The immortal black snake just wants to live simply

"Haha, it's okay. I can understand your fear. After all, in a sense, if a madman suddenly becomes normal, he may just be more seriously ill... But if you can also see those complicated and contradictory [futures], Those vague [cause and effect] will probably be the same as mine."

"..."

The girl looked at the boy who was weaving a crown from branches.

She couldn't understand the boy's weaving technique, nor could she understand the boy's pretense of profound words... She just felt that the boy was very similar to the prophets in the stories her mother told her.

Likes to tell complex riddles.

The girl put on a tattered black cloth to disguise herself as a short and unclear dwarf... This was the boy's request.

The outskirts are not safe.

The young man put on the crown made of branches and placed his hand on the girl's head with dignity.

The scene looked very comical, like a defeated king in rags consecrating his little dwarf knight, who was wrapped tightly all over.

"Go, my servant, get back your sword and offer your loyalty to me!"

The boy said it in the grandiose way of an opera singer.

"It's this kind of fancy lines again. I really don't know the meaning of those exaggerated poems..."

The girl whispered, but did not resist.

Rather, her slightly trembling ears under the cloak actually enjoyed the boy's touch on her head.

Touching the head through cloth certainly does not make a girl feel comfortable, even if the girl is a film.

But it makes the girl feel safe.

The girl actually knows one fact very well.

That means the boy doesn't need her.

After the boy let go of his hand, the girl looked at the sun-reflecting street outside the dark alley and took a deep breath.

She had never been to the countryside.

But it doesn't matter, just listen to the boy's instructions and you'll be right.

When she took a step forward, the boy suddenly grabbed her cloak again.

"You seem to have forgotten what to say."

The boy with squinted eyes and a smile looked at the girl expectantly.

The girl looked helplessly at this young man who was sometimes mature and sometimes naive.

"All right……"

She said a little shyly.

"Goodbye, brother... brother."

"Is that right~"

The boy released his grip on the girl's cloak with satisfaction.

This is what the boy requires that girls must do every time they go out alone.

What does goodbye mean?

[Farewell] and [Reunion].

For the wanderers who are wandering this land and living a precarious life, [Goodbye] is a blessing and a good wish for the future.

Because that at least means that the people who said goodbye are not dead yet, and there is still the possibility of reunion.

……

Although the two said goodbye many times, the girl felt an inexplicable feeling every time she said those two words.

It was a joy that was both shameful and angry.

"...You should hurry up and give yourself a name. It makes me feel sick every time I call you brother."

The girl rarely spoke rudely to the boy, but she seemed to be aware of her mistake. She quickly put on her cloak and ran away.

The young man smiled and shouted at the girl's fleeing back:

"I can't help it. I just woke up not long ago. I don't want to scribble my own name casually... But you are right. It's time to choose a handsome and majestic name for myself~"

The boy's voice crawled towards the girl like a snake and penetrated into the girl's ears.

"Just tonight...but I heard that a name needs to be given by an important person to be meaningful~"

After the girl heard this, she couldn't help but speed up her steps.

She wanted to find the opportunity that the boy told her as soon as possible...before night came.

The girl has lost her family.

But maybe she already has a new family.

……

After confirming that the girl had left, the boy took off the crown he had knitted on his head.

"Hehe...he is such an easy-to-understand cub."

The young man murmured to himself as he tore the exquisite crown he had carefully woven into pieces one by one.

The crown looks like the crown that Victoria bestowed upon the last monarch of the Tara dynasty, the Gaelic King.

Of course, although the crown woven with branches is enough to be called a work of art, it is still far from the real crown.

Even if the so-called crown does not represent so-called friendship, the so-called kindness of the Gaelic King who is unwilling to go to war...it is just Victoria's conspiracy and Tara's incompetence and compromise.

Regardless of whether he lives in Oakwood County at this time, Victoria's [Northern Front], how Count Eric, known as the Ancient Praiser, sings about the glory of Tara in the past, how he praises Drac and denounces Aslan's despicability... has changed. Not a fact.

King Gael was ultimately just a loser.

"King Gael, you died so miserably~"

After the boy finished tearing up his work, he covered his face with his hands and pretended to cry.

Even though he was the only one left in this dark alley.

At this moment, he was like an actor in a drama, full of emotions and exaggerated limbs.

It’s just that the audience of this play is also Him.

The evil god has always been good at amusing himself.

"The world says that you chose the weapons of the Melting Warriors to show your determination, but your ministers could not accept such a defeat, so they conspired to rebel and assassinate your monarch."

"But one assassination is not enough to destroy a red dragon bloodline... The six sword marks that stabbed King Gael to death were, I think, more or less made by Aslan."

After all, Draco is difficult to kill.

The evil god has some say in this.

Because He really killed the Drak clan that was nomadic in Tara.

Although he also killed the Draco clan on the Londinium side.

If you live too long and have too many clones, you will definitely have many enemies.

Drak's unique flame was also considered troublesome to the evil god at that time... and it was also troublesome to the evil god at that time. So one can imagine how powerful the Drak clan was at that time.

They once occupied a corner of the earth, and their flames protected the fertility of their people's land.

Unfortunately, too much power also forged their arrogance... When Aslan arrived from afar, they were unwilling to make progress. No matter how much power they individually had, and how one man was able to control the barrier, and no one could stop them, they were finally Too rare.

And they don’t know how to use the power of their people.

The savage Drak were no match for the steam of Londinium, nor could they even defy Victoria's canonization.

And no matter how Victoria wrote history, she had even deceived them... How could she deceive a young man who could predict the future?

And no matter how much the ancient Earl of Warwick praised King Gael and admired the Drak dynasty under his rule...how could he deceive the ancient evil god?

Distorted history cannot deceive those who have experienced history and... witnesses.

Black Snake knows even more secrets.

"Drake... lost to Aslan who had the support of the Beast Master. You did not lose unjustly."

After all, in the past, some existence could easily determine the rise or fall of a country.

of course.

Now some of them can still do it.

It's just not that easy anymore.

……

On the outskirts, the girl curiously looked at the broken staff in her hand.

"Is this the adventure my brother mentioned?"

The girl murmured to herself.

She actually doesn't resist the title of brother...she's just not used to it.

The girl waved the staff curiously, although in her eyes, it was just a broken stick.

Ah... maybe it's a valuable stick.

After all, a boy would never give meaningless instructions.

"Forget it... let's go back quickly."

After all tonight...

But there is a very important event.

The leaving girl didn't notice that behind her, hundreds of tiny stones were gathered together...

And arranged and combined in a wonderful order.

If you look down from a high altitude, you can clearly see that the pattern formed by the gravel looks like a boy.

A boy wearing a crown.

……

On the street, a child dressed in luxurious clothes was whipping several children about the same age as him with a whip.

The difference was that most of the children he whipped were in shabby clothes and looked very thin.

Those children wanted to escape, but the servants of the noble children stopped the children who wanted to escape.

"Master...it's getting late. Dealing with these vulgar Tara people will only tarnish the honor of you and your family."

The deacon standing next to the fat noble child seemed to be unable to bear the abuse of those children, and wanted to dissuade the young master he served from going home first.

But the noble kid didn't care.

"I'm just playing games with them... and they are the only ones willing to play this kind of game with me."

Yes, even among nobles, this phenomenon is rarely seen nowadays.

Even the Nobility Law promulgated by Londinium strictly prohibits this behavior.

Not all nobles are fools. In order to satisfy their perverted desires, they beat civilians for no reason in public. There are only a very few...and they will soon be eliminated by the nobles collectively.

After the execution of the old King Aslan, the dukes worked hard to win over the people and eye the crown of Londinium.

The alignment and competition among the nobles have become more intense than ever before, and if they want to protect themselves, they must not be left with any clues.

But this noble child is different.

He's not stupid...or not completely stupid.

He at least understood that the Tara people could be bullied at will, and most people in Victoria were discriminatory against the Tara people, so few people would come to trouble him.

Of course, there are only a few people who want to cause trouble, not none. No matter how much the Victorians generally discriminate against the Tara people, some righteous people in the patrol who vaguely remember the oath they took when they joined the team will try to stop this behavior.

But those people are too few.

The aristocratic child continued to swing the whip vigorously, and layers of sweat dripped down his greasy cheeks.

He had a great time.

The more miserable the screams of children his own age, the happier he becomes... His whip is not lethal, for he is well aware of the fragility of these lowly Taras.