"Actually, I'm not going to die."

Agnes looked at the old man's rough hand and whispered comfortingly.

The old man didn't speak, but gently tugged at Agnes' soaked tattered garment, trying to pull Agnes up with his weakened strength.

Agnes did not resist, and stood up unharmoniously following the old man's near-nothingness of strength.

The rain ran down Agnes's skin, dripping in threads, creating a little ripple on the ground.

Agnes followed the old man's stumbling steps into the house.

There is not much difference between the inside and outside of the house, and it is even a little more stuffy.

The ground was soaked into a puddle of mud, and the old man's only belongings were piled up like garbage on the only wooden table.

The legs of the wooden table are covered with dark wet marks, where dark brown fan-like fruiting bodies grow in cascading places.

The old man pulled out a gray cloth from the pile, and Agnes reached out to take it.

It was slightly sticky and damp to the touch, but at least much drier than the rags she had on her body now.

"I should give you a dry suit," the old man said with a slight regret, "but now I only have this one left on me." ”

Agnes crouched down in silence, stiffly and slowly wiping away the rain that ran down her skin, and soon the cloth was as thoroughly soaked as her body.

The old man came over with a clay bowl with a broken corner, and inside was a piece of cured meat.

"Eat something." She said softly with a hint of anticipation in her tone.

Agnes reached out and took it, and the cured meat in the bowl had a little white spot on it, and the taste of rancidity was faint and wisps.

"This is what I found from a dead Rune soldier." The old man said with some joy.

"I was so happy, thinking that I was able to eat it when I was dying, it was a god's extra favor."

The old man spoke with great interest, but with a hint of self-deprecation in his tone.

"Then I took a bite and realized that I couldn't bite it anymore."

Agnes listened quietly to the old man, was silent for a long time, and pushed the clay bowl back into the old man's arms.

"I don't eat it, you eat it, eat it...... Stay alive. The old man was stunned for a moment, and his tone was low.

Agnes looked at her with some complication, and finally just whispered, "I can't eat it." ”

“...... Why can't you eat it......" The old man's hand holding the bowl trembled, as if he would throw it down at any moment, and the sound of muttering in his mouth was almost inaudible.

Agnes couldn't help but sigh, and reached out to hold the old man's hand holding the bowl, and a faint warmth almost came through her skin.

The old man looked at Agnes in a daze, suddenly burst into tears, put down the bowl, raised his hand tremblingly, tried to touch the top of Agnes's head, and finally put it down.

"I have several children," she whispered, "and I survived two, but they died. ”

"The little one...... When I died, I was about the same age as you, I was about seventeen or eighteen years old at that time, and there was a famine. ”

"I was so hungry, at that time," she said, staring at the dark corners of the room, "that he could not help himself, and ran out to steal something to eat from the Fursaks, and was caught." ”

"They beat him up, and when I found him, he was only half breathing."

The old man's voice trembled.

"He said, 'Mom, eat me.'"

The old man stopped talking and closed his mouth, his body trembling slightly.

It was a long time before she continued to speak.

"The big one followed the rebels as they passed by, didn't come back, and probably died."

She stopped after saying just one word, just looking at Agnes.

"You're a rebel too." She said suddenly.

Agnes didn't answer, but the old man didn't care.

"I don't know what I'm fighting, why I'm hitting ......," she whispered, "...... More and more people are dying, and they are getting younger and younger. ”

The old man looked at Agnes with tears in his eyes.

"I probably won't survive this rain, but you're so young that you have to live."

The old man reached out and grabbed the cured meat from the bowl, stuffed the corner of the cured meat into his mouth, and his shriveled lips trembled, and pouted hard.

She didn't know what she tasted, and she let go of the cured meat in her mouth, a little stunned.

“...... It turned out to be broken......" she muttered under her breath.

"Let's just find a pot to boil." Agnes took the meat from the old man's hand and comforted softly.

She stood up, but was pulled by the old man.

"Don't coax me," said the old man with a smile, reaching out to toss the meat from Agnes' hand back into the bowl, "sit with me." ”

The rain curtain rustled outside, and Agnes sat with the old man in the mire of the house, not speaking.

"Will it get better in the future?" The old man asked suddenly.

Agnes was silent for a long time before nodding.

"It's going to be fine," she said categorically, and then her voice gradually lowered, "it's going to be fine." ”

Will live in a sturdy and comfortable house, will have a full meal.

People who leave home will eventually come back with a smile on their faces.

Agnes looked at the sleeping old man who was leaning on her shoulder, silent and silent.

...... She won't wake up again.

Agnes looked at her hand, where a soft glow slowly emanated.

"A tender longing for blessings,"

"The world is crazy and depraved, and she is like a lifeless shell on a sand dune full of dry salt grains, but at least until the last moment of her life, she is still willing to be gentle with the world."

-----------------

"It's normal to go three months without a response."

Dreiser took a sip of black tea and said helplessly.

Milo pursed her lips and didn't speak.

"I want to try again."

After a moment of silence, Milo said.

"Madame must have heard my prayers for something."

Dreiser's tea took another sip.

Milo glanced at him, walked into the prayer room, and slammed the door of the prayer room shut.

Dreiser shrugged his shoulders and didn't speak.

"Dear Ms. Poyelia......"

Milo clasped her hands and bowed her head respectfully.

“...... I pray for your response......"

A faint whisper rang in his ears, and Milo lifted his spirits.

The whispers continued for a while, but nothing else happened.

Milo's spirit was unconsciously low.

He lowered his hand, wanting to stand up and end the ceremony.

"Milo?" A soft, tired voice sounded in his ears, and his movements stopped.

"Lady Poyesia!"

Milo instantly perked up.

"Sorry, something happened the last few months."

Agnes counted the astonishing number of prayers Milo had prayed for more than three months, and said with a little apology.

"It's all right, ma'am," Milo said with some pleasure in his tone, and then, cautiously, he asked, "Did anything happen to you?" ”

After a long silence, Agnes sighed.

"Do you think I'm a god, Milo?"

She asked softly.