Fogrem had thought he could see a city, but now he realized he was wrong.

He stood blankly at the top of the gloomy minaret, his brothers standing side by side like him, only one crouching comfortably above the head of the gargoyle that stretched out from the edge, as if he had been born here.

The smell of the smell and the sound of gunfire from the streets made the handsome demigod frown uncontrollably.

He didn't need to turn his head to know the expressionless faces of Roger Dorn and Ferus at the moment, and the way Lora frowned at their father's orders.

If they can endure, so can he.

“...... Conrad? He called in a low voice. Where is this? ”

"Quintus."

Squatting on top of the gargoyle, his brother replied in jerky High Gothic.

The hissing sounded like it had nothing to do with Gothic, and the accent was still severe. However, his voice was soft, and there was a strange habit in it.

Fogham pursed his lips, and Conrad Coetzes' tattered clothes took his eyes off him—it couldn't hide the young original's extraordinary physique, but it could represent something else.

"Confusion."

A calm voice said. "I don't see any order, not even bad order. Conrad Coetzes, why is this happening? ”

Fogham sighed uncontrollably, and he heard a calm reproach in Roger Donne's tone.

"Because the purge is coming." Said their younger brother. "Once in twenty years, Carlil said, the last time it was more chaotic than it is now."

"The Great Purge?"

"Yes."

"Didn't you think about doing something?" Roger Dorn asked.

"Do what?" Conrad Coetzes asked, his tone calm.

Fogham was horrified, thinking that their new brother was going to start arguing with Rog - this was not unusual, and whoever spoke to Rog Dorn had a chance of happening.

But he didn't want to see this happen to a one-and-a-half-year-old.

Dorn, however, was silent. After a while, he spoke, "...... You don't know what to do, do you? ”

"I know." Konrad Coetzes said. "Carlil told me what to do."

"Why do you want him to tell you what to do?"

Rog Dorn's voice was still calm, but Fogham had begun to blink rapidly—he turned his head to look at Ferus, only to find him sighing silently with his hands folded.

Lorga stood beside Ferus, silently turning her head, and looked at each other with Fogham with a somewhat complicated expression.

No one spoke.

"Why not?" Konrad Coetzes said. "At least, Carlil has been right until now."

"You're a genotype, Konrad Coetzes. Maybe you don't understand what the word means right now, but you will soon. You will have a great responsibility that requires you to think for yourself, not to rely on a mortal. ”

"Carlil is not mortal."

"Yes, he's a psyker, but that doesn't mean much."

Conrad Coetzes stood up from the gargoyle - for a moment, Fogham thought his brother would have anger or something like that. If anything, Vogrim understood him.

However, no.

There is only one calm.

He walked back to the top of the building, shorter than them all, but calmly walked past them, leaning against a humming machine.

Then, he smiled. The smile was stiff, and even a little suspicious of the meaning behind it. However, the primitives present did not misunderstand.

They could see Conrad Coetze's eyes and knew there was no malice in them.

Fogham pursed his lips, not understanding what kind of mentality Conrad Coates had in front of Roger Dorn's words.

He thought that if someone were to talk to me about 'Colin is just a worker,' I'd probably do something irrational.

"You don't know him well, Mr. Roger Dorn."

"Call me Rog, or Dorne—you don't need to put that honorific after my name. You and I are brothers. ”

"Not yet." Conrad Coetzes said calmly.

“......”

A cold wind blew, and then, silence.

Of course, they couldn't penetrate the demigods' skin, and in fact, even if the temperature was much lower, it wouldn't make them feel uncomfortable.

However, in the midst of the cold wind, the tall giants fell silent, except for one of the smaller ones, still resting comfortably against the air filter, calm and comfortable.

"What does that mean?"

Roger Dorn asked, then frowned slowly, a serious expression slowly blooming across his countenance. Fogrem watched his expression change slowly, and for the first time felt the atmosphere become stagnant.

Ah, something is wrong. He thought silently.

"Not yet." Conrad Coetzes repeated. "You're his son, aren't you?"

"Of course." Luo Jia replied quickly.

"But I don't know if I am." Konrad Coetzes said. "And if I'm not, I'm not your brother."

"You can't be." Ferrus whispered. "Can't you feel the connection of blood, brother?"

A pair of dark eyes looked at it, and then, the subject nodded slowly, but shook his head again, and his silky black hair fluttered in the foul-smelling air.

He was obviously dressed in tattered patchwork clothes, but at this moment he was calm enough to be taken for granted.

"How could you not?" Luo Jia was anxious, as if she wanted to prove something. "Father said you were his son—"

"-Not yet, Mr. Golden." Konrad Coetzes said. "Also, I'm sorry I interrupted you."

Fogham almost laughed.

He had been looking their new brother in the eye, so he knew that Conrad Coetzes was genuinely sorry for the incident. He interrupted Luo Jia, calling him Mr. Golden, and later apologized for it.

He didn't mean to. Fogham thought after laughing. He's so simple.

“...... My name is Loja, Loja Aurelian. ”

'Mr. Golden' said in a reluctant tone, "But, Conrad Coetze, you really are his son." ”

He was silent for a while, and then suddenly waved his arms sincerely: "If you are not, why are you so tall and powerful?" Your agility in jumping and moving in the night sky is not something that mortals can have! ”

“...... Why do you all use the word mortal? ”

Conrad Coetzes frowned, this was the first time he had shown such a look of displeasure and confusion: "I don't understand the way you use it—am I not mortal?" ”

"Of course you're not."

Fogham explained softly, and his attitude was very gentle, even so gentle that Ferrus on the side was a little surprised.

"You learned High Gothic without a teacher, you can see in the dark, you can ignore the cold, you can fight hunger...... And you're born knowing a lot of things, aren't you, Konrad Coetzes? ”

"Yes."

"Well, then, you're not mortal."

"But I'll get hurt."

Conrad Coetzes tilted his head. "I'm going to bleed — I'm going to hurt, that's a sign of being mortal, isn't it? It hurts to be hit by a laser gun, and it hurts to be hit by a bullet...... Won't you? ”

For a moment, Fogrem could barely answer.

He was silent, a sudden flash of astonishment on his near-perfect countenance. He lowered his head, and when he lifted it again, he had already changed his expression.

Now, he's serious.

"We will, brother." He whispered. "We're going to hurt."

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

"We live here." Konrad Coetzes said.

He raised his hand and pointed to the small rain filter above the shelter, with a vague joy on his face: "That's the rain filter, it can turn acid rain into drinkable water." ”

Roger Dorn stared in silence at the monstrous building in front of him, some of his insistence that made him reluctant to call this piece of rotten wood and iron sheets a house.

Then he asked, "Can I go in and have a look?" ”

"Of course!" Conrad Coetzes nodded. "But be careful when you enter the door, that door needs to be lifted up before it can be opened—oh, and please don't sit in that chair, it's Carlil's."

“...... I will. ”

Roger Dorn walked to the door, looked at the door, pinched the knob made of rusty, bent metal with two fingers, and slowly lifted it up.

Then he pushed it away, and saw an eerie darkness. It's not like a dwelling, it's like a prison.

However, darkness did not stop Roger Dorn's gaze, and he saw every corner without hindrance.

There is no décor in the house, no soft beds, and nothing that would make the place look a little presentable.

The walls are vibrating because the wind is blowing. There are several gaps in the ceiling, which means that it leaks when it rains.

It shelters neither the wind nor the rain.

Dorne looked silently at a corner covered in rags, then at a tattered chair.

It was clearly mortal in size, and Roger Dorn could tell at a glance that something was wrong with the chair - it was structurally unstable, so the person sitting on it had to straighten their backs to sit firmly.

This is not up to the standard for a chair, and there is also a plastic dinner plate on the chair with a black substance that exudes an eerie smell.

Roger Dorn took a deep breath and picked up the information he needed.

"That's food?"

He turned his head and asked Conrad Coetzes, who was being pulled by Vogrim to measure his size, his expression cramped, clearly unfit for such intimate contact.

And Fogham was just as uncomfortable when he was doing this, he kept pursing his lips and had a complicated expression.

"Yes, the balm, Carlil eats it regularly." Conrad Coetzes replied immediately.

“...... It doesn't have a lot of nutrients in it, and it tastes like chewing wax. ”

"Yes!" Conrad Coetzes nodded repeatedly. "That's what Carlil said, too."

“...... So, you're going to eat this? ”

"Ah, no!" Conrad Coetzes blinked. "I occasionally catch some rats to eat."

“...... Mouse? ”

"Yes."

Dorne saw that their new brother actually laughed proudly, and his smile was so clear that he almost gritted his teeth: "I know the way twenty-three rats cook!" ”

"Don't you have a normal order of food?" Ferus Manus asked in a low voice.

"Isn't this just normal food?" Conrad Coetzes replied puzzled.

“......”

Dorne lowered his head and didn't ask any more questions. He turned to the edge of the building and stared down at the scene below. After a while, he continued.

"What do other people eat?"

He asked briefly and calmly, and then added. "I mean, the gang members — the ones who are walking the streets up and down."

“......”

"Conrad?" Fogrem asked in a low voice. "What's wrong?"

“...... They eat meat. ”

Conrad Coetzes answered Donne's question in a deep voice that barely sounded like himself in this moment.

"Meat? What meat? Dorn asked.

He was calm, but his hands were clenched. Clearly, he had sensed the answer to the question—at least partially.

“...... Other people's meat. Conrad Coetzes said. Civilians, workers. But they don't eat their own, and they don't eat the nobles'. ”

Fogham's hand stopped—he was measuring the width of his shoulders, and it was a very simple job for him, and he had memorized a lot of data. However, at this moment, this data is scrambled.

His hand, which had always been steady, was even trembling faintly at the moment.

"The Emperor is above......" Lorga Aurelian muttered to herself. What is this place? ”

"Nostramo." Their pale brother said quietly. "Quintus, down nest."

Silent.

A great silence swept over again, easily knocking the giants down. No one resisted its authority, and dark purple clouds spread and rolled overhead. The foul smell escapes in the cold wind.

Lorga Aurelian began to recite the scriptures in a low voice. Ferus Manus folded his hands behind his back. Roger Dorn was as calm as ever, but his hands were clenched into fists.

Fogrem stopped the trembling of his fingers, calmly brushed his brother's shoulder, and patted him.

"Let's go on, shall we?" He asked softly.

"But, Fogg—"

"—Fogen."

"Mr. Fogen."

"No, sir."

"Fugen?"

"Yes, Conrad. Fogen. ”

"But I don't want new clothes."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to get my clothes dirty."

Fogrem heard his brother say this. "Blood makes clothes very heavy, and when they dry, they become hard. If you move, there will be a bloody scab falling from your clothes. If I wore clothes like yours, I would stain them. ”

“...... What if it gets dirty? Fogrem asked.

He didn't let himself sigh. He was afraid that he would misunderstand.

"Your clothes are beautiful."

Conrad turned his head and whispered. "Carlil told me that beautiful things usually mean precious, and precious things should be cherished, shouldn't they?"

"Yes." Fogrem smiled. "Precious things should indeed be cherished, yes...... So I'll make you one... Well, ordinary clothes, how? ”

"Normal?"

"Yes, it's the same as the clothes on you, it's black. But, it's waterproof – so it can also keep blood from soaking it. What do you think? ”

“...... Will it bother you? It's not good to trouble others, Carlil said. ”

"Of course not." Fogrem said. "It's just a small thing."

"That'...... Thank you? ”

Don't thank me.

Fogrem sighed and turned his head, meeting Ferus's gaze. At this moment, there was a similar emotion churning in the latter's eyes. They exchanged a few glances with each other, and then they understood what each other meant.

Luo Jia was still chanting, her face full of compassion. Roger Dorn turned and walked towards the sanctuary. He walked to the door, stopped, and bent down to pull out a chair that was too small for him.

"You can't sit in that chair, Roger Dorne." Conrad Coetzes said with a slight hesitation.

"I don't sit." Dorne said calmly. "I'm going to fix it."

"Fix it?"

"Yes."

Dorne nodded, lifting his chair up, his strength allowing him to do it with ease. However, he was careful with his posture in holding the chair.

"It's just a little bit of a structural problem, as long as there is more wood or metal, I can fix it."

“...... Well, there's a useless old-fashioned water purifier behind the shelter. ”

Conrad Coetzes blinked, puzzled. "It might be able to help you. But why do you want to fix it? ”

“...... Because I want to express my apologies. With his back to him, Roger Dorn said.

"Excuse me?" Conrad Coetzes asked blankly. And Fogham behind him was even more dazed than him, and even Luo Jia stopped chanting the scriptures and looked over.

Ferus raised an eyebrow slowly.

"Don't be surprised." Roger Dorn said with his back to them. "If you do something wrong or say the wrong thing, you should apologize. And the best way is to do something to make up for it. ”

"You've never done this before...... Vogrim whispered.

"That's because I haven't missed it before."

"Do you say that Magnus is a kind of spiritual paranoia when he reads books all day?"

"Yes."

Fogham finally burst out laughing.

He patted Conrad Coetzes on the shoulder: "This is Roger Dorn, Conrad. That's who he is. You don't yet know what his apology means. But, trust me, when we all meet each other, this will blow everyone's mind. ”

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

"Number seventeen."

"Number seventeen?"

"Yes, number seventeen." The pale giant nodded. "I'll number them."

Ferus Manus looked at the gargoyle.

They had jumped many times on the top of the spire and the building, and Ferus had seen many gargoyles. In his opinion, this one was no different from all the others.

"Number them in the order you see them?" Ferrus asked.

"Yes. But some gargoyles don't, and I don't want to number them. ”

"Why?"

Fogrem glanced at Ferus in surprise, not expecting him to be so interested in the question.

"Hmmm......"

Conrad Coetzes pondered for a moment and said, "Because, they should have their own name, not a number. I named the gargoyles because I don't know how to name them yet, but ......"

He frowned and paused, as if not knowing how to express himself.

Fortunately, Ferrus did not ask.

"That's true, if you value something, you should give it a name."

Fogham pursed his lips and smiled.

The giant known as 'Gorgon' gave him a blank look and continued. His voice was low, but powerful.

He asked, "You've been mentioning one person, Conrad. Karil Lohals, can you tell us a little bit about him? ”

Luo Jia looked at it sharply.

"Hmm......" the pale giant nodded thoughtfully. Yes, but I don't know where to start. ”

"What's his personality?" Ferrus asked.

“...... Yes? ”

"Has he ever lost his temper with you?"

"Nope." Conrad Coetzes said quickly. "Never—and he always apologizes to me."

He frowned.

"I don't like that." He whispered. "Whatever happened, whether it was his fault or not, he would apologize to me. I don't like that. ”

He looked up at Ferus, who was expressionless, but nodded, as if encouraging him to continue.

And then ...... He is very smart and patient, he will tell me a lot of things and know a lot of things...... However, he was pessimistic. ”

"He's pessimistic?" Roger Dorn repeated. "Why would you describe him like that?"

"I can't tell why."

Conrad Coetzes shook his head.

'Carlil was always pessimistic, he never said it, but I know what he thinks of Nostramo. I once told him that the world was sick, and he didn't contradict me, he was just laughing. ”

"From that moment on, I knew he was pessimistic. He laughed because he felt that there was no cure for Nostramo's illness...... He even wanted to burn the world with fire. ”

"But I can understand him."

"Workers in shantytowns who died on the side of the road because of lung disease chose to join gangs to eat people's children, and the meat sold in the butcher shop ...... Miner...... Aristocrat...... And those psychedelics......"

His voice began to grow deeper and softer, and by the end, it was almost like a dream.

"Those things hurt him. He never said it, but I could tell he was sad. ”

“......”

Silent, Ferus shook his head—he wasn't very good at words, and he was even more terrible than his brothers.

He is also well aware of his character, he is aggressive by nature and stubborn in will. But that was only an outward appearance, and only one of the many brothers could perceive his penchant for conquering difficulties.

The man called him Gorgon.

Ferus did not hate this nickname, and could even be called a little fond of it. He thought it was as suitable, as good as the warhammer that Fogham had given him.

And now—the steel Gorgon—raised his hand and patted Konrad Coetzes on the shoulder.

"You can see his pain." He whispered. "This is especially important, brother, keep it up."

His brother looked at him blankly—and after half a second, Ferus Manus smiled for the first time, and there was nothing but kindness in his smile.

Above the heads of the demigods, the night continued.