She came from the sorrow of thousands of souls.

Towards a more distant, miserable, and lonely future.

——————

Morgan blinked.

Blinked again.

And then blinked again......

Eventually, the overly bright golden light finally moved away from her pupils and vision, and disappeared into the edge of the realm of memory like a slowly moving away star.

Morgan stared at it, her spine shuddered every time her gaze crossed the sharp, blinding light.

——————

She hated it.

Or rather, fear.

——————

She knew what the silent figure and the unhesitating gesture meant: the sacrificial, selfless, untreatable glow of the cold sun.

But she also knew that the sacrifice, the selflessness, the light did not belong to her.

Doesn't belong to anyone.

Morgan found herself witnessing a rather twisted and strong will, witnessing an eerie reality that could plunge her mind into endless confusion.

The cold sun overlooks and shines on all his people in the name of selflessness, but mercilessly allows the unfortunate to burn under his heat, as if his mercy were only shrouded in a vain word, and not every living life represented by this title.

This relentless wheel of the sun squandered the lives of those he loved, and with faith, meanness, and slaughter, built a mad cause that existed and worked for him alone, but which he sincerely longed for all ignorant to have.

For a moment, Morgan couldn't tell whether this was ridiculously noble selflessness or despicable selfishness.

He took the gamble in the name of a race, and the stake was the eternal rest of his life that He could have rested on.

How selfless.

He has done great things with the submission of countless people, but he is so arrogant that he allows himself to control everything alone.

How selfish.

……

[Arrogance]

Morgan spat out the comment softly, but she soon realized that such a simple word could not explain it all, and she began to think, and experienced the pain necessary to think.

But she soon realized that now was not the right time to think about it.

So, she put this scene on the shelf.

Her inner instinct told her that sooner or later she would be able to use what she had just witnessed.

——————

After all, although she was full of awe and fear for the golden back, it did not mean that she did not have the courage to meet him.

It's just that now, the time has not come.

——————

When Hector heard that sigh, he actually sighed quietly in his heart.

He walked in a dead land, leaning on the Persian cat lady on his left shoulder, and in his right hand the dark green phasing sword: though he hadn't wielded it in a while.

In fact, it wasn't because of the lack of enemies, as they progressed deeper into the true core of the Battle Moon, the automatic sensing system in Hecht's helmet never stopped screaming.

All sorts of twisted aliens swooped down on them, but even the most powerful and fearless of them could only loom at the end of Hecht's vision, and then collapsed in a sudden wail and scream, turning into another chewing and slightly satisfied sigh from the lady.

Even the untouchable didn't change the situation: Morgan just blew a gentle breeze, and in an instant it became a storm of destruction wrapped in stone and metal, sweeping towards the end of the vision.

Then, the shattered bodies of the untouchable would be scattered around every corner, telling Hector of the power of the true top psionics.

Looking at such a scene, looking at one after another mountains of corpses and a sea of blood, Hector was not shocked, confused, not sighed, and not shocked.

He had squandered these traces of the previous Terra Standards.

Now, looking at this scene like a natural disaster, Hecht's face was only numb, endless numbness.

Like a clockwork clockwork, he moved with the steadiest steps toward the goal in mind, while trying to match the sound of his breathing on his left shoulder, the only thing he could do now.

After going forward like this for an unknown amount of time, Hector even felt his spirit enter a rather relaxed state, and he was even able to raise his head and look at the stars above him.

They are bright red.

It was exactly the same as the day he left his hometown.

——————

Hector hails from Priam, a mediocre feudal world that is not too far from Sacred Terra, but because of its remote location, it has long been ignored by the high-ups of the Human Empire.

Until one day, an imperial warship docked in the sky above this world.

That year, Hector was ten years old, and he was already a royal heir who could gallop and hunt alone.

He was one of the king's eight sons, not too noble in the maternal line, but he was born quite strong and tall, and by the age of ten he was almost as big and powerful as the most powerful knights under his biological father, and he was in armor enough to be fake.

This God-given power made him the pride, the god and the future of the royal family, and while his siblings were still learning the rigid etiquette and conversation in the courtyard, he could wear his tenacity and spend a day in the royal hunting forest.

Until that day, the great shadow swept through the royal forest and gardens, and the whole palace was shrouded in shadow and unease.

Hector saw the tall silver-armored warriors emerge from the great iron bird, his biological father kneeling at their feet, whispering like the most respectful servant of the royal family.

He could hear sighs of relief ringing in everyone's throats as the warriors claimed they weren't here to pay taxes.

But soon, these courteous visitors from outside the world explained their demands.

They want blood.

The new blood of the legion.

……

Hector was chosen almost immediately.

The leading warrior looked at his height of nearly two meters, and heard his age, and was visibly stunned for a moment, before nodding.

And just like that, he was chosen.

He could vaguely see his biological father's stiff smile and his biological mother's low crying hiding in the crowd.

The selection went on for a while, and every young child in the royal capital was asked to participate, and one by one they entered the makeshift houses, and most of them soon came out and returned to their original lives, with only a few remaining there, and most of them only stayed for a few more days.

After a while, the silver-armored warriors who had traveled to various parts of the kingdom also returned, some empty-handed, others followed by one or two sturdy young children, and it was at that time that Hector met Salieri: he followed a [gentle] warrior with a staff in his hand, and carried with him an uncontrollable strange surprise attack, which was said to be witchcraft.

But Hector didn't have the energy to care about all this, for the little time he had left had been locked up in the training ground by his biological father since he had become the only chosen prince, and the best knights and veterans had been carefully selected to train with him day and night, and even his father himself would join in, wielding his sword with ferocity, as if it were a real fight to the death.

And in those remaining rest time, he had to stay with his biological mother again, and vaguely, he no longer remembered the situation at that time, only remembered that the tears of his biological mother were like a gurgling stream, dripping on his forehead and shoulders.

She always hugged him, without saying a word, and whenever she wanted to say something, she would be replaced by endless whimpering and sobbing, and she would caress those scars in distress, but she never complained about it.

This went on for a while, perhaps for one or two Terra standard months, until the last warrior in silver armor returned to the capital.

That night, it was the final training.

When Hector arrived at the training ground, he was surprised to find that the knights and veterans were gone, and his father was standing alone in the middle of the training ground, looking at the statues in the square: it was the honor of the family, telling how the successive kings of the family had created a great cause of unity with indomitable and cunning.

"They always say I'm the worst generation of kings."

"After 300 years of rule, I am the only one who has chosen to bow my knees to foreign enemies, willing to pay high taxes, rather than using sword and blood to defend the glory of the ancients, to defend the independence of the country, and to defend the glory of my ancestors."

"Those idiots, what do they know......"

"That's all I can do when I see how those fleets are obscuring the sky."

"I used to think that such a choice would keep me, or at least my family, away from the war."

"War is never a good thing."

"But now, they're coming, and they're going to take you."

"Those Angels of Death......"

The king sighed, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he raised his sword.

"It's the last time."

He said.

So, under the scarlet starry sky, the father and the son launched another battle that was infinitely close to reality.

They clashed and confronted each other, and in this way they fought until the bright moon hung high in the sky.

The king stopped suddenly, bowed his head, and casually threw his sword aside.

"So be it...... Go and rest......"

"Tomorrow, you're leaving, now, go and stay with your mother."

He waved his hand, the crimson stars glowing his shadow.

"I'm not a good father, and frankly, I can't even call each of your brothers by name, enough time has been wasted on me, and I can only train with you...... But I can't actually teach you anything. ”

"I'm not a knight, I'm not a sage, I'm not a general, I'm just a king......"

He sighed and turned slowly.

Hector stopped his biological father and asked him questions these days.

"Role? What is the role of training? ”

The king laughed, and he seemed to instinctively want to make a long speech, but in the end, he just pieced together a few sentences in fits and starts.

"Nothing."

"It's useless......"

"If the purpose is the purpose."

"Probably, I want you to survive."

"Even a little more possibility......"

He still wanted to say something, but he had no more confidence.

Eventually, Hector watched as his biological father covered his face with his old palm, bent over and disappeared into the darkness.

After a long time.

He looked up.

Only the scarlet stars were seen.