Despair, what is it like?

Rolf felt that he knew the answer to that question. Pen, fun, and www.biquge.info

The throat was crushed and torn by the barmaid of the Brotherhood (who didn't know Yala's name yet), as if it had been five minutes before.

And after that, he seemed to be suffering from that pain all the time.

Blood pours down the throat and into the lungs.

Severe pain is transmitted from the throat to the brain.

Even the airways are blocked.

Unable to speak.

Inability to breathe.

Unable to move.

He was like a badly wounded and dying wild dog, discarded haphazardly on the streets of Red Square.

Whether he died of pain, suffocation, or choking, he would die soon.

Only in his childhood, the experience of wandering in the Comas Alliance, forced by the desire to survive, urged him to survive.

Again and again, he, the one who harnessed the wind, used his power again and again, squeezing like a sponge, pressing the air full of dust, blood, and filth into his lungs from his cracked throat.

Then he exhaled and squeezed out another wound on his neck.

Call.

Suck.

Call.

Suck.

Every "breath" is accompanied by inhuman pain, like going back and forth between the prison river and the world.

He's probably the first person to survive with his abilities—Rolf thought sadly.

Rolf felt like a wild dog scavenging for garbage in the gutter.

The bartender was gone.

The green skin is gone.

Several teams of thugs passed by his mortally wounded and dying body.

A spy turned him over and tested his nose and mouth.

A shocking explosion reached his ears.

Rolf didn't care.

He just instinctively, mouthful after mouthful, "breathe" with his abilities in excruciating pain.

Until dawn.

Until Noumino, who retreated in a panic, carried his "corpse".

Noumino, the country hunter by turn, and the recognized coward of the Twelve Supremes, Rolf had never looked down on him, mocking, humiliating, and bullying him in the gang, and even more so as an amateur amusement for the ghosts of the wind.

The most ironic thing is that it was actually this coward who spurned himself, who "collected the body" for himself at the last moment.

Rolf was woken up by a sharp pain in his legs.

With his hands tightly tied, he opened his eyes in the morgue of the Alert Hall.

Then I saw Nekra.

The head of the eight cadres of the Blood Vial Gang (he didn't know that five had already been lost in Red Square Street) was the "Red Viper" Nekla.

But Nekra just stared at him with a complicated expression, shaking his head in disgust and hideousness.

"You're one of the few survivors of the Blood Vials. "The red pit viper is secluded.

Rolf struggled to make a sound, endured the sharp pain in his throat, but could only make a meaningless "ho-ho" sound.

Sharp pain in the knee hit!

Below the knee, but unconscious.

"Look at you, Rolf, the strongest of the Twelve Supremes, the only super-level master. ”

"The good, the proud, the arrogant, the promising - the ghost of the wind, Rolf. ”

"I am proudly and proudly recommended by Lord Catherine to the Wizard of Qi, a young man with infinite scenery. ”

The red pit viper patted his face gently, again and again, with complexity and disgust in his eyes, and said sarcastically:

"Now he is lying here like a corpse, unable to speak, unable to breathe, unable to move, unable to eat. ”

"Why are you still alive?"

The red pit viper's eyebrows were furrowed, and his face became ugly and crazy.

"Why did you survive, not Xx, Song, Spin or Dorno, and why did you, Catherine's people survive, not mine?"

Rolf's eyes were wide open, and he struggled in anger and pain, but the double pain and mutilation prevented him from moving.

The red pit viper restrained its anger and laughed out loud, happy, and sickly.

"The Blood Vials have suffered heavy losses, and my forces have suffered a lot," he said softly, "and if I have all the personnel, maybe Catherine will be able to step on me as a result, I can't say." ”

But Nekla's expression darkened.

"But how can a ghost with the wind who can't speak, has no legs, and is badly injured and dying, serve her?"

"So," Neokra said, holding out his hand, his face twisted and pinching Rolf's knee, the wound that had been forcibly burned by the flames to stop the bleeding!

"You might as well die in battle and go missing!"

"Woo-" Rolf closed his eyes in severe pain, struggling with his body, which was unable to move from his severe injuries, not to break free, but to relieve a little of the sharp pain in his knees.

The wind ability he relied on to "breathe" was almost interrupted!

"I'm in a bad mood today, tidying up and hitting a wall everywhere," Niekra sighed and continued, "But I think it's still nice to get rid of you and cut off a genius that Catherine likes." ”

Looking at the resentment, pain, and rage in Rolf's eyes, Nekra showed apology and helplessness, and said with a smile:

"There's no way, 'they' specify a super-level master, and they also emphasize that they must leave their wrists to take blood, otherwise, in fact, what I want to cut off is your hand instead of your leg. ”

He patted Rolf on the face one last and whispered in his ear, "I wish you and the vampires a good time." ”

Nekla's footsteps went away, and two of the Blood Vial Gang thugs walked up, one of them picking up a three-inch copper needle with a tube, and the other grabbing Rolf's feeble wrist.

At that moment, Rolf felt a deep sense of despair.

――――――――――――――――――

Tails looked at Rolf dumbfounded.

He had the urge to ask him what happened to Yara, what was the outcome of their battle?Did Yara escape?Why did Rolf become like this?Wasn't he from the Blood Vials?

But Tails hesitated.

Because he saw Rolf at this moment.

I saw this legless man with a blank gaze and could only express his emotions with meaningless shouts, and his eyes were mixed with despair, pain, remorse and sorrow.

He still remembers Rolf last night.

Frivolous, confident, arrogant, and extraordinary.

Come and go in the endless wind, leaving behind your signature laughter.

And now?

"Woo-woo-" Rolf began to close his eyes again, moaning in pain.

The once casual, venomous, and unscrupulous ghost with the wind is no more.

His lips were blue and dry, and he was visibly dehydrated, but Tails couldn't find water, and he wasn't sure if he could swallow in Rolf's condition.

Tails didn't even know how he breathed.

The traverser just sat to the side in a daze, looking at the painful and struggling Rolf.

In the second year of his journey, a beggar broke her legs at Quaid, and the poor girl wailed all night before she died.

Tails was still ignorant, only a few memories were retrieved, and he was horrified and terrified by the horror of reality, so he could only hide in the hole in the wall and shiver.

So, in his sleep, dimly, he listened to the girl wail for a night.

It seems to be like now.

Later, he didn't think about why he didn't have more courage to end the pain for that girl at that time.

Tails looked at Rolf's inhuman appearance, and his heart sank.

No one deserves such torture, no matter how great the guilt is committed, he said to himself.

After all, the traverser sighed, crawled to Rolf's side, and said softly:

"Rolf. ”

"Midila Rolf. ”

Although his mind had gradually faded, at that moment, Rolf's eyes were still instinctively focused.

Who is it?

Who will remember me?

Such a waste man waiting to die?

Tails gently pulled out JC's dagger and slowly pressed it against Rolf's neck.

"I know that you are in pain right now, enduring torture and suffering that ordinary people cannot imagine. ”

"And I can end your life and help you get out of it all. ”

Rolf's breathing through his throat and abilities suddenly became chaotic.

Torture.

Torture.

Extrication?

"But I must ask you, Middlea Rolf, in all seriousness and caution, will you let me be relieved of your pain?"

"Blink your eyelids if you want to. ”

"If you don't want to—"

"I only asked this once. ”

Tails grimaced, waiting for Rolf's reaction.

In the dimness, Rolf stared at the blurred silhouette of the boy in front of him.

Extrication.

Rolf felt a sharp pain from his throat to his knees, and with every "breath", he was tearing open the wound in his throat, and every time he struggled, he would break his knee.

He was thirsty, hungry, cold, miserable, and most terrible, despair.

He remembered the feeling of the wind fluttering around him, the first time he killed with his powers, the first time he joined a gang, the first time he received a reward from above, the first time he became a man in the body of that thin girl, and the first time he had seen the Wizard of Qi on his first pilgrimage.

He remembered the fearful gaze of his enemies, the obedient eyes of his companions, the appreciative expression of "her", and the pride and satisfaction that turned up the corners of his mouth when he heard the whispers of the "Twelve Supremes."

That's what it used to be.

And he has lost, forever, all of this.

Isn't it?

In the next moment, Rolf's gaze was determined, and he tried his best to drive the greatly reduced ability, and "inhaled" a sharp "inhale" for the half-crippled body.

Then, the ghost of the wind trembled, and with all his strength, fighting against the pain of rubbing the locks on both sides, he raised his head and looked at Tails earnestly.

He was ready to wink.

A blink is enough.

One time!

So Tails saw that Rolf's upper and lower eyelids twitched, trembled, and slowly closed towards the middle.

Tails sighed inwardly and slowly clenched the dagger in his hand.

But Rolf's eyelids, however, only trembled, stopped at the midline of the eye.

Missed the last line and did not close.

Long.

Long.

The ghost of the former wind, a familiar or unfamiliar scene flashed before his eyes, barren fields, dirty dirt roads, wild dogs, and flies.

It was when he was a child, in the countryside of the Comas Alliance, struggling to survive.

That time, he and a pack of wild dogs grabbed a piece of black bread that was almost eaten by a pile of flies.

Those wild dogs are so fierce—in the dungeon, Rolf thought quietly.

Their deafening roar, their relentless bite, their frantic force, and yet - Rolf subconsciously licked his upper teeth.

That bread tastes terrible.

Tails' eyes, Rolf's face, trembled and twisted.

His eyelids slowly relaxed, opening and returning to their previous angles.

"Boom!"

In the midst of the two locks, Rolf's barely managed to prop up his head fell violently in a deflated manner, smashing the back of his head to the ground.

He didn't blink his eyelids after all.

Tails exhaled silently and slowly lowered the dagger in his hand.

But Rolf was oblivious to the pain in the back of his head and the scratches on his cheeks.

I saw that his distorted face began to shake slightly along with his head.

"Woo-woo-woo-"

It's not moaning.

Tails couldn't help but be stunned.

He saw Rolf close his eyes in pain, his face trembling, and let the clear liquid slip from his eyes.

"Woo-"

The voice is depressing and sad.

He was crying.

The Ghost of the Wind, this once powerful and glorious Psychic Being, a man, a warrior.

He was actually weeping and crying.

I don't know if it's for my cowardice or the pain of the moment.

Like an ordinary person, a normal person, or even a little weak little citizen.

Overwhelmed.

Crying.

Tails could only watch stunned.

Looking at this man, who could not speak and breathe normally, after giving up the chance of relief, fell to the ground and cried fiercely.

Tails looked away gloomily, but the dagger in his hand became tighter and tighter.

Nsola, Ned, Kellett.

The beggars who died in the sixth room, who didn't even have their surnames, appeared in front of him one by one.

He thought about his situation, thought about Gilbert and Yodl.

The traverser frowned, and then looked down at his hand, the newly cut wound on it, as if it were just hot and burning on his body.

At that moment, it seemed that something fell in the bottom of his heart.

Tails leaned close to Rolf's ear for the second time.

"I see. ”

He said softly.

Rolf was still crying uncontrollably.

"So, are you willing to break free from this shackle?"

Rolf's crying paused for a moment, but grew smaller.

Tails saw the little girl with a broken leg wailing, and almost every child who had died in the abandoned house in the past four years.

Screams and wails were heard from outside the cell.

This fucking world.

The traverser didn't know what was in the dungeon, but he looked at Rolf's gaze, which became simpler and clearer.

Then, the traverser looked earnestly at the ghost who could no longer rise with the wind, and continued categorically:

"Break free from this shackle, and then, with this broken body, struggle in this world and survive. ”

"Look how brutal it can be. ”

"Would you like to?"

Rolf stopped crying.

He couldn't move his head, so he could only turn his gaze and look at the boy next to him in a daze.

Just listen to the boy, word by word:

"Maybe it's not freedom. ”

"Maybe it's a big deal, and you might even die right away. ”

"And I'm just for myself. ”

Tails lowered his head and said slowly:

"But I can try, give you a chance to get out of this shackle and struggle again. ”

"Would you like to?"

Rolf's eyes stared at the boy's.

Although there were still tears in his eyes, at this moment, he suddenly wanted to laugh in his heart.

He seemed to feel the pain in his throat and knees gradually numb.

Those wild dogs.

The wild dogs who snatched bread from him.

The fate of those wild dogs—Rolf's encouragement to "breathe" with some inexplicable happiness in his heart—their fate:

It's miserable.

Rolf, who was lying on the ground, raised his eyes trembling again and looked at Tails steadily.

The next moment, the ghost of the wind slowly, but clearly.

Blinked.

Everyone blinks countless times in their lives.

Unremarkable.

But just now, Rolf may have blinked, the most important time of his life.

Rolf slowly lowered his head.

Tails smiled, dispelling the gloom in his heart a lot, and the traverser nodded briskly:

"Okay, I see. ”

―――――――――――――――――――

"I originally thought that His Highness had woken up in advance. ”

"But that doesn't seem to be the case now. ”

On the third floor of the Manor, in a dimly lit room, Chris frowned.

On the front of him is a brown and black stone coffin connected to countless blood vessels, with complex patterns and huge volumes, a person tall, three meters wide, and six meters long.

At this moment, there was constant vibration in the giant coffin.

"I tried to connect with His Highness's consciousness, and the feedback was still chaotic, only hunger and thirst and killing instincts - no matter how much you appease and communicate, it will be the same!" Chris let go of a vein in his hand, his face growing heavier and heavier.

"If this continues, His Highness will only use up the remaining energy and blood in advance!"

Luo Lana's face was shocked, and the red-haired blood clan said nervously: "There must be something that has stimulated His Highness, but we obviously didn't do anything!"

Chris's eyes flashed, without the same dead silence and dryness as before, and the old man said decisively: "It's not us!"

"Your Highness only had this reaction five minutes ago, then—"

Seeing that Chris's face changed, and he suddenly turned around when he remembered something, and said loudly to Eastron, who had a solemn face behind him:

"That cub!"

"We can smell the scent of his blood from two floors, and even more so with His Highness's sense of smell - what about the cub?"

Easteron, who was uncertain, looked at Chris, who looked excited, and subconsciously replied:

"He just seemed to have accidentally cut himself, and then he pulled out the half-crippled super-level blood vessel, and said some strange things, I didn't listen carefully, and then he-"

The expressionless Chris did not listen to Easteron's explanation—the suspicious coffin continued to vibrate and muffle—and the old man interrupted Isttron rudely and directly:

"Bring that cub up—no, Isa, you stay here and let Lolana go. ”

Looking at the giant coffin that shook more and more frequently, an abnormal spark flashed in Chris's eyes: "What His Highness desires is his blood." ”

――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

"It's a risky plan," Tails said calmly to Rolf on the ground, as if he had returned to the sixth room, doing everything in his power to protect the innocent, innocent, innocent beggars, who were born to languish in the river of hell.

"But it's obviously even more unwise to sit here and wait for a miracle and get caught. ”

Rolf just looked at the boy in silence, his eyes were obviously different, and he laboriously "inhaled" a breath of air.

His serious look - Rolf smiled in his heart: "No worse than the eldest sister's head."

The Ghost of the Wind didn't realize that he was relieved after the choice between life and death.

Tails continued to elaborate calmly, as if it were not himself who spoke:

"I don't know how much strength you have left, but I don't expect a lot, and that old man's strength-"

"Therefore, reckless risk-taking and passive waiting are not suitable for the current situation. The best and best time for us is to wait for my reinforcements to arrive, the moment they break down the door—"

"You can't wait for reinforcements, bare cub. ”

An indifferent female voice interrupted Tails.

Rolf's face instantly tightened.

Tails was stunned for a moment, and in disbelief, turned his head to look at the cell door.

Outside the fence, Lolana Corleone, dressed in a playful riding costume, seductively scraped her lips with her slender and feminine right index finger, and at the same time grabbed the lock of the cell door with her left hand, which turned into a terrifying claw!

"Easteron said, whatever you do, we can hear you. ”

"Teasing the little gentleman of Eastron," as if to mock him, Lolana chuckled, swaying her seductive slender waist, step by step, from the open door, into the cell with grace and sensuality: "It's a pity, maybe if you are a few years older, even people will be confused by you." ”

"But now, you're about to turn into a mellow, full-bodied rechargeable drink for Your Highness - maybe the lovely Lorana can still take a sip?"

Looking at Lorana, who suddenly appeared at any moment, Tails understood that she could subdue him at any time.

The traverser sighed deeply, sincerely, and regretfully.

"Rolf," he said lightly, no hint of panic in his voice, "I need ten seconds." ”

Ten seconds?

Lorana suddenly felt uneasy.

She remembered Eastron, who had been fooled.

What other hole cards could he have? The half-crippled, super-level short-lived species trapped in the Nightwing Stone Lock?

But Lolana, who has a lot of eyes, is reluctant to take risks, and her expression becomes fierce and decisive in an instant.

A little ghost who is a fool.

Her seductive figure flashed in front of Tails' eyes in an instant!

When His Highness sucks you into a dried corpse, you can-

But at this moment, a strange gust of wind swept up in the small cell!

"Whew!"

The firelight swayed rapidly, and it was a few times gone!

The wind pushed Lolana three steps backwards, and in her surprise, she quickly grabbed the fence at her side and stood still.

Is this - ability?

No way, this kid can't be a paranormal.

That's—Lolana struggled to look at Tails' side, the super-level master locked to the ground by the Nightwing Stone—it was him!

It's all like this, and there is still some strength left.

It's useless, Lolana breathed a sigh of relief, and happily thought, how long can you last if you are locked up like this and seriously injured, even if it is your ability?

It's the cub who plays tricks...... I'll try it later, and I'll try it first

You're going to be impressed!!, Lolana thought viciously.

"Well, let's get started. ”

Tails looked at Lolana, who was hindered by the wind in front of him, and turned the dagger upside down with a serene expression.

Ten.

He grasped the tip of the blade with his intact right hand in Rolf's puzzled eyes.

Nine.

"Good luck to each other. He said.

Eight.

Mine, the first magic experiment.

Seven.

Begin.

Six.

Tails stared at the black stone shackles on Rolf's body.

Rolf blushed and stared at Lorana as the wind continued.

Lorana grimaced the fence at her side, her left hand beginning to deform, turning into a terrifying crimson claw.

Five.

I'm going to break his shackles—Tails thought silently.

Rescue this man who has nothing left.

Four.

If it is really as I expected, the traverser recalls pictures of life and death in his mind:

Quaid's hand was on his neck.

Ashida's hand clenched gently.

Also, the blood in the distant memory, and the gentle middle two disease that can't be named.

Three.

Tails gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and slammed his right hand into the metal lock!

Scorching heat hits the metal.

But he gritted his teeth and endured.

Lolana felt something.

She turned her head in surprise and found that the fence she was holding on to was shaking!

What's going on?, the Female Bloodclan thought in a panic.

That half-crippled guy - is it a multi-ability?

Two.

"Uhhh

The fence shattered into countless small pieces with Rolana's hand!

Lolana, who was unsteady, clutched the severance in her arm and screamed, and was instantly blown out of the dungeon by the wind created by the ability.

One.

In my ears, there was a sharp and crazy roar of Lolana.

The hot sensation hits.

Zero.

Light - thought the confused Tails.

Lots of light.

――――――――――――――――――――――

In the room where the giant coffin was parked on the third floor, Chris suddenly looked strange.

"What is Lolana doing here?" he said coldly, looking at the muffled coffin.

"Perhaps she would like to try her mouth first," replied Easteron cautiously, sensing the grown's nervousness, and continued, "She's always had a good deal with the food in her hand—no! they're—"

Eastron's words were interrupted by the outside world with the stunned expressions of the two of them.

"Boom!"

Just listen to the direction of the underground, there is a loud sound like a burst!

In the direction outside the door, a cloud of dust was slammed in.

The expressions of the two blood clansmen, one old and one young, changed in unison, and they exchanged glances with each other.

Something happened in the dungeon.

The next moment, their figures appeared outside the manor!

Easteron opened his mouth in horror and frustration the moment he saw what he saw.

See, under the moonlight.

The one with a tattoo on his face and no legs.

Once a ghost with the wind, Midira Rolf.

Already freed from all shackles.

He was clinging to the short-lived cub, and by the strong wind, his face was resolute -

Fly in mid-air.

―――――――――――――――――――

Not far away, on the horse, Gilbert, who was riding at a speed with thirty finishing swordsmen, changed his expression!

"Blood Lamp. In the galloping wind, he whispered to the court lady beside him.

Ginny, who was jolting on the horse, saw the lamp in Gilbert's arms with a solemn face.

The flare turns red.

Sideways.

"In that direction—" Gilbert recalled, his expression solemn:

"It's the Cavendier family's vineyard manor!"

The court lady roared angrily and whipped her mount.

"Whoever he is!"

"Even if it's Exeter's Walton family in front—"

"--Kill it too!"

Kilbert nodded, resolute and fierce on his face:

"All of you turn with me!"

"Don't worry about horsepower!"

"Speed up!"

"Prepare for battle!"

――――――――――――――――――

If this book still has your appetite, you may wish to collect it, vote for a recommendation, support new authors, and support niche fantasy texts outside of monster fighting.

If you have any comments or questions, please come to the book review area for guidance or join the group to discuss. ――bySwordless with a serious face