that loses the sun god's light, the temperature will drop quickly. Even if little Arthur only showed his eyes in a turban, the yellowish cloak was enough to cover his whole body, and it was a mistake to stay in the dark desert.

By the time Arthur reached the door, the sound of the iron in the backyard had stopped, the fire in the small building had already burned, the smoke was pouring through the chimney on the roof, and the sun was setting for the last rays of light, and he was a little apprehensive—it was obviously too late for the people who used the flame for lighting and heating. Did he even start to disappoint his father when he went home? Little Arthur thought so, and his hands twisted unconsciously.

Simon moved his shoulders and ran his dagger through the meat of the sand lizard leg that had been heated again, removing it from the fireplace flame and placing it on the opposite plate. The meat of the sand lizard has been heated many times, and the tender texture and delicious juice have been lost, and the best time to eat it has been missed, and the effect of increasing strength has been weakened.

Simon frowned, after hearing about what happened during the day, he should have realized that Arthur might be back late. Simon raised his head and was about to cut another slice of raw sand lizard meat for barbecue, when he saw a hesitant figure in front of the small building, thin, flustered, silent...

Simon beckoned to his son, "Come in." ”

The small building, lit only by firelight, was slightly dim, and the dining table was not large, and Simon and Arthur could have seen each other's expressions clearly when they sat at opposite ends, and had a pleasant conversation. But neither father nor son spoke, and they both wanted to say something to break the painful silence, but they were both silent for some reason.

The flames in the fireplace next to the dining table licked the firewood that had been offered to it frantically, without mercy. The firewood finally couldn't bear it anymore, and broke off in the middle, and finally spewed a spark upwards, rolling down to the lower end of the fireplace, only faintly revealing a scarlet fire in the charred part, and then the flame rolled onto another piece of wood, which was still intact, and gnawed carefully.

Simon threw another piece of wood into the fireplace and stared at the flames in a daze, knowing his every move without having to look at his son. Arthur must have folded his hands together and muttered the names of a host of gods, thanking them for giving him food, as if it had not been earned by his own hard work. This seems to be a new habit that has been formed, and it is always after reciting this large series of spells that he is willing to use a knife and fork to deal with the meat of the sand lizard.

Arthur was only nine years and six months old, and Simon already felt that he no longer knew his son.

Simon looked back at his son, who had traded an arm for a sin that the gods would never forgive, and stroked the broken part of his left arm, with a little anger in his heart. Anger swirled in his stomach and rushed to his head, Simon's face flushed, his teeth clenched together, and he suddenly stood up and stared at his son fiercely.

Arthur, who was sitting at the dining table, buried his head lower, as if he were going to bury it deep in his legs.

The only sound in the room was Arthur's thin gnawing.

Simon looked at Arthur, from head to foot, and from foot to head, and finally a feeling of guilt welled up in his heart.

Simon sat down slowly, looking at Arthur's thin arms, and always felt that the cruel and harsh training of the past few years and the irrepressible anger that had been suppressed for six months after the age of eight were not quite appropriate. Simon knew that Arthur's thin arms were full of muscles, but no matter how much he exercised, those thin arms just couldn't swell, even if they were all muscles, he couldn't afford any standard class of weapons. As a nine-year-old boy, Arthur's palms were unusually large, and the joints of the four fingers of his palms were full of calluses, which was a sign of a long holding of a weapon.

One by one, Simon recalls what he had taught Arthur, what he had to know as a cavalryman - a knight's spear, a knight's one-handed sword, a knight's one-handed shield, the important things that distinguished a noble knight from an ordinary cavalryman - battle formation, military philosophy, aristocratic etiquette, and perhaps a little bit of psychology trying to read through people's hearts, and what he had to master as a commander seedling - all the common sense of all other regular and unconventional arms.

When Simon taught Arthur all kinds of knowledge, he always felt that Arthur might be a genius, and Arthur seemed to be able to understand the theory that Simon had memorized by rote until he was verified by the blood of his robe on the battlefield. But when it comes to martial arts-related courses, Arthur always... Do your best. Even a weapon made of balsa wood would always make Arthur's night painful at the end of the day, and the real weapon, a slightly heavier Arthur, couldn't even lift it.

Simon sometimes felt a little unbearable, but the hope that flashed in Arthur's eyes the next morning seemed to encourage him to continue. Simon didn't know why Arthur always looked at him with adoration and hope, and maybe hatred and anger could make him feel better. Simon would always touch Arthur's head again at this time and start a day of brutal training.

Although Arthur's body is painful, his personality has always been cheerful, and his mood has always been cheerful, until the selection of the Hunters comes. Arthur's axe, which he threw desperately in front of everyone, almost fell under his feet, and the knight rushed into the sand with Arthur's one-handed sword, and the display of the dagger went well, if Arthur hadn't cut his left arm in the end.

Then, in just six months, Arthur was what he is now, timid, crying, cautious, silent, and Simon hated faith.

What else did Arthur have? He had tried, he had tried hard, but he was getting farther and farther away from the father he admired, he was still a child, and six months of humiliation, pain, and loss were enough to destroy everything he had. Faith is his final salvation.

However, Arthur is Arthur whom Simon bought with blood and sins.

Arthur had to be a hero, he had to be a commander, he had to be a general, but the premise of all this was that Arthur had to be a warrior.

So, when the children bullied Arthur, Simon chose to stand by, hoping that his son would jump up and teach the hateful fellows a good lesson with the dagger in his hand, but Arthur didn't after all.

Simon shook his head, remembering the fantastical vision of the night of the miracle, and looked at Arthur's right arm again.

Perhaps, while Arthur was desperately eating, exercising desperately, his muscles aching and tearing, waiting for healing in pain, and years in vain, the blue glow of his right arm that had lit up on the night of the miracle just sneered and witnessed all this. Perhaps, when Arthur was knocked to the ground and bullied by the children who once supported him, Lan Mang was sneering and watching.

Simon needed a warrior, and the gods gave him Arthur, a son who could never be a warrior.

Simon hated the faith that spread all over the continent, and the gods made Arthur turn to the gods in helplessness.

Simon was in pain, Arthur was in pain.

Maybe it's time for Arthur to be freed from this pain.

Maybe Simon has just been wishful thinking and training the fighters he needs.

Perhaps it was no longer time for Arthur to be burdened with his own heavy mission and expectations.

Maybe it's time for Arthur to go his own way, to go his own way.

"Arthur. Simon finally broke the eerie silence between the two men.

"Yes... I'm sorry, father, I knew I should have risen up today, I just... It's just scared again. Arthur shuddered as his fork with the sand lizard steak fell on the iron plate with a crisp chirp.

Simon looked at the dropped fork and was stunned for a moment, he knew that Arthur had always been in awe of him, but now this awe seemed to have gradually turned into fear: "Arthur, I have always wanted you to become a real knight, not only to have the ability of a good cavalryman, but also to have the strategy of a commander. Now it seems that I am surprised that you did such a good job in the back part, and I am also surprised that the first part will become an obstacle for you. But you've been working hard and doing well. I've been ignoring your own thoughts..."

"Don't... Don't, Father, I... I work hard, I work hard, I'm a... I'm sure I'll be a knight. Arthur's mouth flattened, and he sobbed with one hand to wipe his tears.

Simon silently watched Arthur cry, Arthur never cried when he was training, no matter how hard he was tired, how hard his muscles twitched and torn every day, but in recent months he has become a crybaby.

"Arthur, you have always been much more mature than other children, and you yourself know that a young man who is not yet able to train with an iron sword will not become a real knight, and will either retreat into the background as a staff member or reluctantly follow the knight as a squire. ”

Arthur wiped away his tears, his nose still twitching, but he had stopped crying.

Arthur knew that his father was right, and when he couldn't get strong no matter how much he trained or nourished, he knew that this would be the result.

Arthur, who admired his father, had always had a hard time refusing his father's eyes and ardent expectations, so he persevered on the path of a young knight. So when his father pointed out that it was difficult for him to become a knight, Arthur could only look at his father in a daze.

"Arthur, I've been a little too selfish. When you don't know what war is, you don't know what a knight is, I want you to train as a knight, your physique is not suitable for being a warrior, but I let you continue because of the obsession in my heart. My single-mindedness has led to today's situation. ”

"I never thought about your thoughts, your wishes. ”

"I'm sorry, Arthur. ”

"Arthur, it's time to stop this senseless suffering. ”

"Arthur, I used to be a knight, maybe not very qualified, you know, a knight, appearing here, no other family, no title, no knighthood, must be an unqualified knight, not to mention, only one arm. ”

"I don't know how to live any other way, my life was full of robes, blood glory, and battles. But now my life is only you, and your life should never be just me, and it should never be just the way I used to go. ”

"Arthur, now I give you a choice, you can continue my unfinished journey, which will be full of suffering and danger, or you can choose another path, stay in the sand village and do what you can, or go out from here to the St. Aaron Empire, your intellect and talent will be respected..."

Listening to his father's confessional apology, Arthur's chest suddenly swelled up with an indescribable anger, which could no longer be bearable, and before his father finished speaking, he threw down the knife and stood up, clasped his thin left chest with his right hand, and roared loudly like a true knight's salute: "Gods, I, Arthur Haber, swear that I am willing to continue my father's unfinished journey, and my father's sword will be drawn by me!

Simon watched his son stand up impulsively and say his vows out loud, knowing that he might have said the wrong thing, and that repentance became an inspiration.

Arthur didn't know where the war was, the only enemy he knew was a sand lizard or a giant scorpion, he didn't know what his father's journey was like, he didn't know what the meaning of his oath was, but he still made this absurd and impulsive oath.

However, Simon looked at Arthur's resolute face, and always felt that Arthur seemed to be more than just impulsive.

Since the little ones want to try again, the old man always has to give it a chance.

Simon walked to the fireplace, pulled out the tongs that had been used for many years in the fire, held them firmly in his hand, and quickly pulled a standard cross sword flower, as if preparing for another big battle, the muscles of his strong right arm bulged, and with a streamer of light, he slashed into the table made of desert boulders.

The long-standing charcoal ash on the tongs was shattered, revealing a glittering blade.

It was a short sword, reflecting the glow of the fireplace on one side and the moon outside the window on the other, the tip of the sword pointing straight at the tip of Arthur's nose.

Arthur trembled a little, but after all, his eyes did not blink, and he maintained a standing knightly salute with his right hand clasped behind his chest and his left hand.

"Arthur!" exclaimed Simon.

"In the name of one knight against another, we made a three-year agreement. ”

Simon drew his dagger, the tip of which was slightly angled upwards, pointing at Arthur in the distance.

This is the standard posture used only when the knights of the Huron Yar continent make the most solemn vows.

Arthur's face flushed, and a knight's pride, glory, and sense of justice welled up in his chest, and he drew his dagger and attached it to the blade of the sword.

"I, Simon Haber, will do everything I can to teach Arthur Haber in the war of the gods of the continent of Huron Yar in these three years, and if Arthur Haber fails to enter any of the Continental War Abertries in three years, Arthur Haber will give up the road of war forever!

"The gods are above, I, Arthur?" Haber willing!"

"You'll never be able to appear on the battlefield as a knight, and you'll never even be able to appear on the battlefield as any regular class!

"The gods are above, I, Arthur?" Haber willing!"

"You won't be a commander, you won't be a staff member! You will be in a dark corner forever! You will be the first to appear on the battlefield and the last to leave! Would you like to?"

"The gods are above, I, Arthur?" Haber willing!"

Simon stabbed the short sword into the boulder, and Arthur stabbed it hard, bringing up a dazzling spark, desperately holding the dagger, and the palm of the shaking hand hurt.