High Above

Chapter 695 This time, we will not lose! (6600, first update)

She is an ordinary mountain girl, born in a medium-sized tribe, with parents who occasionally quarrel but are generally harmonious, and a younger brother who always bickers with her, but is obedient even after bickering.

She grew up in an environment that was neither strict nor relaxed. She learned family crafts such as weaving ropes with reeds and raising fish and shrimps in reed ponds. She got to know peers from several surrounding families, and together they Play, work together, and grow up like this.

She met her husband on a soft sunny afternoon. It was a sunny autumn. The forest by the lake was dyed with a layer of light yellow, reflecting the sunlight as bright as gold. Those blue eyes seemed to be able to speak instantly. That made her stop the grass-cutting sickle in her hand, and he also stood there blankly, looking at the mistress with her light silver eyes, and then smiled shyly.

They became familiar. He was the son of a herb gatherer. He invited her to dance at the Winter Mountain Closing Festival, and she agreed without hesitation. In the spring of the next year, they became a family and soon had a child, who inherited the blue color of his father. Her eyes are bright and moist, she often giggles, she is so cute.

These are her happiest days. Her son is growing up, and she has another child in her belly. Although her husband works hard, he always brings back a pot of flowers for him when he comes back from collecting herbs. Although the stone hut is simple, it is It was extremely warm, and the backyard behind the house was filled with colorful colors. When she stood in the backyard with many flowers surrounding her, he praised it as the most beautiful scenery in the mountains.

On the day of their second pregnancy, they planted a fifty-year-old orchid in the center of the backyard. This flower with blue flowers has a long lifespan, but its growth rate is very slow. It takes ten years from rooting to sprouting. Months of time are exactly when the child is born.

He told her that if it was a boy, then children would have no shortage of flowers to chase girls in the future. And if it is a girl, she will have the best and most beautiful flower crown to wear when she gets married, and she will definitely not be inferior to any chief's daughter.

She didn't speak, just leaned on his shoulder, happily gazing at the fifty-year-old orchid that had just been planted, as if gazing at the happiness in the long future, full of hope.

But a food disaster occurred. What followed was war.

——A group of mountain people launched a rebellion under the influence of Feiyandi. We must stop these fanatics from destroying our home and tradition, and desecrating our faith and glory!

——We must pick up our swords and guns, we must draw our bows and arrows, to defend our homes and our loved ones!

This is what the chief said. The originally peaceful and even somewhat honest chief roared loudly, and his voice echoed in the mountains. No one can refute, and no one can refuse, because they did not initiate the war, they just passively fought it.

The chief took many people away, including him.

In the backyard of the stone house, the fifty-year-old orchid is growing slowly. It is expanding its root system, absorbing nutrients from the earth and rain, and the flowers are blooming as time goes by.

But she seemed to have been drained of energy. Her heart was restless, full of doubts and fears. She gradually became haggard, but she forced herself to eat a lot of food for the sake of the child in her belly. She felt like chewing wax, but she was still strong. Stuff it into your mouth and swallow like a machine.

Bad news came one after another. Their side was retreating steadily, many people died, and most of the tribes were won over or conquered by the independent mountain people. Only those along the coast and lakes, according to the imperial people, That is to say, the mountain people in the Frodo Autonomous Region are still resisting.

Why resist? Why did I think it was best not to resist? Sometimes she would think about this problem, and then the extreme panic would make her stop thinking for a short time, unable to continue this train of thought.

But the truth is cold and indifferent, but the reality is cruel and ruthless. One cloudy afternoon, she waited for the day, the day when her worst premonitions came true, and a wooden coffin was brought back.

What a blessing. There were too many human corpses left. The bombardment of alchemy artillery could shatter not only city walls and fortresses, but also human skeletons and corpses. The power of firearms was also enough to tear flesh and blood, break bones, and deform the corpses to the extent of those closest to him. Unrecognizable either.

This is lucky. She walked out of the stone hut tremblingly. She saw her husband's parents wailing and throwing themselves on the wooden coffin. The simple coffin lid was opened, and inside was a mostly intact but bloody corpse. The pair of blue eyes The eyes have begun to rot, and gray crystal mist fills the eye sockets.

She knelt on the ground and crawled toward the coffin. She didn't remember whether she cried or how she got back to bed. She only knew that the coffin was buried the next day, and he would never come back.

Another half month passed, and the chief came back with news of victory.

But in addition, he brought back many people who had lost limbs and parts of their bodies.

The news of victory could not wash away this bleak situation. Some disabled soldiers often appeared on the streets of the tribe. They were walking in the streets in fear, as if someone would shoot from the corner at any time, they would suddenly scream, and they would shut themselves down. Inside the house, they would shed tears and tremble in front of the sun.

Where did they end up like this? What kind of blow did they encounter that caused them to be so devastated?

If this is victory, then what exactly is victory?

In the tribe, only the relatives and friends of the victims were crying, while others were living their lives as usual, even a little festive.

victory. victory……

She chewed the word. She couldn't understand the word. Where did she win? If those mountain people who want independence win, will all of them die? yes. Maybe, maybe it might be crueler than death, but how can we celebrate such a victory now?

She hated it. She hated those who came back alive. Regardless of whether they were disabled or not, they waited until the day of victory and returned to their hometown alive.

She hated it. She hated the dragon god messenger that the chief called her. Why didn't the legendary heroic successor take action earlier and bring victory to save him earlier?

She hated it. She hated the independent mountain people, hated the Flying Flame Land, hated the empire and all the big figures whose names she didn't know who were hiding behind the war. What exactly did these people destroy? Do they really understand it?

But they may not care at all, they don't care at all what the consequences of their actions will be, they don't care that there will be a widow, a mother, and more people hating them.

yes. That's it. Hating that nothing can be done. Her brother and her husband's brother came to her to comfort her. They went to war together but survived. They knelt down to her. The two men told her with tears in their eyes that her husband was brave and fearless in order to protect a group of people. He was a warrior of the tribe and died fighting while supporting an outflanking force.

They swore to the Dragon God, the ancestors and the spirits of heaven and earth that they would protect her, her children, the blood of their brothers, and the chief bore witness.

This has been very lucky. Occasionally, such thoughts would appear in her mind. She still had relatives and children, she also had family and friends. He died like a hero. After crying, she should praise his bravery. This is what mountain people do. Tradition.

Not to mention, I am not the most miserable one... There are other things more tragic than a widow like her - the mother lost her only son, the father lost the son he had raised through hard work, and those young warriors even lost their lives when they died. There was no heir yet, and their parents were in tears without even any comfort.

She held the hand of her four-year-old eldest son, caressed her swollen belly, looked into his innocent blue eyes, felt the slightly shaking heartbeat in her belly, and the pain in her heart subsided slightly.

But this kind of comfort is like a gust of wind blowing in the heart, blowing the broken heart pierced by thorns from the devastated earth, floating lightly in the air, temporarily leaving the source of pain.

But soon, this fluttering heart will fall back to the earth again, and will be penetrated by pain again.

Those pains are not direct death, but a silence in the kitchen, a gentle breeze as if caressing, a look into a pair of similar eyes, and memories that suddenly rise up in the middle of the night - like a volcanic eruption , uncontrollable beautiful memories mixed with exploding pain came to my heart, and then came the confusion that was almost desperate.

She will understand, she has already understood, what does the pain of others have to do with her? No one can understand other people, and no one can really use other people's pain to cover up their own sorrow.

She often dreamed that her husband came back with scars, and they still made pies as before. He kneaded the dough and she peeled the shrimps. The house was filled with the smell of baking wheat cakes, and the children laughed happily, waiting for the hot shrimps. Meatloaf is served.

But now, when she gets up every day and sees the morning light, it seems as if the sun is going out.

The chief was talking about something, the chief was instigating something. The chief convinced many people, including her parents, so she left her hometown with the chief and went to the distant holy land, the canyon around the Holy Mountain of Steel.

This is not a long time, but many mountain people will never leave the sphere of influence of their tribes or the mountains where they live throughout their lives. On this day, mountain people from all directions gathered, and they were bustling, Raising their heads in piety and awe, they looked at the top of the Holy Mountain. Under the clouds, the Dragon God's sacrificial fire shone brighter than the sun, but did not hurt people's eyes. They looked at the remains of the tower that was calling for thunder to fall. And the white-haired messenger standing on top of the wreckage.

That is the Dragon God Messenger, who has the stories of his predecessors in the legends of the past, and his current reputation in today's wars.

He was the one who brought victory, and just because of his presence, all the mountain people held their breath and silence fell in the valley.

She gently held her child's hand, led her child, quietly raised her head, and looked at the figure that was slightly invisible, but did give everyone a clear sense of presence, and a row of towering figures Iron knights stood on both sides of the road leading to the top of the mountain. The brilliance of lightning flowed from the magnetic storm generator, which echoed with the thunder flowing in the sky filled with clouds.

[I am not here to tell you about a victory worth celebrating, but to tell you about the coming suffering and cold winter]

And a voice, calm, clear, and young, gave people a sense of majesty. He went straight to the topic without any nonsense, and his tone was as plain as a narrative: [The civil war among the mountain people does not originate from the hatred among ourselves, but from the hatred between ourselves. It originates from the war between the empire and Feiyandi. As long as the war between the two countries continues, we will not be able to get peace. Feiyandi will use us as a weapon that affects Nanling and continue to attack us]

[The question is, why did Feiyandi choose us? 】

He paused for a while, and then told the truth: [Because we mountain people do have enough capital for Feiyandi to spend our time and energy on planning]

[Because we have a large population—so as long as we don’t have enough food, we will fall into chaos]

[Flying Flame Land does not need to worry about letting those traitors win. They only need to let these traitors delay our request for help from the outside world. In this winter when food is scarce, many people will starve to death, and the remaining people will become The refugees left the mountains wailing and attacked the agate stone plain, completely disrupting Nanling]

[Because we do have power - behind me, this burning dragon god's sacrificial fire, with the power of this magnificent holy land, I called for thunder and defeated the three construct knights]

【But what if there is no me? What if I fail? Then the power of the Holy Land, the power of our mountain people, will be stolen by the fanatics from the Flying Flame Land, and in what blasphemous ways will they use the legacy left by our ancestors? We can’t imagine it, but it’s definitely the worst nightmare]

The mountain people listened to this voice. They held their breath and listened quietly to the words of the messenger who brought victory in this solemn atmosphere.

And he continued: [Because if we are united, then no one can ignore - the reason why Feiyandi tried so hard to bewitch those traitors, is it really for the good of us mountain people, to make us 'independent'? Big mistake! 】

[They knew from the beginning that this conspiracy would not succeed and the traitors would inevitably fail. However, with this civil war, Feiyandi tore apart the tough yet fragile relationship between the tribes! 】

[Some of us have killed the friends of others, the husbands and wives of others, the sons or daughters of others - the sorrow called death and the separation called farewell Anger fills our hearts. After this civil war, we mountain people can no longer be as united as before]

[After this civil war, we mountain people can no longer return to our past glory, restore the glory of the Dragon Kingdom, and revitalize ourselves! 】

[Because our hands are stained with the blood of our compatriots, the gap between us is already full of hatred and despair! 】

[We mountain people, from now on, will become independent tribes that are divided among the mountains and will never interact with each other until death! 】

The messenger's voice became louder and louder, and the loud response shook the mountains, and even turned into layers of roars and questions: "Do you want this ending?" 】

[My answer is, absolutely! 】

--no way……

--no way.

--no way! ! !

Many people in the crowd seemed to be awakened from a dream. They raised their hands and shouted, repeating the cry of 'never' - and a moment later, a roar like a mountain roar and a tsunami resounded through the mountains, boiling. The anger, the awakening after being reminded of the truth, and the unwillingness and hatred originating from the heart, and the unwillingness to let the enemy achieve their goals, supported the crowd's roaring at the top of their lungs.

The messenger of the Dragon God raised his hand and pointed to the sky - there, the clouds in the sky were pushed away layer by layer, and the fiery sun hung down from the big hole between the clouds with a visible light pillar, which shrouded the holy mountain. The top of the sky shines on the remains of the thunder tower.

Shine upon the white-haired messenger.

[Compatriots, listen to me! 】

His voice was like thunder, shaking away the clouds: [The reason why we are caught in the flames of war is not because we are weak, but because we are strong! 】

[It’s just because of the two hundred years of sinking that we have forgotten our own strength, so we are used by others and hurt ourselves! 】

[Yeah - our civilization has fallen, we lost to the empire and became one of them, this is war, we have already lost once, there is nothing to be ashamed of - but more importantly, we cannot Keep losing until we no longer exist]

[We still have the capital to revive. Look, our sacred mountain of steel! It is towering and solid, standing among these lofty mountains. It is sacred and solemn. Its power can still protect us mountain people, and it can also guide us towards glory again]

[Compatriots, please listen to me - the current situation of our mountain people is just like the collapsed tower at the top of the mountain. It once stood tall and erected on the top of the mountain, blooming with brilliance better than the sun, with the most powerful posture Defeated an almost invincible enemy...and then it overturned and became a ruin before my eyes]

[However, if the tower collapses, we can rebuild it! It is full of scars, and you can slowly repair them and make up for the healing! 】

[I will lead you to do all this, I will rebuild the tower, and I will lead the mountain people to glory again! 】

[Yes, we will face more ferocious and terrifying enemies in the future. We will face more cunning and despicable villains. They will be afraid of our strength, our numbers and our unity. They will block our pace of revival. hindering our efforts to rebuild the tower]

[But this time, we will share the same hatred and fight against their machinations! 】

[This time - compatriots! 】

【We will not lose! 】

"We won't lose!" "We won't lose!" "We won't lose!"

Because of the sunshine, the warm atmosphere, and the anger caused by thousands of people, the air became hot. Even the cold winter air at the beginning of the year was heated by the white air rising from the crowd.

A widow and a mother felt that her brain was lacking oxygen. She raised her head blankly and looked at the young man at the top of the mountain.

The young man who is announcing the future and the beginning of another war...

Unlike those who were caught in a frenzy, she felt an icy cold sweep over her.

——Under the lofty goal, there must be bones buried; beside the passionate declaration, there must be sacrifices.

Glory and death, merit and war... It may only take a few battles to revive a tribe, but it takes several wars to revive the civilization of the mountain people.

Because she felt dizzy and fearful of such a future, she staggered back and almost fell. If the child hadn't held her hand tightly, she would have fallen... while the surrounding mountain people fell into excitement, So didn't notice this.

She won't believe appearances. She has lost a lot. Her heart had long been torn apart by pain, so she could more clearly feel the cruelty of the future, rather than the superficial sublimity of the grand narrative.

But.

She also understood very clearly...if it weren't for the Dragon God envoy in front of her, what awaited the mountain people would definitely be a "despair" dozens or hundreds of times more cruel than such a cruel future.

If you just care about the happiness of your own family, you are destined to be unable to change such a desperate ending. If you just fantasize about "being alone", you are destined to be swallowed up by the tide of the times.

——What should we do?

How many times do ordinary people like me have to go through life and death before they can see the so-called 'brilliance'?

"Mom, don't cry..."

The child's tender voice brought back her thoughts. She wiped the corner of her eyes and found that she had already burst into tears, while other mountain people around her were roaring feverishly, 'We will not lose! ’ The sound resounded throughout the world.

It's a good day. The messenger of the Dragon God is indeed genuine. He has the strength and courage to lead the mountain people to the future in his heart.

But not everyone is like that.

She wanted to cry, but she was too out of place. Amidst the cheers of the people, she lost the power to cry.

She wanted to curse, but she was too ignorant. She knew very well that this war was not the messenger's fault, and she lost the courage to curse.

If only she were really lonely and helpless, then she could seek death.

But the child, her child was right next to her, holding her hand, eating the biscuits handed out by the tribe in small bites, and her father's blue eyes looked worriedly at herself who was crying just now.

The child didn't understand anything. He was wearing shabby clothes and looking sideways at the Holy Mountain from time to time.

He will be surrounded by fanatical crowds, he will be taught by the tribe, and he will eventually become like his father.

Someone who is brave, fearless, full of glory, charges into battle for the tribe, and then dies somewhere.

——Dragon God. Messenger.

——Whoever it is, please tell me.

——How can we stay away from these pains and how can we keep a little happiness around us?

She closed her eyes, knelt on the ground, folded her hands, and prayed in the direction of the Holy Mountain.

Among the cheers of the mountain people, there are roars, roars, joyful smiles, and confused prayers.

Ian looked down at it all calmly, taking in everything in sight.

——The strong one is the evil one.

Because in the face of the will of the strong, the weak can only be swept away and swept towards the future that the strong hopes for.

he knows. He is not the chosen one who can bring about a perfect ending.

he knows. He will protect some mountain people from reaching the future, and will also let some mountain people die on the way to the future.

he knows. He has seen a lot, from the Ryan Territory to the Imperial Capital, from the Awak Territory back to the Baisen Mountains, the young man has seen too much suffering, setbacks and tragedies.

He still remembered those phantoms in Azure City, those crying souls and bloodstains, those rotting corpses and the people who once had dreams.

Ian has always known that in the general trend of social civilization cycle, human individuals will always be as homeless and at a loss as they are now, just like those parents who have lost their children and children who have lost their parents, just like those who have lost their husbands. Wives and husbands who have lost their wives will sink into irreversible despair and grief throughout their lives and will never recover.

war. War never changes.

The all-out war between the Flying Flame Land and the Empire is imminent, and has even begun. No one can escape.

If you want to break this cycle, you have to recreate the world and the human world.

And such a new world will inevitably be born only in the most extreme pain and destruction.

"I have never experienced pain..."

Ian looked around at the thousands of people in front of him: "I can't imagine heaven."

He stared at these mountain people who were extraordinarily cohesive and easily inspired by a civil war and victory, and whispered to himself: "If you haven't lost anything, you won't want to hold on to anything."

“Because I’ve witnessed tragedy, I wanted to create a happy ending.”

"Mountain people...fortunately or unfortunately, you meet this condition."

"So it can be used for me."

Whispering like this, Ian felt that he might be a devil who was taking advantage of people's pain and urgent desire to accomplish what he wanted to accomplish.

But if it is for your own goals...

Then the devil will be the devil.

"I will become the most terrifying devil in the world, using your desires and dreams to shape a new world."

There may be a second update later. Today was supposed to be a big chapter, but I didn’t finish it.

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