Chapter 408 Grisha
"Grisha, you're just daydreaming here again."
"Don't call me Grisha, call me Grigori. I'm a man now."
"Okay, Grisha~"
The boy turned around angrily and ran into the bushes, leaving the laughing children behind.
The children formed a small team and carried out daily patrols in an orderly manner. They said they would join the resistance army when they grew up.
They said nice things, but they still failed to save Lady Nora, didn't they? Grisha beat the ground with a branch.
When Lord Nora Grisha thought of the figure standing in front of them, his heart ached.
Lord Nora died on the way to the retreat.
At that time, the noble lords in the north sent many cavalry to sweep the area. The resistance army was called an army, but in fact most of them were ordinary people fleeing. They had been hiding in the woods. This time, they finally gathered a team and went to the town to exchange for some food, but they were discovered somehow.
Lord Nora told them to run quickly, and then he rushed towards the cavalrymen with a flail in his hand.
Grisha wanted to help her, but when he saw the cavalry's scimitars, his heart began to pound wildly and his mind was filled with fear. When he came to his senses, he had collapsed in the camp with everyone else, gasping for breath.
Thinking of this, Grisha slapped himself hard, stood there for a while, then sat down on the ground and started crying.
He would never see Mistress Nora again.
Nora was a very serious person. She would scold him, make him stand in the corner when he did something wrong, and also give him roasted chestnuts.
Everyone in the Resistance looks up to Master Nora.
Mistress Nora never said where she came from, but everyone knew she was the Underbearer of the Silent Temple.
Several priests from the Silent Temple had come here before, and after a quarrel with Master Nora, they tried to take them away, but no one moved.
Even the oldest one, old Ivan, turned his head away - he was the most devout believer in the church.
The Temple of Silence never saved them, but Nora did. They didn't care about the Temple of Silence. Wherever Nora was, that was the Temple.
But now, Nora is gone.
Grisha's tears flowed down in big drops, dripped onto the ground and froze into ice.
At the beginning, there were quarrels in the camp every day.
They are just a group of ordinary people, but they gather around Lord Nora and become a rebel force that gives the noble lord a headache.
But now that Nora was gone, they were once again a group of refugees with nothing.
But slowly, the camp became quiet.
Everyone fell silent. The nobles raided the place again and again. Many people were arrested, and the remaining people became increasingly silent.
There is no point in surrendering. Their lives are worth less than a few coppers, and the thing the North lacks the least is refugees.
It was impossible to break out. When Lady Nora was around, the resistance army was just barely holding on. Now without her, it was just slowly dying out.
They were like salmon in a river that were gradually freezing, and all they could do was wait to die.
But that was the adults' business. The children were still too young, and although they could sense that the atmosphere was becoming increasingly depressing, they still played patrol games and fantasized about joining the resistance when they grew up.
They don’t know that they can’t grow up.
Grisha got up silently when he was tired of crying. You cannot sleep on the ground in the winter in the North. Although it is comfortable and warm to sleep, you will not see the sun tomorrow.
Grisha forced himself to stand up, feeling a little dizzy. He walked forward for a long time before realizing that he was going in the wrong direction.
The forests in the north were covered with white snow, but Grisha had been here for almost a year and knew how to get around.
He chose an unfamiliar road and could roughly tell that this was the road leading to the camp. Here they were almost out of the woods. He stepped deep and shallow in the snow, and his small figure squeezed out a long trace on the pure white snowfield.
Click.
The sound of metal colliding was extremely harsh in the quiet wilderness.
Grisha turned his head hastily like a frightened little animal, but it was too late. A black shadow in his field of vision was rapidly enlarging! Bang! The metal hammers of the flail collided in front of his eyes. He could even see the scriptures engraved on them, mixed with countless scratches covered with flesh and blood, giving him a strange sense of holiness.
The man with the weapon held back at the last moment, and Link almost blew Grisha's little head off.
Grisha was so scared that he collapsed on the ground. After a moment, he suddenly thought of something and looked at the person in front of him with anticipation.
The heavy fur boots had worn edges, and a little of them could be barely seen through the gaps in the armor.
The pure white ice heavy armor was as cold, hard and solid as the never-melting glaciers in the North, with layers of frozen blood on it like an inlaid pattern.
A huge tower shield blocked the short figure. It was a figure that Grisha was very familiar with. She had stood in front of him countless times. When she raised the shield, it seemed that the cold wind slowed down for a moment.
Grisha's tears welled up again.
He didn't bother to wipe it off, and let it flow down his cheeks and freeze with his snot.
He rushed forward, hugging the cold armor as devoutly as if he were hugging his mother.
"Lord Nora, you are back, is that you?"
The frozen blood on the armor was slightly warmed up and rubbed against Grisha's face, but he didn't care at all and looked up -
But that was not the face he had been thinking about day and night.
That should be a girl with white hair, a firm and fearless gaze, and a stern face. But as long as you see her, a feeling of security will arise from the bottom of your heart.
But now. It's empty.
A headless body walked on the snowy plains of the north and stood in front of Grisha.
Grisha should have been terrified, should have screamed, should have run away, but his feet seemed to be rooted to the ground. The feeling of fear flashed through his mind and was blown away by the howling cold wind, leaving only warmth in his heart.
She is Nora, she is Nora no matter what, and as long as Nora is around, there is nothing to be afraid of.
The fingers grasping the flail moved.
Grisha shuddered and closed his eyes, but was unwilling to let go. He would rather be killed by Nora than abandon her and run away.
The escape to the North is too painful. It is better to die here than to continue living like this.
He held Nora's armor, his face covered with blood and tears, and he couldn't tell whose blood and whose tears.
There was the sound of metal colliding and rubbing, the flails were raised high, and the incense burners touched each other gently, as if they were passing judgment.
Grisha suddenly felt calm.
He should have died long ago, in the White Plague, and it was Nora who jumped off the carriage and pulled him out of the collapsed house.
Nora's hand fell down, the metal-covered gauntlet was cold and hard, and she gently stroked Grisha's head, as if trying to comfort him clumsily.
Grisha's tears started flowing again.
(End of this chapter)
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