The wind blowing from the Grigley Crack blows through the treetops of the black pines of Ekka.

The sun shone down on the newly cultivated land, and in the golden glow, the people lying on both sides of the clearing, their lips bloodless, seemed to have just slept.

The sky was a clear pale blue, and it was a sunny day with no clouds.

Even in winter, the climate in the depths of the Acasta Plains is warm and pleasant.

On a day like this, it's quite appropriate to say goodbye to your old friends.

The wind continued to blow, not too violent.

As we have mentioned, burial is a form of funeral that is a choice that people who believe in the White Religion will make after they die. But what we don't make clear at the time is that it was originally evangelized for the purpose of "purification."

In addition to religious factors, a large part of this cleansing is aimed at improving the hygienic environment.

For a long time, the Church was the only person in the world who possessed knowledge, and the level of education and technology was far more advanced than that of ordinary peasants or even a king, and they were the first to use new objects such as candles, glass, and clocks.

To get back to the point, after the two days of the battle, the total number of Arvenela soldiers who died in the battle was 1,672.

Among them, the noble knights and knightly officers and sergeants lost a total of 931 casualties, and the rest were civilian archers who were supposed to stay in the rear but bravely rushed forward.

Considering that the battle lasted only one night, this statistic can be said to be extremely staggering. It is a true reflection of the determination of the warriors of Wavasika to hold back the other side from entering the fortress and the fierceness of the battle.

With a gentle breeze, soldiers unloading their weapons and armor picked up shovels and dug hard into the fields that were supposed to be used to cultivate tea trees.

Edward and Henry stood a little higher and looked at it from a distance, behind them were Mira and Minna, the blonde girl had some wear and tear on the skin at the corners of her eyes because she wiped too many tears, she and the white-haired Lorian Lori held hands tightly, and some traces of sadness could still be seen on their faces, but the girl had stopped whimpering and stood in place with her chest up.

Bernie is obviously quite successful as a father, and with a man like him as a role model, Minna has always been extraordinarily strong.

When she dared to fight with a sword against Sivalier's elite soldiers, she showed the girl's amazing decisiveness and courage, and now, she can hold back her grief and cheer up, which is really admired by most people.

The wind clinging to the wall to Vavasika's left brought the scent of fresh trees, and Edward turned his head to look at Henry, the expression on the sage's face as calm as ever.

His Royal Highness hesitated for a moment, he was not sure whether it was polite to ask the question, Henry noticed the other party's desire to speak, and then nodded slightly.

“...... Mr. Edward paused.

"Sir must have seen the parting many times. He weighed his words, as if he were worried about touching the scar on Henry's heart. The sage nodded, he understood why the prince had mentioned this, but his face was as calm as ever.

"If you keep losing all the time, will you be able to get used to grief?" asked Edward, his diction leaning towards Sivalier-esque romance, so it sounded like a song or a verse.

But the question is sincere and unpretentious.

And the person who inquired was perhaps the only one in the world who was qualified to answer - for the one-sided information about Henry's past that Edward knew alone was enough to conclude that this is true:

No one knows the meaning of the word lost better than him.

Perhaps the deliberate words still evoked the sage's memories, and Edward responded worriedly to Henry's brief silence, but the latter quickly smiled with a hint of bitterness.

"I won't get used to it. ”

"Never. The tall black-haired sage raised his head again and looked at the clear sky.

The slightly heavier topic blew into the distance with the current, and Edward said no more about it, and when the rows of huge potholes had been dug and the bodies of the fallen soldiers were placed in order, His Royal Highness walked forward.

"They died for Avenella. Edward spoke, but after only one sentence he stopped.

The prince didn't seem to know what to say, but just stood there and hung his head.

Silence lingers in the clearing to the south of the city.

Panting soldiers, shovels on their shoulders, straightened their backs despite their fatigue. Many of them still had wounds on their bodies, some of them even oozing blood from their movements, but no one could stop them from digging the graves of their dead companions.

"Because that's all we can do for them. The sergeant, who had only one arm left, gritted his teeth and said word by word.

No one could stop them, not even Prince Edward himself.

This is not to be seen in Sivalier—nay, in any other kingdom on the West Coast, I am afraid.

Ever since that day Edward had made a loud proclamation and led his army to defeat the invaders of Sivalier, the whole of Avenella had become a sturdy rope of twine—and in just a few months the national pride had risen to such an apt level, and all but a few of them were now proud to be the people of Avenella.

And this is especially true of the place where everything originated, the place where the Yavenela Declaration was first published.

For the first time, the knights and sergeants discovered that there was so much to learn from these civilians, and that Edward and Charles's army were truly acting as one.

In the space of these months, they became real brothers.

The noble cavalry and the plebeian archers no longer have the distinction between high and low. At least under the banner of Edward and Charles, all of Avenella's soldiers were just soldiers.

It's just a soldier who is proud of this identity from the bottom of his heart.

If people from other West Coast countries came to Vavasika now, he would be surprised by the atmosphere.

Proud of their companions, trusting this group from the bottom of their hearts, the commoners trusted the nobles who needed to look up to them, and the nobles no longer put on any shelf, but dined with them, trained together, communicated together, and learned from each other.

The seed that Edward had sown a few months ago had now sprouted, and perhaps one day it would grow to the point where it would cover all of Avenella.

His Royal Highness the Prince, who was silent, thought so.

'A kingdom where there are no barriers between men. ’

How desirable it should be. ’

The silence of the "......" continued, and many of the soldiers gritted their teeth, but not because the prince could not say anything touching - for they felt the same feeling, and any words would seem to pale in comparison, and it was too difficult to say something in such a situation.

"Hiss-" The sound of deep air breathing came and went, and these exhausted men with wounds on their bodies could not say a word in the face of the enemy's fierce attack, but at this moment, many people standing next to the corpses of their dead comrades couldn't help but have red eyes.

No one can blame or ridicule them for being vulnerable.

Because the man who was lying on the ground and turned into a cold corpse was still drinking ale with him two days ago, and happily chatting about the trivial matters of the family.

The knight, who excitedly told everyone that he was going to be a father, drank with the soldiers after the training that day, and for the first time, he was drunk and showed his childish side.

The dream is to be able to own a piece of his own land here and then take his family to live with the simple sergeant, and the honest smile that he has always had still lingers on his face.

Everyone here has their own story, and if you ask the soldiers who straighten their backs but can't hold back their tears, they will tell you them one by one.

Tell you that these amazing warriors have never disappointed anyone, and it is for this reason that they are forever absent from our lives.

The wind is still blowing.

Such bloody sacrifices will not be uncommon in the future. Edward's eyes seemed to see the distant future through the dense Ekka Pines—the sky was clear, but the reflection in the prince's eyes was dark clouds.

Sivalier, now Padrosi.

No one can be provoked by Yavenella, the country is extremely weak and almost bullied - they managed to turn the tide in the last game, but this time?

The more than a thousand cold corpses lying on the ground seemed to be a silent indictment of His Royal Highness's powerlessness as a royal family - but what saddened Edward most was the almost pointlessness of their sacrifice. These great warriors fought to their deaths against a far more powerful enemy, but they had no intention of capturing Vawasika from the start.

Glory and bravery could not hide the fact that they were in fact the victims of the wipes of the vast empire across the strait—that Avenella was too weak to protect even her own people.

Padrossi's plot has not yet surfaced, and there must have been some purpose in their attack on Vavasika.

Edward, with his head bowed, thought so, but even if they knew the purpose, what could they do - the kingdom was at the mercy of Padrosi's iron hooves.

It has to change, it all has to change, but it has to survive before it changes......

The weight of the mountains had turned the nails of the blonde prince's clenched fists and nails white with the exertion of the weight, and his father, the king of Arvenella, was obsessed with fighting for the throne of Sivalier, and the rest of his brothers were more concerned about whether they would be kings than whether the country would still exist.

He was alone in Avenella.

Despair gripped Edward, a feeling that had not dissipated since he learned that his attacker was a Padrossi.

"Snap ......" Someone tapped him on the left shoulder, and the prince turned his head, and Henry looked at him calmly.

"I'll help you. The sage's words were as simple as ever, but they gave him great confidence. Edward nodded earnestly, then stepped forward, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, took half a minute to adjust his mood, and then continued.

He didn't intend to say anything about the blood-boiling truth, he just said it word by word.

In the language of Avenella, the eulogy was uttered that would become the funeral practice of the country's military in the future.

-- It is a quote from Lawrence, the poet of Avenella, the only poet who insisted on writing in Avenella.

"We will grow old, but they will not. ”

"They no longer worry about age, they don't worry about age, they don't suffer condemnation anymore. ”

"Regardless of sunrise or sunset. ”

"We will remember them. ”

The wind continues to blow.

Everyone, including the prince, bowed deeply to those who had gone with the wind, and the soldiers raised their shovels, and the earth gradually covered their countenances.

Melodious music sounded in the distance.

Avenella used their way to bid farewell to their distant relatives and friends.

......

Postscript: The last verse of this chapter is not original, but is a quote from the English poet Robert Lawrence's "Confessions", and I like this passage engraved on the wooden plaque of SAS, because I think it is in many ways a reminiscence of the soldiers for their fallen comrades. I also hope that this chapter has captured this emotion so that you can feel it.