savior epic

Chapter 133 The Last of Life

The beast on the man's chest was still tight.

The memorial service for the tavern keeper's son was over, they rose, and the tavern keeper invited him in for a beer.

"No, I came out by myself." The man said.

The boss's face was slightly surprised, but only slightly, he sighed and said: "Then I can only advise you to go back earlier."

The man didn't answer, but limped out with a cane on his hands.

During the days of wandering in the desert, he had broken his calf, so he got used to this way of walking quickly.

As he walked out of the church, the sense of life passing by recurred in his mind, and the man immediately realized that his time was numbered.

So he turned his head and waved goodbye to his boss.

The man's breathing began to become faster and faster every time. He stood still and tried to take a deep breath, finally relieving the feeling.

"It's time to go back, I've been out for too long." The man murmured.

He turned a corner, the place was dimly lit and so narrow that it could barely accommodate one person.

The man's footsteps were gentle, worried that he would breathe faster if he went too fast, and the candlestick around his waist was tied firmly.

Behind him, a black figure cautiously approached him.

A small hand aimed at the rusty candlestick and quickly leaned over.

Snapped.

The man turned around quickly and grabbed the child's wrist tightly.

He grew up stealing bread, and he is still very familiar with it after many years.

"You want to steal something?" The man stared straight at the child.

The boy was stared at like a lion, and he trembled.

"Sir." For some reason, the boy could only nod in front of this fierce man.

"Why?" The man's voice was low and it sounded like a roar.

The boy was dumbfounded, not knowing how to speak.

The man stared at him fiercely, his brows were furrowed, and his beast-like pupils were trembling.

This seems to be torture, but the man is not only torturing the boy, but also torturing Alan Biyin, and even torturing the man himself.

The child would not know that the man in front of him was even more panicked in the depths of his soul than he was.

"Why?" The man's tone was fierce.

The child was clever and almost cried: "I just think it's fun, I just think it's fun, I want that candlestick."

The ex-consul froze for a moment.

The man's overwhelmed mood instantly calmed down.

"You said, it's just for fun, nothing else?" The man's tone was much softer.

The child couldn't understand why the man was so vicious just now, but now he calmed down, he just nodded obediently, and said again and again: "Yes, sir, I'm sorry, sir, the Lord will bless you, sir."

"Not because of hunger, not because of poverty, not because of sickness and urgent need for money, not because of any pain or misery?" the man confirmed again.

"No. Just for fun. I'm sorry, sir, I was wrong." The boy said with the utmost seriousness.

The man breathed a sigh of relief.

"I will let you go, but you have to remember" the man let go of his hand, and the child's wrist was red.

"Remember, remember what." The child asked in fear.

He raised his fingers and made a ring salute to the child. He was so weak that his arms were trembling at the end, and he put his fingertips on the child's forehead.

"From now on, the Lord saves your soul."

After he said this,
Suddenly feel life slack down.

The beast crawled down and closed its eyes peacefully.

So, the man turned around, leaned on his crutches, knocked on the ground again and again, and left without looking back.

When the man struggled to climb behind the window of the utility room, he was panting uncontrollably.

He never imagined that he would be so weak that his body was no different from that of an old man.

The man leaned against the wall to rest for a while, how did he walk out before, and how did he walk back now.

When he grabbed the handrail of the stairs and walked up to the floor where the room was located, it almost took all his strength.

The man walked back to the door of the ward and pushed open the wooden door.

Cassel was actually standing by the hospital bed.

They were surprised to see each other.

"Why are you back?" The man was the first to respond.

"I have an inexplicable premonition, like the Lord's guidance." Cassel walked over and helped the man with the broken leg onto the hospital bed.

After the man lay on it, he untied the candlestick from his belt and held it in his hands.

"Cassell, you know what, I went out for a while."

Cassel nodded and said, "I didn't panic at all when I saw no one here. I had a hunch you were just out for a while."

"Your hunch is surprisingly accurate," the man said.

"Maybe only this time, what did you go to see?"

The man raised his face and stared at Cassel, his eyelids were weak and took a little effort to hold them up: "Many, many I went to see a mother and baby, citizens in the tavern, memorial service for the younger son old people and children who stole from me."

"Lord, he dared to steal from a consul." Kassel finished speaking, correcting his wording with a smile, "Former consul."

"It doesn't matter that he stole from me." After thinking about it, the man smiled.

"You laughed. I always thought you were not used to laughing," Cassel said.

After knowing each other for so many years, men often show others with a serious face.

"Because I need to be serious most of the time." The man said with a restrained smile.

Cassel thought for a while and asked, "You said that's not important, so what's important?"

What is important.
The man thought about it carefully, and couldn't express it for a while, so he could only say: "I don't know."

"Oh, that's boring."

"Yes, many things are boring." The man couldn't help closing his eyes.

He felt drowsy from his fingertips, wanting to fall asleep.

But when he thought of something, he suddenly woke up again, supporting his body with his hands.

After sleeping and waking up, the man was even weaker.

"I said, Cassel, I'm dying."

Cassel's expression froze.

The new consul forced a smile on his face and said helplessly, "I"

Before he finished speaking, the man interrupted him and said forcefully: "You don't need to call a doctor or a priest, you have to accept it."

Cassel could only nod, but didn't know what to say.

It was the man who spoke first.

"At the end of life, let's talk about poetry."

Cassel looked at him.

"Are you still writing that long poem?" the man asked.

"Yes, it has been delayed for a while, but now, everything is fine, the whole kingdom is in chaos, and we are preparing for action." Cassel said.

Then, he was a little surprised and said: "I didn't know you knew poetry."

"Yes, I don't understand, but let's talk about it. The poem to Ellenbyn."

Cassel straightened, and he drew the chair closer, even closer.

"Let's talk, then," Cassel said, "beginning."

"Yes, at the beginning, how did you write it?" The man's tone was calm.

"The beginning of a poem is like a woman's eyebrows and eyes, which can catch people's heart the most." Cassel said briskly.

"I can understand the metaphor, but I want to hear the original text more." The man said helplessly.

"Okay," Cassell cleared his throat, "'This poem begins with a doomed uprising.'"

"not bad."

"why?"

"It's different from what others wrote." The man said simply.

Cassel was a little helpless.

The man raised his hand, grabbed the candlestick tightly, coughed, his head was a little dizzy, and said, "Go on."

"Next, I wrote about the uprising. I haven't finished writing this poem, so I will stop here."

"Yes, that failed uprising, we lived through it."

"There is you, there is Kassel, there is Colvin, and there is Keke." At this point, Kassel hesitated.

"And Myron," the man paused, "We can't use the present to deny him."

"Well, there must be an image, give Myron an image, maybe everyone should have one." Cassel said quickly.

"Let's leave it to you to think about it," the man said.

"What about yourself, what should your image be?" Cassel glanced at the candlestick in his hand and asked, "Candlelight? After all, you have always been our leader."

The man shook his head vigorously.

Cassel closed his mouth tightly, waiting for his answer.

He took a deep breath on the bed and said slowly, "Candlestick."

"why."

"The candlelight is upon you."

Thus, the image of this unnamed man was finalized.

Then Cassel and the man went on talking about the long poem.

What should be included in a long poem, what should be written, in this long speech, from the uprising to the implementation of the new law, from facing the greatest threat to conquering the king are almost finalized, only the ending is left.

And as time passed, the more the man talked, the weaker he became.

Cassel sensed this too, and his voice began to tremble.

The man held the candlestick in his arms.

"About the ending, I have nothing to say." The man said softly.

"It wouldn't be a good ending without your exact words," Cassel insisted.

The man pondered for a while, letting the little time left pass by.

After a long time, he exhausted himself and said, "Everything is logical."

"Only this sentence?"

"Only this sentence." The man confirmed.

The man completely leaned on the bed, and from just now until now, he has been supporting his body with his palms.

He kissed the candlestick lightly and held it to his chest.

Kassel's mind trembled with anticipation.

"Thank you, what a perfect death," the man said.

Cassel's eyes were moist.

"Then," the man was dying, "I should go."

Lord above.

With the last ounce of strength in his life, he squeezed a smile towards his old friend for many years.

Cassel's eyes were sour and he was crying.

Yes, this man without a name just lost his vitality.

Cassel looked at the rusty candlestick that the man was holding tightly to.

He didn't know what to say, the man who had talked about poetry with himself for a long time, the leader and friend for many years, passed away like this, it really didn't feel real.

Cassel's eyes were moist, and even his throat was moist.

He departed, and so peacefully rested.

Kassel put his hands together, he didn't know what he was praying for, he just felt that he should wait quietly like this.

On the wooden window lattices, the light blue curtains were blown by the breeze.

"Nora Rich."

There is a voice coming from a distant place, penetrating everything, and resounding at this moment.

Cassel opened his eyes and looked at everything in front of him in disbelief.

The man held the candlestick tightly and lit it himself.

A warm candle is burning.
Follow this devastated soul.

(End of this chapter)