Blood flowed silently on the dry dirt floor, and in the evening orange light gently sprinkled around. There was no hysterical roar or a big fight, and at this junction, halfway through the road leading to the docks in Corry Conrad, there was silence except for the sound of rustling.

That's what death should be.

Human beings are always eager to create a heroic or magnificent end to their lives.

The dignitaries paid exorbitant prices, hired a large number of troubadours, made expensive coffins, and escorted their servants and children all the way to the burial, and even asked their concubines to commit suicide to accompany the burial. In the case of soldiers who put honor first, there is a common saying in many cultures: "It is an honor to die on the battlefield, but to die on the sickbed is to live with shame forever." The idea exists.

A life of glory must end with a bang—the more people who have achieved high status in human society, the stronger the idea will be when preparing for their funerals—but it is not death, Hamilton thought.

No matter how dazzling the meaning of human beings is given to it, even as it was when they were alive, they try to divide people's deaths into three or six or nine - death is death, it is calm and cold, tenacious and irresistible. Like the darkness that begins to consume everything from your limbs, the essence of death is the same, no matter how much you resist or try to change your perception of it.

'Do you want it to end like this?'

His nose and mouth were filled with blood coughed up from trauma to the lobes of his lungs, his chest was still aching with broken ribs, and his body was almost incapacitated, and he could only look at the short figures in the distance who were constantly repeating the movements of lifting and waving the tools in their hands.

The bodies of several long-lost humans were the targets of their slashing, and the not-so-sharp stone axes and clubs made the incisions looked like they had been torn apart—women and men, adults and children.

The clothes he wore were all ordinary and common civilian clothes, and his dead eyes were still staring blankly at the yellowing sky.

- Easy-to-get food.

This is what these things think of humans, Hamilton, who was already immobilized, thought as he watched the movements of the group of dwarf creatures.

Farming and animal husbandry, through the way humans established civilization, most people no longer need to go into the wilderness to risk hunting, they can get enough food.

This is the basic element of building a village, a city-state, and even a state, but such a "civilized" way of life, without going into the wilderness to fight, and ordinary civilians who have never seen blood all their lives raised on the grain obtained from planting and grazing, when they encounter wild animals that drink blood, the results are obvious.

Hamilton looked at the only places that could move around him, the corpses of some of those small creatures, with short sniffs but large tips, and long pointed ears that looked somewhat like elves, but in terms of habits, they were dirty and savage, but they were very different from noble and beautiful elves.

- The dead goblins were the result of a human counterattack, and the overwhelming superiority in their physique allowed Hamilton in the prime of life to easily crack the skulls of these gray-green skin creatures with a single club, leaving them with brains and blood flowing.

But he was a merchant rather than a warrior after all, and after losing a few of his companions, the goblins immediately became vigilant, and Hamilton, wielding a wooden club, wasted his precious physical strength in vain, and then when he finally felt tired and tried to catch his breath, he was caught in the gap and smashed directly in the back with a stone axe.

Hamilton, who fell to the ground, was hit by a chaotic but powerful slam of rudimentary stone axes and stone hammers - they finally had the advantage in numbers and fighting instincts, although the relative abundance of food allowed many humans to have tall and strong physiques, but without the right equipment and no knowledge of fighting skills, it was like a buffalo besieged by a pack of lions, and could only face death.

Consciousness began to gradually become blurred.

Hamilton struggled to keep his eyes open, trying to see the sights of the goblins that were walking towards him in the orange sunset.

The face of a human with disproportionate facial features was filled with a greedy look that closely resembled a human, which reminded Hamilton of several people he had met in his life.

'How different are we, who claim to be a civilized race, from these sub-humans whom we despise-?

The last of the thoughts flashed through him, accompanied by footsteps and human shouts coming from behind him, and before the world was completely engulfed in darkness, Hamilton could clearly see the look on that ugly face with disproportionate features, which was also very human-like—the same expression he had seen on the faces of his own family two hours earlier.

That's—

Fear.

"Qiang ——!" "Drink!!"

1.17 meters long, 1,200 grams, the oval grip is covered with tanned and stained black cowhide, and the counterweights at the end are shaped like the cork used in wine bottles, reflecting the orange sunset – it makes a straight and swift trajectory.

"Bang-click!" sawdust flew around, instinctively lifting the shoddy stone axe in his hand over the goblin overhead, and the "human" axe was cut in half.

Blood was overflowing, the knight's armor was bright and golden, and after slashing the sword, he immediately strode forward and stabbed forward with the sword in both hands.

The thin chest of the "Snatching ——!" was easily pierced by the sharp steel, and the leather boots covered in iron armor were heavily crushed on its stomach, kicking its dwarf, lifeless body several meters away.

"Garrison array!Andrey, Hussein, assault on the left!Bauer, McLean, Mikhail, check on the survivors!Kill these blasphemous inferior creatures!" The blonde knight looked like the most typical knight in the legend had come alive in reality, his multi-piece shoulder armor and small arms for easy movement were made of stainless steel, the hem of the long armed suit covered the thighs, and the knees and calves and iron armor extended to the top of the feet.

The white crest of the Church covered the upper part of the light red cloak, and the same emblem glittered on the front of the carefully polished breastplate.

"Karma Fasha!" There were more than thirty or forty goblins around, which was a common number of goblin groups, and these filthy, skinny creatures understood that they couldn't defeat humans alone, so they usually poured out to attack human caravans of no more than ten people. They uttered strange syllables that they didn't know if they had meaning, and noisily swung their stone axes and hammers at the knights.

The number of these humans is also small, only a few, and if you kill them, they can get more food, and even steel! Steel that can be used to make weapons! The low-intelligence goblins, driven by this visible benefit, did not run away, but instead screamed and used their numerical advantage again to surround the knights, and then tried to lure them into killing after exhausting their physical strength.

They were full of confidence, and with the idea that even if they sacrificed a few more, it would be no problem, and rushed forward in a mess. But the result is completely opposite to the previous time when facing the businessman.

Well-equipped and well-trained human warriors are vastly different from ordinary civilians in terms of combat effectiveness.

The standard longsword slashed down at great speed from all angles, easily slicing through all parts of their skulls and spine as they fell. Many goblins have already separated before they can react.

Covered in gray-green skin, their skinny arms and torsos flying down with blood and stench, sliced arteries spurting blood on every inch of nearby land - the mentally retarded goblins couldn't figure out a simple truth: if these humans had the metal weapons they coveted, they could easily slaughter themselves.

"Click!" sparks flew, and there was a small cut in the young cadet knight's blade. "Mikhail, don't cut the stones, the hands and sticks that cut them!" shouted the older knight behind him, and the white-blond-haired young man swallowed a mouthful of saliva and nodded.

"Kabra Fasha, Samasi!" the leader-looking goblin in front of him shouted, waving a stone axe bound with clubs and rattan in his hand and shouting threatening words, and the midshipman named Mikhail faced the opponent in a slightly lower and typical "plow" position with his sword in both hands - it was his first time on the battlefield, and he couldn't easily split through the bodies of his predecessors and kill them like his predecessors who had become accustomed to it all.

- Despite all this, Mikhail knew how to do it, and his years of training as a knight and his talent made him one of the best among his peers, and his outstanding performance in practice matches made Mikhail the first to become a cadet knight and acquire armor and weapons, which he was also extremely proud of.

But it was one thing to compete with a familiar companion with a wooden sword or even an unbladed round-pointed sword, and Mikhail hesitated to take a life with his own hands, even knowing that it was only a blasphemous savage inferior creature that was not even human.

The creed of the Church is good, although people in this world have original sin, but only through devout faith can cleanse themselves of their sins and ascend to heaven. This ubiquitous depiction of forgiveness is what Mikhail is most interested in - so can these guys also be forgiven?

The hesitation in his heart turned into indecision, which is why the sword that he was about to fall on the head of the opponent suddenly smashed on the axe of the stone axe - Mikhail wanted to disarm the opponent so that it could not resist and then persuaded him to surrender.

This is obviously a naïve idea that only young people who are not familiar with the world, and the probationary knight, who is in a textbook-like standard defensive posture, immediately realizes the consequences of his indecision in the next second.

"Samasi!" Judging by the pronunciation and expression, the goblin words that most likely meant something like "die" came out with a foul tone and spit, and the leader, who was slightly taller than the other goblins, brandished a stone axe and rushed towards the young knight who was undecided.

"Uh——!" Mikhail became distracted, reason and combat experience had taught him several ways to deal with it, but emotionally he was still reluctant to act.

"Bang-click!" The ever-changing battlefield could not tolerate any hesitation, and the young apprentice knight hurriedly followed his instincts to avoid the opponent's chaotic attacks, but he did not experience a one-on-one fair duel in the practice match, and when he turned around, he was immediately targeted by multiple goblins, and Mikhail, who was still hesitating and thinking about wanting to end it all without killing the other party, did not notice that several goblins were waving their weapons and rushing towards him.

"Nirlan!" A voice rang out behind him, and although it wasn't the young man's name or surname, he knew it was calling himself - Mikhail subconsciously turned his head, the title "Nierlan" was a slang term within the Order of Cathars, meaning "newcomer" or "rookie". As a kind of intimate name for the new young people in the seniors, Mikhail is quite familiar with it.

He hesitated and turned his head, then he felt a rush coming from one side.

"Snap-" The apprentice knight fell to the ground, and the older knight who pushed him away was greeted by the impact of several stone axes.

"Bang!" he decisively defended his defenseless front door, the metal was hit by the stone and made a loud sound, the knight clenched his teeth in pain, but under the effect of the armor, he was only slightly injured, and then he reacted with a sword in one hand, and the other hand pulled out the small sword at his waist and met the multiple enemies in a double sword posture.

"Nirlan, what are you thinking!" Another older official knight came over and grabbed Mikhail's arm and lifted him up: "Hurry up, don't hesitate!" His loud rebuke made the young man a little confused, Mikhail subconsciously explained: "But the church book says that the gods can forgive everything-"

"You're not in the church right now! look around, take a good look!" the knight shouted, followed by a group of screaming goblins.

"Around ......" Mikhail stood up and took a look.

Young woman with torn clothes and broken limbs. The internal organs were pulled out, and there were even traces of gnawing on the child.

The godless eyes that were still clearly visible near dusk seemed to be an accusation and trying to forgive the goblins—what did they come for?

Can you choose to forgive these beasts?

His hands trembled, and he clenched the standard sword with the emblem carved on the end.

Anger and hatred naturally overshadowed the original childish thoughts.

"I ought to forgive those who are devout and repentant, but I will lower the hammer and punish death for things that are no longer inhuman. He raised his sword, then gently pressed it against his forehead, and swung it forward as he whispered.

......

The armor is slightly deformed, and the weapon has some curls and chips.

Thirty or forty goblins, in front of well-trained church knights, had no ability to resist.

Dead bodies everywhere.

A few that weren't dead yet were all mended by the knights.

There were some minor injuries, but no one was killed. Mikhail, covered in blood, gasped for breath, he didn't know how many goblins he had killed, but when the dust had settled, he felt a little relieved.

"Hoo......" "Hey, Neerland, come on!" shouted from the side, Mikhail raised his head, and then reactively took what the other man had thrown at him.

A bamboo kettle, the aroma of wine comes through the cork.

"I don't drink, senior......" Mikhail said with a somewhat apologetic smile, while the other shook his head, sighed and said to him: "You will drink later, Nirlan, you will drink too." ”

He turned, and Mikhail looked back at the faces of the dead merchants as night approached nightfall.

“...... "He uncorked the bottle.

......

The burning torches crackled, the grease from the trees dripped and fell, and a group of knights were silent as they looked at the pale faces of the merchants in the shallow pits they had dug.

"Raven has sent the letter, and there is a mission ahead, but we need to go back first to resupply and repair the equipment. As he spoke, the chief knight turned around.

"Neerland, let's go. The knights turned back and shouted, "Ah, yes!" Mikhail answered, but paused for a moment, gesturing with a gesture of prayer to the humble graves.

"Boom—" The sound of metal clashing was accompanied by the sound of running, and the knights with torches hurried towards somewhere behind them. (To be continued.) )