Chapter 397 No Regrets
As Greven pushed open the iron door, a chill mixed with the smell of iron hit him. Suddenly, he recalled his days as a slave in the Blood Market: the iron cage, the hunger, the cold, the constant whipping and insults, worse than even livestock... And now, his old friend appeared unharmed and untreated, with bread and a bowl of water at his feet, yet his heart felt dead.
——He trapped himself forever in the "cattle pen" in the Bloody Bazaar that exuded filth, despair and blood.
Ashes sat on the simple bed with his back to him, head bowed, motionless. Greven suddenly realized that this taciturn, somewhat cynical middle-aged man's hair had turned half white, even though he should have been far from old at this point.
"…What are you doing here?"
Ashes slowly turned his head and gazed at Greven. Compared to the young man betrayed and tortured to death by the Red Snake when they first met, the lost slave filled with suppressed anger and sorrow, not knowing where to vent, Greven now could be considered a qualified "big man" - steady and solemn, with a reassuring sense of calm and oppression from the battlefield between his brows.
In a trance, he couldn't help feeling a little relieved.
"...Mr. Ghost said he would announce that you died a heroic death at the hands of the enemy."
Greven closed the door, his own voice cracking. Upon hearing this, Ashes pulled the corners of his mouth together in a stiff sneer, but his eyes held no trace of laughter.
"Kindness." He shook his head, with endless fatigue and sarcasm. "He's always like this, kind where it's not necessary, but extremely cruel at certain times - no one can change him."
Greven pursed his lips and forcibly suppressed the urge to argue with others - they were once loyal practitioners of that person, but they didn't know when they parted ways to this extent.
"Mr. Ghost said it was because of a disagreement in ideology." Ashes clearly didn't want to discuss the issue further, but Greven persisted, "But I want to hear your own explanation—remember those times in the Crimson Bazaar? We were trapped in the iron cage together, imagining a future of freedom. You said you hoped we could all escape together, buy a farm that would be completely our own, raise rabbits, dogs, and goats, and ensure that no one would ever go hungry again... But why did it all turn out like this?"
Perhaps because of the mention of the past, the expression on Ashes' face relaxed a little, but he still said expressionlessly, "...There's nothing more to say, Graven. Our paths are different."
"I don't understand." Greven pressed on. At this moment, the usually mild-tempered young man burst into a surprising stubbornness: "We are moving step by step towards our dream. It will soon come true. Everything we do is to ensure that everyone has enough food, so that everyone—"
"Fuck everyone!" Ashes' voice suddenly rose. He stood up abruptly, and the emotions he had been suppressing for a long time seemed to finally find a breakthrough. "I'm not a good person. I just want our people to have enough food and clothes, not to break the last piece of bread to the enemy who wanted to kill us the second before. I'm not as 'great' as Mr. Ghost. Fuck greatness! Fuck everyone!"
"Has he ever been beaten? Does he know what it's like to grit his teeth and do hard labor even when he's starving to the point of vomiting acid? He hasn't experienced watching his wife and daughter being abused and tortured by creditors just for a piece of bread that could save his family's lives. He hasn't seen his closest brother die from a minor infection. So he doesn't understand what these insignificant foods and medicines mean to us, let alone what revenge means to us!"
Ashes' chest was breathing heavily. "Giving what should have belonged to us slaves to the enemy soldiers, depriving us of the right to seek revenge, letting our own people freeze and starve to death just to feed and clothe the enemy—this is not mercy, this is stupidity! This is betrayal! And I cannot betray the dead! They are all looking at me, all of them!"
Greven opened his mouth and wanted to refute, for example, those enemies who truly committed unforgivable crimes would not be forgiven, and that treating low-level prisoners well and undermining the morale of the enemy was a more long-term plan... But he knew that Mr. Ghost had probably said it countless times, but Ashes at this time was not listening at all.
He was like a beggar who had nothing but got a big bag of gold coins in vain. From then on, anyone who dared to look at the gold coins would be a potential enemy - perhaps everyone could blame him, but no one had the right to rebuke his old friend for having such thoughts.
"Before becoming a slave, I dealt with many people, rich and poor, noble and common..." Ashes stared at him coldly. "I know too well what filthy creatures those high-ranking figures are. I also know what those foolish commoners who seem slightly better than us slaves think of us. Everyone oppresses each other, everyone tramples on each other to climb up. Don't even think about changing anyone. Humans are the most greedy creatures in the world. This cannibalistic world will never be as beautiful and pure as that naive fool Ghost portrays."
Greven was silent for a moment, then suddenly spoke, "...You should know the Imperial Second Legion, which was once responsible for guarding the northern border."
Ashes stared at him in silence.
"They suffered heavy losses in the North," the brown-haired young man said slowly. "Part of it was done by the Fearros, and part was buried by the avalanche summoned by Sandra. It was Mr. Ghost who rescued some of the wounded and provided them with medicine, food, and shelter, and he also released the captives who wanted to escape."
A faint sneer crossed Huijin's face at this, but before he could speak, Greven continued, "Due to a shortage of personnel, the former Second Legion was reorganized into other Imperial armies. But just yesterday, near Liaoyuan Fortress, approximately three hundred Imperial soldiers suddenly kidnapped the supreme commander and surrendered to our army. Without a single soldier being killed, our army captured the entire fortress—can you guess why?"
"Because among them were ten prisoners from the Second Legion who were released by Mr. Ghost," Greven said word by word. "They were dissatisfied with their commander for not fighting the Ferros people, but instead intending to send troops to encircle and suppress the People's Army—so they decided to mutiny."
“…”
Greven stared at him intently. "What if these people, fearing retaliation from the People's Army, decide to fight us to the death? What if the battle drags on for a few more days? Will we lose even more of our own people?"
Ashes slowly closed his eyes.
"...That's wonderful," he said tiredly, his voice hoarse. "You are all... young people, very young, your hearts are not dead yet... You still have a future, you still have hope, you are still willing to choose to be brave, willing to believe, and to love."
And there is one thing to be thankful for, Ashes thought, Ghost is not the kind of person who likes to vent his anger on others and act emotionally. He will not be prejudiced and suspicious against Greven just because he has a close personal relationship with him... This kind of cruel and cold brightness, like the sun shining on the earth, without any emotion, makes people love and hate it.
"Go ahead." He slowly sat back down, his back to Greven, his eyes fixed on the cold bricks below. "I want to be alone for the last moments of my life."
"...I still don't know your real name." Greven whispered.
"Real name?" Hui Jin seemed stunned. He was silent for a long time and slowly shook his head. "No, I don't want to be that famous person anymore. I don't have the face to do that. I feel sorry for everyone who knows my name."
He closed his eyes, shutting out all emotion. "But 'ashes' are good. They burn the past, burn everything, burn themselves, and then be blown away by the wind... This is the fate that traitors deserve."
Greven gazed sadly at the back of his old partner and comrade, who had once been his mentor, friend, brother, and father. After a long pause, he slowly turned, somewhat stiffly, and prepared to leave. But just as he was about to close the door separating life and death, he was stopped.
"Greven, give Mr. Ghost a message for me." Ashes' voice trembled slightly from the cell, but it was also firm and resolute. "I have no regrets. If I had the chance to do it again, I would do it again... But I betrayed his trust. I'm sorry to have let him down."
Greven paused, then whispered his agreement. The heavy thud of the iron door closing echoed deep in the corridor before gradually fading into silence. He stood there for a moment, then continued toward the bright light at the end of the corridor, leaving the cell shrouded in dim shadows behind him.
A soldier ran past him, and Greven froze for a moment before realizing more men were hurriedly running behind him. A cold, ominous premonition gripped his heart, and he turned abruptly, following the soldiers toward the cell where Ashes was being held.
Several panicked soldiers had gathered at the cell door, and a strong, fresh smell of blood filled the air. Greven pushed aside the soldiers blocking the door and rushed in.
Ashes was still in the same position as when he left, sitting on the bed with his back to the door, his head gently leaning against the wall, as if he was just asleep.
But Greven's gaze immediately fell on the rapidly expanding dark red pool of blood on the ground. He lunged forward, grasping the man by the shoulder and turning him around. He saw a deep, large wound on his neck, severing his trachea and arteries. The strike was ruthless, and a profuse stream of blood stained his chest, the bed sheets, and the bricks on the ground. No one could survive such a loss.
Huijin's right hand was hanging limply, holding something tightly in his hand - it was an extremely sharp piece of ceramic fragment, which was obviously picked out after the water bowl was broken by the sound of the door closing.
But the expression on that face was very calm, without the slightest sign of pain, and could even be described as relaxed and expectant, as if he was about to keep a long-awaited appointment.
Ashes is dead.
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