Boluogo bit his tongue and gradually stood up straight, his body full of exhaustion and pain. He was surrounded by daisies with orange-red halos, which swayed slightly in the wind and made a soothing rustling sound.
, some petals were lifted by the wind, and they floated into the air, like countless fireflies flying around them.
Sporadic gunshots rang out, and the hunters were hunting the remaining monsters. It wouldn't be long before they could completely clear this place. Thinking of this, Boluogo's eyes chased the figure who helped him. On the edge of the sea of flowers, he reluctantly
I saw the hunter leaving.
Boluogo guessed that he should be the character in "Night Hunters", but he never thought that one day he would be able to fight side by side with the character in the book.
Beyond time and space, beyond the barriers between reality and illusion.
The hunter picked up his sword. As if he felt Boluogo's gaze, he turned around and waved to him. He was also curious why this man actually had the same sword as himself, but he still had something to do.
Without stopping for a moment, he continued to move forward, heading towards the Dawn.
Boluogo wanted to catch up with him. The intersection of reality and stories made him excited, but soon he also realized that he also had things to do. The hunter had to take care of his friends. Boluogo also had his own
Friends need help.
Through the sea of flooding flowers, Boluogo found Aimu in the cold crater. This time, Boluogo did not simply carry Aimu like he used to do with cargo, but directly held her in his arms.
Luo Ge thought it was nothing. Aimu had helped him a lot. It was okay to take it seriously. However, Aimu was a little shy. Fortunately, in the state of the steel body, she was very good at controlling her expression.
Bologg felt much more relaxed during the next journey. The rock weighing on his heart disappeared, and every step carried a sense of lightness. He passed over the ruins filled with corpses and found Palmer near the big library.
This guy's face was sluggish, but his eyes were filled with excitement. The tentacles dug out bloody holes on his ankles and thighs. The bleeding was stopped in time. Palmer was fine for the time being, but he staggered when he walked.
Staggering, Boluoge had no choice but to stretch out a hand to support him.
The three scarred guys moved forward slowly, which reminded Boluogo of the three-legged game between the two. After a long time, they climbed back into the big library.
The big library at this moment is completely different from what it looked like in memory. Among the ruins, only Irwin's workbench is still standing, and the two people dancing on the workbench have stopped long ago. In addition to the typewriter on the table,
All that's left are footprints in the dust.
Asmodeus leaned against the ruined wall beside him, folding his arms and looking at the sea of burning flowers in the distance. This arrogant devil looked unusually lonely, and a faint sigh could be heard.
She needs humanity to understand all this, but she is trapped in layers because of humanity.
Bologg guessed that this was related to the authority controlled by Asmodeus. She was originally a witch of pleasure, and she lived by reducing all happiness. If it were not for the difficulty of obtaining precious emotions, she might be a sentimental devil.
Irwin moved a chair and sat on it. The last dance seemed to have exhausted all his energy. His breathing became rough and his hands dropped weakly. Irwin still wanted to hit the keys and write something on the typewriter, but he
Even this strength was gone. Apart from being able to think and breathe, he was no different from a corpse.
Noticing the return of Boluogo and the others, he raised his head slightly, with an ugly smile on his old and withered face, "Is it all over?"
Boluogo nodded and put Aimu and Palmer down, "It's all over, they're all dead."
Looking at Irwin's current state, Boluogo couldn't help but feel sad, "The ending of the story is very good. The hunters wiped out those monsters and killed them all."
After saying this, Boluogo felt melancholy. All stories have their endings. Obviously, the ending of this story has come, so what will happen next?
Boluogo didn't know, but he felt that Irwin should know that this was the story he wrote, his victory.
"Did I win? Asmodeus."
Irwin looked at Asmodeus, his words full of self-satisfaction, "You look a little unhappy. It feels bad to lose."
Asmodeus withdrew his gaze, and his indifferent gaze fell on Irwin. This mortal had spent his whole life trying to resist her. She could feel the rapid passage of Irwin's vitality. This man was already old.
The old thing, after experiencing the story, seemed to have burned out the last firewood.
"So what if you win, you're going to die, Irwin."
Asmodeus said contemptuously, "So what about those things you stubbornly pursue? In the end, don't you have to rely on me and a devil to remember everything about you?"
Irwin laughed after hearing this. At this moment, he felt that Asmodeus was like a child. If he lost the game, he could only say cruel words outside the game.
A sense of relief filled his old and withered face, and he sighed helplessly.
"Asmodeus, you really don't understand anything."
"Look at what this power has twisted you into," his words were full of compassion, like a pastor praying for people, and then he blessed, "I hope you can understand all this in the days to come,
Regain what you have lost.”
Asmodeus's eyes trembled slightly, as if Irwin's words touched a fragile point deep in her heart. She hesitated whether to end it all completely, even if it was extremely rude, but Irwin did not continue.
, he stared at himself for a long time, and then looked at Boluogo and others.
Irwin wasted too much time on Asmodeus. At least in this last time, he hoped to spend it with his friends.
Aimu and Palmer were sitting on the ground leaning against the wall. Boluogo was holding his sword stubbornly, refusing to fall down at all. Looking at his stubborn look, Irwin sighed.
"I still can't believe it."
"What can't you believe?" Bologg asked, "Is it a miracle now?"
This is a miracle in the true sense, the confrontation between humans and demons, the intersection of story and reality. Even for the undead, in their long years, such things are extremely precious.
"No...I can't believe it. We have only known each other for a few days." Irwin's eyes swept over the faces of several people and deeply remembered their looks in his mind. "It feels like we have been together for a lifetime."
."
The time they experienced was so short, but it seemed so long in retrospect. Irwin was a lonely guy all his life. He often thought he would die alone. This daisy castle was so huge, but there was no place covered with dust.
, there is only a big library. Irwin himself did not expect such an ending.
Irwin has never been shy about showing his emotions, and his words are full of sincerity. Thinking of this, he began to miss the girl named Cinderella. He thought that one day in the future, Asmodeus should take her identity.
Appeared in this world again, but by then, I don't know if she will still remember him.
Oh, by the way, I also have my own muse.
Irwin felt a warmth. This warmth came from his heart, from the depths of his soul. At the end of the depth, there was an altar built by his own hands, enshrining the statues of gods piled up with countless memories and fantasies.
At this moment, Irwin felt that all his values had been realized, and his body and soul had been sublimated. For this reason, he whispered to himself.
"This is a cruel and noisy world. Everyone is struggling for their own desires. No one cares about romance anymore, let alone poetry?
It doesn't matter, I still exist and I will be the final defender..."
The melodious sound of the whistle came from the battlefield. The hunters had already cleared the battlefield. They piled groups of corpses together, poured fuel on them and ignited them. One after another fire piles were set up on the battlefield, and they could see vaguely.
Go, like a sea of flowers spreading to the entire land.
After carrying the wounded and repairing the damaged carriages, the hunters successfully cleaned up the flesh and blood stuck in the wheels after simple preparations. They looked in a hurry, as if they were ready to leave and rush to the next battlefield.
They are like a group of night chasers, never stopping.
"Friends, what is poetry to you?"
Irwin asked everyone, including Asmodeus, but he did not expect people's answers, because Irwin had already found his own answer, and his answer did not apply to everyone. They needed to chase it themselves, and then
Irwin looked at Bologg and made one last request to Bologg.
"You know? Boluogo, in fact, I have never liked you very much."
Irwin struggled to stand up, his figure swaying. When Irwin stood up completely, Boluogo noticed the terrible condition of Irwin. The wound on his abdomen had expanded several times without knowing when, and the wound
The blood inside seemed to have drained away, and even the internal organs had disappeared, leaving only dark red flesh and vague white bones.
Narrative is not without cost. This power has been consuming Irwin's life force. He stumbled towards Bologg, and then he stretched out his hands. The nails on his fingers had disappeared, and some were just bloody pieces.
Irwin put his hands on Bolog's shoulders, then moved little by little, holding Bolog's face. The stickiness of flesh and blood stained his face, but Bolog was not disgusted. Irwin forced him to look at it.
Own.
"Yes, I even hate you a little. Without these experiences, I would never make friends with someone like you."
Irwin organized his words, "You are good at everything, but you are too rigid and cold. I can't see any romantic color in you... I can't stand this."
Boluogo smiled helplessly. Even at this time, Irwin was still complaining about this kind of thing.
"Boluogo, you should become more interesting and romantic, so that you will understand many truths and encounter many interesting things...many things you have never seen before, and you will fall in love with someone, or be loved by someone. All of this will make your long life extremely exciting."
Boluogo replied sadly, "You made your life a mess, and in the end you educated me?"
Irwin laughed heartily, with bloodshot teeth in his teeth, and then coughed violently. He seemed to be unable to stand still, and Boluogo grabbed his arms in time to prevent him from falling.
"Brogo, you are a nice guy. If you could become more romantic, I think you would be a great poet."
Irwin pleaded, "Well poet, help me, help me one last time."
"What do you want me to do?"
Boluogo promised Irwin, Irwin deserves to do this, this is an extremely precious friendship.
Irving paused, straightened his back, and stood up straight. In this regard, he was as stubborn as Bologg.
"I have written a happy enough ending to this story, and now, poet, this will be the first poem you write.
Please write my ending.
A romantic and poetic ending that belongs to me."
Irwin squeezed Bolog's hands tightly and smeared blood on his palms. Bologg felt an indescribable feeling for a moment. The remaining power was given to him, and everything he said would be transformed. Make reality.
"No...Irwin, no..."
"Listen to me, Bologg," Irwin explained patiently, "There has to be someone who will pass on the story, but that person doesn't have to be me."
Irwin said happily, "I have everything here, and there is nothing left to chase."
Borlog heard Erwin's whisper.
"The pen is already in your hand, what are you waiting for? Poet."
In an instant, thousands of emotions surged in Boluogo's heart. It had been a long time since he had had this feeling of tears filling his eyes. It seemed as if the warm sun was shining on him, and it seemed as if a choir was singing and murmuring.
"Irvin Fleischer."
Burlogo said Irwin's name in a trembling voice, summarizing his life.
"As you yourself desire, you are indeed a noble person. Whether in times of crisis or at the end of your life, you abide by your own principles."
Irwin let go of Boluogo's hand with satisfaction. He felt that he was young again and had inexhaustible strength all over his body.
The wound on his abdomen was healing, and the wrinkles on his cheeks were gradually smoothing out. His cloudy eyes became clear again, and his gray hair turned into dazzling gold. Youth once again favored Irvin.
At the same time, along with Boluogo's narration, the typewriter that had been silent for a long time and covered in blood started up again, writing the last remnants.
"You are a great poet and an unyielding warrior. You did not admit defeat to any party in the devil's bet... They were unable to defeat you from the beginning."
It was as if a ghost was tapping the keys, printing everything Bologo said on the page.
"We won all this, the hunters eradicated the darkness, they praised your righteous deeds and recognized your character.
At the end of your life...at the end of your story, you bid your friends a warm farewell."
Burlogo said and gave Irvin a hug. It had been a long time since he hugged someone so forcefully, as if he didn't want him to leave. Then Irvin walked towards Palmer. For this fanatical fan, Erwin
Wen shook hands with him firmly.
Irwin asked, "Do you still like my gift?"
Palmer nodded and replied, "Great."
Irwin looked at Aimu again and signaled to her. The aperture in Aimu's eyes shrank in response.
Warm morning light casts from the far end of the horizon, and the light outlines the outline of the earth, as if inlaid with gold threads.
Irwin turned around and tried to look for Asmodeus, but there were only four of them left in the big library, and she had left at some point.
For this reason Irwin shouted into nothingness, "I will miss you."
"I will miss you."
The echo came from the void, as always.
Boluogo said softly, "You walk towards the sea of flowers."
Irwin left the big library. With every step he took, he became younger and younger. He crossed the piles of ruins and corpses vigorously, strode into the beautiful sea of flowers, and walked through them again.
The loud whistle sounded again from the Dawn, and the hunters were ready to leave. This heavy armed train started to move slowly. It started very slowly, and the blood of monsters oozed between the wheels. Someone leaned forward
He got out of the locomotive, waved his hat vigorously to Irwin, and urged him.
"You step and run as fast as a cheetah."
Irwin ran towards the starting Dawn. He ran faster and faster, picking up pieces of petals and following behind him, but he still couldn't catch up with the train. The roaring steel beast would not wait for anyone.
.
"You find that your body is getting lighter and lighter, and you are running faster and faster."
Boluogo took a deep breath and spoke with all his strength.
"Suddenly, you flew up."
Blue feathers grew out of Irwin's armpits. As he flapped his hands, he rose into the air. Then more and more feathers covered Irwin's body, turning him into a brilliant blue.
"Irwin, you have become a bird, a bird with blue feathers."
The birds flew over the sea of flowers and mountains of corpses, passed through the heavy fog, flapped their wings, and followed the Dawn.
"Fly! Fly!"
You caught up with them and got into the story you wrote."
The hunter leaned out and raised his hand high, and the bird slowly fell down and stepped on his palm.
"You leave with your characters... and begin another endless journey."
The Dawn disappeared into the golden morning light, and Bologg also stopped narrating at this moment. He could no longer see the flying bird.
"This is your end."
Burlogo suddenly felt an unbearable feeling of exhaustion, and his whole body almost collapsed. He looked at his friends, and everyone heard the sound like breaking glass. The sound gradually became denser, like
A glacier is collapsing.
Weird cracks spanned the limits of space and were everywhere in the broken reality. The moment the ether concentration reached its peak, it quickly declined, welcoming the final collapse.
Absolute darkness fell, and morning light emerged again.
When Boluogo regained his sight, he was in the large library. The large library in front of him had not collapsed, and there was not even any trace of a battle. There were no weird vines on the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. Even further outside the Daisy Castle,
The sea of daisies swayed quietly.
There was no blood, no corpses, no devastated battlefields, not even any trace of the Dawn's arrival.
Boluogo was a little confused, as if everything he had just experienced was just an illusion.
Is it really an illusion?
Borrowgo found a twelve-sided die on Irwin's workbench. With a feeling of trepidation, Borrowgo picked it up and dropped it again.
Nothing abnormal happened, it was just an ordinary twelve-sided dice.
When Bologg wanted to pick up the dice, he noticed that the dice fell next to a neat stack of manuscripts. Seeing the words on it, Bologg's eyes trembled. Then he saw the familiar typewriter.
It is extremely neat, without any trace of blood. It is placed in the center of the workbench, with a page full of text inserted on it.
After reading the text on the page, after a long silence, Boluogo reached out his hand with a sad heart, gently pressed his fingertips on the metal keys, and tried his best to write the last stroke of this story.
The crisp metallic sound echoed in the large library, and a fresh line of dark text was printed at the end of the page.