Star

Mason's consciousness rose and fell, like a dip in warm water.

The physical pain was separated from the thoughts, and for a moment it was hard to tell whether it was a dream or reality.

This vest is gone, after all, it is the first person to be molded. Mason can't help but feel a little distressed, not to mention that he has not yet completed his original purpose, to help Amira and the people in the town get rid of their current ugly appearance. It can be said that he has lost both the wife and the army.

But he didn't feel any regret or regret. Even though he ruined this character line that took him a long time to develop, Mason still felt that apart from the trouble in the future, he did the right thing today.

Fortunately, apart from Oreius, he was still able to clearly control the other two vests. The consciousness that stayed in the broken body was about to withdraw, but it suddenly stopped where it was.

Suddenly he heard crying.

A faint, low, crying sound came from nowhere. It echoed in my ears, sounding sad and hopeless.

Mason hesitated for a moment before leaving, and then slowly followed the sound. This was a strange connection that led him into a strange area.

There was no space or time, no objects or life. In the flowing chaos, only the crying sound was like a thread, gently leading him to somewhere in the void.

From the perspective of the other vests, Mason judged that he had been here for about half an hour. He slowly floated forward, and his body finally changed, from nothingness to a small ball emitting furry red light.

With the help of the light, he also saw clearly that some strange translucent substances appeared around him at some point.

It was a series of thin threads. Mason approached it tentatively and found that the composition of the material was all black mist. Humans looked at the floating threads in silence. They just felt that this thing could be seen everywhere, just like a bug, and it was extremely annoying.

At the same time he found the black line, the latter immediately found him and pounced on him like a wolf seeing meat. The ball hit him subconsciously, but the attacker was smashed into pieces and dispersed into a cloud of mist.

Mason found that these things had no effect on him, so he arrogantly headed towards the center of the black line, intending to see what it was. The diffuse black mist had no effect on him at all, and seeing that the prey was not an easy bone to chew, the black mist circled around him a few times, and finally returned to its original light and floating posture.

For a moment, the ball and the black line were in perfect harmony. With the help of the light from his body, Mason could see the thin ropes entwined around him, like the colorful ropes a child plays with. As he moved forward, the crying became less clear.

Gradually, the surrounding mist became thicker, and the shape of the light ball also changed. The first thing that emerged from the void was the young man's scarred hands, followed closely by his shoulders. The blood-soaked hem of his clothes fell heavily, and the blood-stained facial features gradually became clear.

This part of his consciousness still maintained the appearance of Oreius, and his body was covered with wounds, but he did not feel any pain. Mason tried to move his left shoulder, and although it was in a miserable state, it was not a problem in this situation.

He looked around with relief, and saw shadows vaguely emerging from the dark mist. When he passed by them, he could hear bursts of tiny cries.

As we walked further, the shapes of the shadows around us gradually became clearer. A woman kneeled on the ground, covering her face and crying: "My child, my child..."

The other man looked up at the sky, his face blurred, and he kept repeating stubbornly: "Why did you kill her, why did you kill her..."

When people walked past them, they looked back or raised their heads, the black mist covering their faces dissipated illusoryly, and they repeated incomprehensible mumblings. The diffuse black mist piled up and formed a thick cloud, which differentiated into tentacles extending in all directions and rolled towards the young man.

Mason's mind moved slightly, and a holy long sword appeared in his hand. Every time he cut off a tentacle, a figure would let out a painful wail, and more tentacles would appear one after another, making it extremely difficult to entangle.

These people who once struggled just to survive have now all become puppets controlled by the black mist. The young man paused for a moment, and more tentacles took the opportunity to wrap around his limbs. Countless cries flooded into his mind, and Mason saw scenes one after another:

On a quiet night, the village was sleeping peacefully. But as the ground shook, countless phantom spiders crawled out from underground. People fought desperately, but were drowned by the monsters in vain.

A washerwoman collapsed, and the child's hand slipped weakly from her broken palm.

A carpenter fell, his axe lying heavy on the ground, the blade stained with the monster's and his own blood.

A loyal hound stood in front of its old master, barking and showing its fangs to the phantom spiders in front of it. But these were not the humans who would normally accept warnings, and amid the crazy barking, the spiders devoured them coldly.

The spiders crawling out from the ground were like flowing transparent light, gushing out from the ground like a river or a sea, drowning all things belonging to humans. In the chaos, some people were resisting, some were dying, some were crying, and some were pushing others behind them.

All the good and evil of human beings when facing despair are vividly displayed here. With strong pollution, it continuously flows into the young man's perception from the lingering tentacles of black mist. Mason feels dizzy and nauseous. The evil pollution clings to his consciousness tightly and penetrates into it without any holes.

Even the most steadfast bloodline will suffer a mental breakdown the moment they come into direct contact with the black mist, transforming from the inside out into a complete monster.

Strong emotions rushed down, impacting the young man's mind. Mason tried his best to resist the mental pollution. In the difficult confrontation, he suddenly heard the sound of light wind in his ears, and his mind suddenly became clear.

It was the soothing sound of lush branches and leaves being blown by the wind, more melodious than the gurgling of a stream in the forest, like a moving song born from the heart of life.

This beautiful voice resounded directly from the young man's body and spread clearly to every corner, protecting the child he had born from pollution.

It is the song from the creator and recorder of the world. The vast sea of ​​poetry converges into clear and pure waves, accompanying every swing of the sword by the swordsman, clearing out a Yang Kang Avenue leading to the source of the black line.

The black mist that was originally trying to mutate the superior seed fled in panic as if it saw an enemy. Once it hid in a range that could not be reached by the sound waves, it cast a spying look.

This is the first time the World Tree has offered to help. It seems to be quite effective?

Mason was surprised and delighted, and he did not dare to waste the time that the World Tree had bought for him, so he raised his long sword again. Seeing this, the black mist changed its attack again, and many blurry human figures grew out of the chaotic slime, reaching out to grab the young man's pants and feet with a pitiful look.

Every face was one that Mason had just seen in his memory. The black threads behind them stretched out into the distance, making the scene seem like a ghost cave.

Even if you show mercy, it's useless, everyone here is already dead. The red-haired young man raised the sword in his hand, and he would silently recite in his heart every time he struck.

The sword cut off the woman's neck. She was a seamstress who lived in the town and was an excellent worker.

The sword cut off the man's head. He was a cowardly gangster, but he protected a pair of children from leaving when Spider-Man attacked.

This sword, this sword, and this sword.

He walked in the most horrible hell of mankind, doing the worst possible thing, attacking innocent dead people and creating a road full of wailing.

After passing through countless shadows, the young man finally reached his goal. It was a tall tree. It was as tall as a person, and countless vines with claws and fangs spread out in all directions like tentacles. It looked indescribably evil from a distance.

Mason stood still and looked up. In the center of the tree was a very blurry shadow. Black threads wrapped it into a dense cocoon. Even if he tried to cut it off, the black mist still poured into the tree without any holes, supporting the operation of this empty space.

He walked slowly forward, and with the help of the World Tree, he was able to walk through the dark fog as if on flat ground. The human stood in front of the tree, his eyes lingering on the shadow for a long time, and then tried to cut the black lines with his sword.

A little red appeared under the layers of heavy wrapping. It took Mason a while to identify what it was. He paused slightly, became more careful, and slowly peeled it out of the thick shell, then gently wiped away the mist on the surface.

The object pressed tightly against my palm was throbbing slightly. It was a red heart.

As if sensing the approach of an outsider, the ferocious and terrifying tendrils of the vines paused slightly, and all turned in a different direction, looking down at the young man.

Just when Mason thought they were going to attack him, an extremely thin branch stretched out from the vine and touched the young man's cheek with certainty.

This familiar action made his heart a little sad. Under the obstruction of the World Tree, the black mist that formed the tendrils of the vine was being dispersed. The young man was silent for a moment, and took the initiative to reach out and grasp the tip of the vine.

"I'm sorry to drag you into this."

A hoarse, almost indistinguishable voice rang in his ears, vaguely sounding familiar.

"Perhaps I was wrong. I only wanted to protect them, but I forgot that there is no room for innocence in a land filled with dark fog. If people do not know the true nature of the dark fog, they will be easily deceived by it."

"I just want to preserve a hope from the darkness. When our descendants look up, they will see not terror and corpses, but the shining starry sky."

At this point, Amira smiled bitterly.

"But even so, I couldn't do it. I was too proud, and too weak. I couldn't do it with my own strength. I'm sorry. I paid the price for my naivety, and even implicated you and the remaining children."

The red-haired young man shook his head: "You don't have to apologize for this, it's not your fault."

"No, it was indeed my fault. In fact, I clearly realized my mistakes and I made the wrong decision, but I don't regret it."

The flowing black mist slowly dissipated, revealing old, withered, deformed limbs that had merged into the vines. The Baron's voice seemed to sigh: "I have a wish, a wish that cannot be fulfilled and cannot be told to others."

"I hope that one day, our descendants will no longer be afraid of the black fog, will not be parasitized by patrols, and will not live in fear all day long. I know that despair and death are the main themes of this land, but I still feel deeply, deeply painful."

"I know how weak I am. Humans have done their best just to survive. Living on a land like this, we have no right to dream. But even so, do we not even have the right to look at the stars?"

The red-haired young man's heart, which was riddled with holes, was beating like blood, and he was silent for a moment.

The souls of the entire town surrounded them, sobbing in response to Amira's words. Mason's eyes slid over them one by one. They were all ordinary people who tried their best to live in their lifetime, but after death, they could only be controlled by the black mist.

But in this world, there are too few people who can live freely.

After a moment of silence, the young man touched his nose and raised his voice, "Actually, I should have said something more impressive at this point, like, leave it all to me, there will be absolutely no problem. That's what's written in the novel."

"I quite like to show up suddenly at an important moment, and when others arrive, I can coolly say something like, 'You are too late, I have already dealt with all the enemies.' I always think that is very cool."

"But what you want is not something that can be accomplished by sheer force - Amira. If you want to change the world, you have to change human society."

"It's not an easy road. If we want to change human society, we need to find technological breakthroughs, institutional improvements, and leaps in productivity. At the very least, we need to find ways for ordinary people to deal with black fog and stable means of eliminating pollution, and equip a team to solve pollution problems. Unfortunately, I am not good at any of these."

Before he knew it, blurry figures had gathered around the red-haired young man. They said nothing, and just like Fujiki, they just listened to each other in silence.

In reality, most souls didn’t really understand what the other party was saying, but everyone realized that the person in front of them was really thinking very seriously about how to reach that future.

Under the gaze of the deceased, the human continued to speak. His heartbeat slightly accelerated, and a warm feeling spread. For the first time in his life, he felt that the gaze of others had such weight, weighing heavily on his shoulders, like a rock on his body without feeling oppressive.

This is not an easy road.

At least Mason didn't think he could accomplish this great goal, but he knew that he did have great power.

Stronger than Amira, stronger than Shaken, and even stronger than most people in this world. He holds power and does not fight with the world. It was only then that Mason had to admit: It is indeed easy for one person to survive, but it is extremely difficult to keep everyone alive.

For the first time, he wanted to try and let more people live together. Not to complete the character setting, but to express his inner feelings. The red-haired young man looked directly at the beating heart, as if he saw Amira's naked desire. His lips opened and closed, and his voice was low.

"I am just a swordsman. I can kill monsters with violence, but I cannot uphold justice or build a stable country. I cannot make promises, but I did hear you."

Something was about to burst out from his chest. Was he really capable of meeting their expectations? The red-haired young man asked himself, but there was no answer.

But there is always a time when people get too excited and don't think ahead or behind. In the lingering black mist, humans looked at the dirty heart seriously and stretched out their right hand to it. Their dark golden pupils sparkled, and every word they said was loud.

"I have heard your wishes and the unwillingness of these souls. I am not a good person, but I do not intend to be a bad person. If there is no light ahead, I am willing to light one for those who come after me."

"I can't change the world, but I will try to make it a better place. As you said, Amira, everyone has the right to see the stars. Wouldn't it be sad if we are not even allowed to look up?"

Amira did not answer. After a long while, he stretched out a slender vine branch and gently placed it in the young man's palm.

Mason tightly grasped his vine, even though the black mist on the vine dissipated. It was like two tightly clasped hands, without any warmth, silently conveying trust and solemnity.

Many scenes flashed through Amira's mind. Before this, he had never thought that one day he would tell other people about this fantastic wish, nor did he expect to get a response.

Hope is childish, hope is naive, hope is worthless.

For those who are busy surviving, they only need to look ahead and at their feet, and never think of looking up and looking into the distance.

The elegant and romantic Baron always feels that living in this world is not easy. If he gives up even the last bit of hope, what will the future be like?

A walking corpse, numb and insensitive. People who live just for the sake of living cannot teach a child to smile.

The Bloodline Being who was about to be swallowed by the black mist gave a light push, as if throwing a stone into the water, and a huge force pushed the human backwards.

"Please do so, Mr. Aurelius. Your escort has arrived, and I look forward to the day when this promise will be fulfilled."

"I knew from the first time I met you that you were an incredible person. The first time, you helped my town. The second time, you supported me and the town. This is the third time, and I am willing to place my final bet on you."

The baron's voice was smiling. Our souls eventually returned to the black mist, and you will also return to the world.

One day, the pollution will dissipate and the devoured souls will be able to rest in peace. Just treat it as a promise, all the words are left unfinished. He sincerely hopes that they will be reunited here at that time.

The black mist moved, but this time it was not intended to attack. The young man opened his eyes wide and saw a pair of hands reaching out from the black mist, lifting him back to where he came from.

Old, young, male, female.

Full of pain but extremely firm, different professions and different ages. A pair of hands lifted this scarred soul high from the black mist, passing it to each other and pushing it forward.

During this process, the human body becomes smaller and smaller, and lighter and lighter. Finally, it becomes a small ball of light, just like when it came, and is sent to the highest and farthest place by hands covered with black mist.

The faint light became fainter and fainter. Soon, there was only the surging black fog. The ever-expanding fog roared and submerged the entire consciousness space. The empty air burst into cracks, and scarlet blood flashed from time to time, as if it was fighting fiercely with the black fog.

But compared to the overwhelming power of the pollution, these blood threads were like an egg hitting a rock. After repeated fierce battles, the blood threads were dissipating at a speed visible to the naked eye. Amira also felt increasingly exhausted.

He looked around and saw familiar faces. In his last moments of consciousness, there was no resentment or pain on these faces. They looked at him calmly and gently, as if they were calling him "Baron" with respect and obedience.

As if she understood something, Amira smiled helplessly: "Even if you continue to stay with me, I can no longer protect you. I am already a monster that must be eliminated."

The souls remained silent, silently answering his advice. Amira sighed softly, and along with the pain of being pierced through her body, the pulse of her heart gradually weakened.

Black blood trickled out from the rift, and souls clung to him, being swallowed by the spreading black mist and pulled into the deepest darkness.

Death is painful.

Amira's sight slowly rose to a very high place.

There, the night sky was deep and the stars were shining. Under his feet was the town he had been guarding, with bright lights, like a galaxy sprinkled on the ground.

The baron, wearing a shirt and with deep eyes, looked at this scene quietly for a long time.

Until the final heart-breaking moment, he smiled and whispered a final sigh of praise.

"Look, my friends. I am guarding a beautiful star."