Ur Persson noticed that his feet were shaking.

It's not a good thing, people always want to be brave all the time, they always want everything to be the best they can imagine. But the world is always cruel, and it will surely send a warning with certain signs at some point.

It will use it to show you that you are not brave, just as I am not good.

But what is the right of choice for people?

Desperately, Ur Persson reached out and grabbed the blade of the Spear of the Sun God, complying with Konstantin Valdo's request.

"Remembering the past is something you have to do." Standing opposite him, the marshal of the forbidden army said.

His dazzling gold armor was wet and full of viscous blood, which was spreading little by little along those gorgeous lines, dyeing the perfect gold little by little in the seemingly natural patterns.

The whole process is very natural, as it should be. They weren't created for this purpose, but they've evolved over the course of a long period of killing.

However, in stark contrast to this bloody and aesthetic scene, Waldo's expression was calm, even so calm that he couldn't tell that he had just experienced a grand killing.

This look caused Adbiman Basley, who was crouching above them, to squint his eyes slightly, and slowly revealed a somewhat wicked smile.

"You really don't know how to speak, and even we don't use it very often in such a commanding and persecutive tone as Lord Constantin Valdo."

The adjutant of the Nightblade's third company chuckled, as if he was laughing at Valdo. The huge demon head he was crouching on was burning, but the pitch-black flames didn't hurt him even a bit.

"Words are pale, and actions often have more meaning than words." The marshal of the Forbidden Army replied calmly, without looking at the adjutant. "So hold it, hold it tight, Ur Pesson."

Orr looked up and threw a dry look at Adebeeman. The latter shrugged and jumped lightly from the demon's head.

It was not yet dead, and the spirits of the subspace were being punished in the dark flames of fury, and the screams of wailing were incessant, but no one present found the sound noisy.

Who would hate the screams of the enemy? There is no excess of kindness for those present, regardless of how far the war has worn down their humanity. Even if they really wanted to give what little kindness they had left, they wouldn't give it to the demons.

Orr turned his head to look at the thing, his throat rolling up and down.

He lived for a long time, and although most of his memories had dissipated into the deep scars of time, he still remembered something.

For example, the existence of the inanimate, these things come from the waves of chaos, and are born with a twisted form and an equally twisted life. They are almost immortal, and can only be killed in a few cases.

Orr had known some methods and practiced some of them, and now he had added a completely new piece of knowledge—of course, it wasn't the only new knowledge he had left in his head today.

From the moment the eerie ghosts of the Eighth Legion moved with him through the fog, some new but increasingly unsettling knowledge began to rush into his mind.

In a shattered and chaotic stream of time, he follows the Nightblades as he hunts down the scattered company of the Whisperers, watching them fight and then win or die. The former is almost equal to the number of occurrences of the latter, and Orr is shocked by this.

In his opinion, these Astartes of the Eighth Army are already strong to the point of inhumanity. Their prowess at creating bloody murders is almost the best in the galaxy, but the level of depravity of the Bearers is comparable to theirs.

Undoubtedly, such a description is strange, comparing a depraved and twisted traitor with an army completely loyal to the Empire and humanity, but Orr remembers and sees many things.

In other words, he had a vague sense of what the Nightblades were hiding beneath the skin.

He was not surprised by this, after all, this was his Eighth Legion. He knew that person and knew how bottomless he could be when necessary.

Then there was the encounter that Konstantin Valdo had just ended that brought him to Ol-Pesson, and it is difficult to say that it was a coincidence, at least not that Ol-Ur himself did not consider it a coincidence.

Rewind the clock to a few decades ago, back to when Orr was still joining the army in order to have a piece of his own land, as early as that era, he had already heard of these golden-armored guards around the 'emperor'.

People walked the streets spreading the news about them and the emperor, but most of those who actually met them chose to keep their mouths shut, as if they wanted to store that glory in their hearts forever in silence.

Only a few good deeds like to proclaim loudly the prestige of the forbidden army and the emperor in the streets of the city, as if they had really seen them with their own eyes.

Orr had heard the stories of some of them, if not for anything but out of curiosity. He left when he heard the 'Golden Guard', and judged that the content of the stories was actually half-truths, standard charlatans' techniques, telling only half the truth.

And if he is allowed to evaluate, then, in his opinion, the emperor smiled at a certain artist, and this kind of thing of a certain soldier is absolutely fake, but the golden guard. Ha, this is true nine times out of ten.

At that time, he felt that the person he knew was still eternal. He also wondered how a person's love for a certain color could span so many years.

But now, when he saw Konstantin Valdo with his own eyes, he realized that they were much more than just so-called 'guardians'.

Each of them was his eyes, his mouthpiece, his outstretched hands and feet. They hold the blade as he holds the blade, and when they kill, they kill as if he were killing.

That is, he is looking at him.

Ur Pesson took a slow, deep breath, then let go of his hand in Waldo's icy gaze as if it was about to kill him, letting his fingers slip naturally off the tip of the spear.

His battle glove had long since been thrown into an unknown puddle of stinking mud, but his right hand was unharmed, as if the one-of-a-kind weapon knew when it was supposed to hurt him.

Orr naturally captures this, and therefore has the urge to sigh even more.

"No, I refuse." Earl Pesson said. "Unless he comes and talks to me in person."

"He's busy." The Forbidden Army flatly refused. "You understand his busyness, Ur Pesson, and as much as I spurn your betrayal, you are one of the few people in Terra who can truly understand him at this moment. So stop behaving so naively. ”

"I'm too lazy to refute your 'childish' opinion, but I've never understood him." The man who had once been side by side with the emperor spoke slowly. "It's like I still don't understand what this gem is."

He fished it out of his chest with his left hand, and it was quietly restrained and hung around his neck by a rough metal chain, the weight of which had already cut Orr's neck with deep blood marks, and it looked terrifying, as if he was going to be decapitated by this weight in the next second.

Orr lifted it and tapped the gem lightly with his fingers. Valdo glared at him.

A nonchalant smirk slowly appeared on the veteran's face: "Let's get down to business, okay?" Master Constantin Valdo? ”

The marshal of the forbidden army bowed his head coldly.

"You see, he asked me to give this gem to 'him', so the question is, who is 'he'?" Where is he? ”

Orr deliberately exhaled the sigh that had been kept in his chest, deliberately arousing Waldo's disgust.

You'd love that—pretend, Orr thought with a sneer, and said the following.

"I'm not unaware, and I know how critical Terra's situation really is right now. So, let's all be honest with both sides, my lord, and I'll be honest. ”

"If I were to fight for humanity and die here, and make this my final destination, I would be very honored. After all, this is my home planet, and there is no one who does not want to be buried on earth in their hometown. But I'm not going to fight for him again unless he explains it all to me. ”

He retracted his smile and looked up solemnly, meeting Waldo's eyes. His gaze was terrifyingly piercing, as if he wanted to gaze at another person through the eyes.

"Everything." He said softly. "Everything, nothing is hidden. That's my only condition. ”

Valdo looked at him steadily.

Adbiman Basli whistled: "I'm so flattered to hear so many secrets unexpectedly—then, good luck, Company Commander El Pesson, I have something to do." ”

He blinked, and the black flame in his eyes suddenly rose, and the false smile turned into a genuine and terrifying smile after a brief pause. So Orr knew that the killers of this group of killers, the assassins of the assassins, had another group of targets to kill.

But will you be able to kill it?

Orr suddenly wanted to ask him this, so he really asked, "How long are you going to do this?" ”

The adjutant raised an eyebrow in slight surprise and glanced at him. He turned his head again to look at Constantine Valdo, and after seeing the very obvious musings of the Janissal Marshal, Adbeaman curled the corners of his mouth, walked over to Ur Pesson, and put his arms on his back affectionately.

"Alright, Brother Company Commander." He whispered and even used the word brother. "You're to the point, but I can't answer you because we don't know the answer to it."

"But you might."

"Shhhhhhh "There are some things that are not necessary to say too much, white space is a very important literary skill, haven't you read our published poetry collection? It's a collection of poems co-branded with the ravens. ”

Orr shook his head.

"And what about the book from our exclusive narrator, Bellos von Sharp?" Adebeeman asked happily.

Orr nodded.

"Ha, I knew you had seen it—anyway, take care of your own business, and if we're all lucky, maybe you'll see us again when you hide in the darkness somewhere in the future and shiver."

He laughed, let go of his hand, and pushed Olpesson in front of Konstantin Valdo, who happened to raise his head.

The fog roared and swept in, enveloping the Nightblades in an instant, and the gloomy lightning flashed away, and by the time the fog had cleared, they were completely gone. All that was left was the corpses of the demons still being burned, and the souls of the living being tried in the black flames.

Orr didn't have time to observe the scene anymore, for Constantin Valdo had already grabbed him and pierced his chest with the Helix's spear. At this moment, his eyes were pure gold.

Orr spat out an ancient curse at him, meaning coward.

'Constantin Waldo' also answered him in the same ancient language.

"Oranius." He sighed calmly. "What the hell do you want to know?"

——

Drifting, as if naked and returning to the arms of his mother.

It's been a long time since Olaniz felt this way, sad to say, but it's also commonplace, he has long forgotten his mother's face. His memories were shattered into millions of disparate fragments, unconnected to each other, but of the same origin.

They are all the roles that a man has ever played in human history, potter, soldier, lumberjack, priest, teacher. The professions he has held, the lives he has experienced are innumerable, and in the immeasurable long time, his mind has not grown in any way.

In myths and legends, the wise men who have lived for a long time always serve as the guiding protagonists, they are gray-haired, but their faces are young, their eyes are full of vitality, and they are always able to speak surprising words and have a sense of humor.

But Oraniz was not that kind of person, he was a cynical, drifter, suffering from a long life and a broken mind, always going back and forth between being confused and wanting to do something.

However, in the beginning, he was not such a person. He had been just as ambitious, wanting to use his eternal life to do something for humanity – or rather, for himself.

Until he met him, until they burned the Tower of Babel

And so everything began to crumble, whether it was friendship, trust, or anything else, all of them were nothing.

"You ruined me!" Oraniz heard one of his own side scream. "You burned everything I hold dear, how can you try to master that power?!"

"There is no point in rehashing the old thing." The Eternals replied coldly. "If you're just here to vent your anger on me, to try to put a soothing to this resentment that has lasted for tens of thousands of years—"

"-No."

Ur Pesson coughed and rose from the darkness.

"Nope."

He said forcefully, shoving his side, his name, and the fragments of the chaos back and forth into his heart, like squeezing the barrel back and forth with the strip of a flintlock pistol, pressing lead bullets and gunpowder into it.

He did it, and although it wasn't easy, he did.

He's fired tens of thousands of flintlock pistols.

"I'm not fucking here to ask you for an explanation, I'm not a chattering idiot or a country wretch. What's more, you bastard will never think you've made a mistake. Orr said. I don't care why you always try to keep anything a secret, and your bad personality is not due to me, and I am not your person, I don't care. I came to you for one thing, only for one thing. ”

After he said this, he shook his head in a trance. The Spear of the Sun God was still having an effect on him, and the embryonic nature of this weapon began a long time ago. As soon as Orr saw it, he recognized it. Frankly, he was actually a little surprised, because he didn't expect it

"You're really." Ur Pesson lowered his head and began to vomit. "How did you make it?"

"A little bit of whimsy, and tens of thousands of years of trial and error." So said the Eternal. "The former is far more important than the latter."

Orr looked up and wiped his mouth. His tongue was numb, as if what he had just spit out was not undigested food and stomach acid, but poison.

He coughed again, only to feel that the world was turned upside down, but fortunately he was still able to stand up and not fall to his knees in his vomit. Orr braced himself on his knees, bent over, and began to gasp for air.

"Gems." He asked inarticulately. "Who do you want me to give it to?"

"I can't say."

"What the fuck—"

"—it's not because of secrecy, or because I don't think you have the qualifications to know." The Eternals interrupted him to himself, and continued. "Until the dust settles, all the answers are meaningless. Even if I tell you, the answer may change at the last second. But you need to carry it with you until then, Oranius. ”

Ur Person didn't speak, just straightened up slowly, and pulled the metal chain around his neck so that the Eternals could see the deep bloodstains.

"Your new friend, the one named Machado."

"What's wrong with him?"

"He has a task for me."

"That's true." The Eternals bowed slightly. "But that's not your priority, you have something else to do before you join them."

A sneer appeared on Ur Pesson's face: "It's strange that you are now willing to explain what you need me to do in just a few words. ”

"Isn't that what you're asking for?" The Eternals asked rhetorically. "Or do you still feel like it's not enough? What else could you ask for? ”

Orr shook his head slowly.

"Nope." He said. "Probably so."

"So-"

"—no, I have one last question." Opezon interrupted him suddenly. "I want you to tell me all of this. Do you really understand what you're doing? ”

There was no answer, only Konstantin Valdo's calm eyes and his outstretched right hand.

"It's time for us to go." The Marshal of the Forbidden Army said, with a rare tiredness in his voice. "We still have a long way to go."

He was right.

This chapter is 5k, and there is another chapter after a meal. Voting will close before twelve o'clock tonight.,Considering that there are people who want to see it outside the three.,I'll postpone it according to the number of votes.,All three are written.。

After all, it's almost the New Year ()

(End of chapter)