Chapter 397 Ending
"I can't die. I am Sean, the son of Dragon's Breath!"
Kevin Sean seemed to be trying his best to support himself with his elbows. When he opened his mouth, a stream of blood gushed out. It was an internal injury, very severe.
"I am Thane... Thane, son of Dragon's Breath, leader of the Saxons, champion warrior, avenger."
The pain intensified, making his voice smaller and smaller, but he did not give up. Even though his physical condition no longer allowed him to do so, he still endured it.
It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. Facing the Celtics who were getting closer and closer, although he walked with a limp, looking as funny as a duck, he was also as dangerous as a hungry and bloodthirsty wolf.
Kevin clenched his teeth, feeling as if his chest and lungs were pierced by several knives. Every breath, even the most relaxing exercise, made him feel excruciating pain.
He still got up, but turned over, fell to his knees, and curled up like a fragile creature protecting itself.
"Father!"
Kevin murmured as blood continued to flow from his lips. His vision blurred. In the haze, he only saw a figure getting closer and closer. But that figure was so familiar. He couldn't help but widen his eyes, trying to see clearly what it was. Gradually, the figure came closer. It was his father, Sean Dragon Breath, who had died long ago.
"Father!"
Ignoring the pain, Kevin stopped abruptly and looked at the approaching figure.
"Kevin, Kevin."
The calls were so familiar, they were indeed the voice of Sean Dragon Breath, Kevin should have believed it without a doubt. He held his breath and listened carefully, just like he did before.
"Sword, Dragon Breath Sword!"
Sean Dragon's breath was intermittent, but Kevin could hear it clearly. Kevin tried to move his sore arm and grabbed the hilt. At the moment he grabbed the hilt, everything seemed to become clear.
The blur in front of his eyes was dispelled in an instant, and the blurry figure became clear. It was the Celtic who was approaching.
The Celtic came over, cursing, and grabbed Kevin's hair and lifted up Kevin Sean, who had no power to fight back. Kevin groaned in pain in the Celtic's hands, and then he opened his eyes again and stared straight at the wall of Ibolacom.
Why? Why were the Anglo-Saxons indifferent in such a situation? They were watching coldly, and only two of them were crying.
One was a young woman, and the other was a child of only a few years old. They were the only ones who could feel the warmth among the cold faces, although it was no longer important.
"Art." Kevin Sean murmured. He did not see Art on the city wall. At such a life-threatening moment, his most trusted friend Art was nowhere to be seen. Kevin didn't know why, but he didn't have time to guess.
He grasped the Celtic's hand with his left hand and tightly gripped the hilt of the Dragon's Breath Sword with his right hand, as if as long as he held the sword, he would not die under the protection of his father, Sean Dragon's Breath.
This Celtic was really strong. He raised the huge sword in his hand with one hand and put it on Kevin's neck. Although the blade was not sharpened, steel was always harder than bone. With the Celtic's strength, he could use it to chop off Kevin's head.
The Celtic's eyes were ferocious, but his expression was slightly smug. It was really unfortunate that he succeeded again, although he ate some bones.
"Father, Valhalla!" Kevin kept repeating in his mouth, he fluttered like a rabbit, although the huge pain from his scalp and internal injuries almost made him faint. He still calmed down, he calmed down when he was enduring such great pain. He raised his head and glared at the Celtic man in front of him with a ferocious expression.
"I haven't lost yet!"
When the Celt was about to pull the giant sword in his hand, Kevin roared, and then as if he had stimulated his potential, he suddenly drew out the Dragon Breath Sword and slashed at the Celt in front of him.
The Celtic was stunned for a moment, then blood gushed out of his neck. He quickly let go, dropped Kevin and the giant sword, and stepped back with his hands covering his neck. This fatal injury would kill any normal person, no matter how strong you are.
"Father! Father!"
Kevin fell heavily to the ground and finally lost his last bit of strength. He lay on the ground, stars in his eyes, and kept calling for his father. He firmly believed that it was his father, Sean Dragon Breath, who gave him guidance.
The Celtic man was bleeding all over the floor. He opened his mouth to cry out, but no sound came out. He fell to his knees, face down in a pool of blood, and after a brief convulsion, he finally died.
"I did it, Dad!"
Kevin Sean's face slightly raised, finally showing the actions of a winner. He was so weak that he couldn't even stand up. Lying on the ground, his injured lungs made every breath he took extremely painful.
He opened his eyes and looked up at the sky. Yes, ever since the Romans came, he had been looking down at the map, the situation, and the enemy. This time, he could finally look up at the sky again.
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The blue was clean and pure. I don't know how long it has been since I last saw it. At this moment, Kevin felt a sense of peace in his heart. The blue sky was like an invisible hand, caressing his heart. The soul passing by on the ground was like his wife's hand, constantly comforting him, making his soul calm at this moment.
The whole scene became extremely quiet, as if this group of people were standing there like statues, and no one came forward to help, especially the Anglo-Saxon alliance.
Kevin stared at the sky blankly, smiling, until a face appeared in his sight. The face was painted with blue paint, and the eyes were as fierce as a hungry wolf. The sky was no longer pure, but blocked everything.
Kevin restrained his smile, his expression full of confusion, he saw the face was cold, both hands were holding the wooden shaft of the spear, Kevin saw the sharp tip of the spear, then the second, the third, a dozen people surrounded him.
"Shh! Shh! Shh!"
Kevin was surrounded by them, blood flowing from under their feet. Kevin didn't scream from beginning to end. The Celtics were like poking a straw bag.
On the city walls of Iboracom, everyone witnessed this tragic scene, a trace of pity flashed across their faces, but it was quickly replaced by indifference.
"You will be ashamed of this, Art! He once trusted you so much and was a staunch ally of yours. You betrayed him with such despicable means!" A woman, her eyes blurred with tears, her expression showing anger and hatred.
The child behind the woman was only a few years old, and he, like his mother, looked at Art, the ugly guy, with hatred.
"Sorry, ma'am! I just want more people to survive." Art smiled, revealing his missing teeth on the left side. In Art's hand, he held a piece of sheepskin. What was written on it, I'm afraid only Art himself knew.
(End of this chapter)