The iron curtain-like lead-gray clouds disappeared, replaced by a blue sky. The sea was no longer calm, but with the sudden rise of the breeze, it set off waves. They were restless together, making the rhythm of nature reverberate.
In the calm, ordinary and normal world, many people are tired of the boring life, but now it seems that this kind of boredom is so precious.
On this island near the edge of the Silent Sea, amid the white snow, Shrike should have enjoyed the ecstasy of escaping from death, but now he had a more painful choice waiting for him.
"What did you say?"
Shrike held the empty silver revolver and looked up at Floki who stood up.
"A choice, a cruel and difficult choice."
Floki looked in the direction of the Silent Sea.
Countless wooden debris and some floating corpses were floating on the sea outside the island. These were the people who escaped with them. Unfortunately, they were the only ones who survived.
"A choice that goes against benevolence, justice and morality, a choice that turns a good person into a bad person."
Floki continued talking. He walked to the scarred longship and didn't know what he was looking for. Only the three of them survived in the entire Narwhal, but the danger was not over yet. They were in this desolate and lonely sea.
On the edge, if no one discovers them, they will still die.
"On the other side of this island, there is a small village. It is a base where I often stay after returning from the Silent Sea. Only when we get there can we truly be safe."
After many explorations of the Silent Sea, Floki has figured out the distribution of most of the islands near the Silent Sea, and he has also established contact with the villages on it as a base for his return.
Floki rummaged through the longship and found two large bags with the symbol of the Perpetual Pump on them. They were supply bags prepared by the purification agency for this operation. Shrike looked at these things with a faint uneasiness rising in his heart.
rise.
"But the problem is that this place is far away from that small village. With our foot strength and the heavy snow environment, we will still have to walk for several days even if we are not injured, let alone in this condition."
Floki carried two supply bags in front of Shrike. As early as when he boarded the Narwhal, Floki had made all preparations. He asked for these supply bags from Lancelot.
He placed it on his longboat as a lifeboat in case of emergency.
It can become a lifeboat for Lancelot and others, and it can also become Floki's. He has long thought about the plan after the failure of usurping the Narwhal, but it is a pity that the storm caused by the sea snake is too great, and in the end he only has this
Two remain.
"How to measure a person's true worth."
Floki suddenly said loudly, with a solemn expression.
"Then let him face death and see the choice he makes."
As if he was praying, he lowered his head and looked at the shrike before long, and placed one of the two supply packages in front of the shrike.
"The time has come to make a decision, Shrike."
Floki said as he picked up another supply bag and walked towards the dense forest. The branches were covered with frost, like a frozen prison.
Shrike struggled hard. He wanted to stand up, catch up with Floki, and strangle him to death with his own hands, but he couldn't do it. He turned over with great effort, saw his bleeding thigh, and saw the man lying on his back.
The third survivor beside me.
"Lan...Lancelot!"
Shrike gave up chasing Floki for a moment and rushed over in horror. Lancelot was in much worse condition than Shrike. He himself was shot by Floki and went through this long process.
The bumps and immersion of sea water.
Stroking Lancelot's body, the temperature was cold and the muscles began to become a little stiff. Shrike patted Lancelot's face hard, and the pupils on the pale face were closed tightly, as if he was dead.
"No...no no! You can't do this! Wake up! Lancelot! Don't fall asleep!"
Shrike called Lancelot's name repeatedly, but Lancelot didn't respond. Lying on his chest, you could still hear the faint heartbeat. This tenacious soul was not dead yet.
"no no……"
Shrike felt like the world was spinning. He grabbed a handful of snow and slapped it on his face, using the coldness to wake himself up.
【A bad choice.】
Floki's voice kept echoing in his ears. Shrike made some decision. He suddenly raised his head and looked into the cold forest.
"Floki!"
Shrike roared at the top of his lungs.
Floki seemed to have guessed Shrike's reaction. He did not go far, but sat on a big rock next to the dense forest. He wiped off the snow and sat on it to recover his strength.
Shrike looked at this damn Viking, his soul was struggling, and finally said in great pain.
"Help me! Floki! Help me! He is dying."
Floki looked at Shrike quietly. He said nothing or did nothing, as if he was admiring his despair and struggle.
The shrike clenched his fists, his knuckles turned white, and his nails dug into his flesh. Sure enough, his request for help was not answered, and it only added to the humiliation.
What should be done? What else can be done? By the way, the supply pack, there are emergency medical supplies and food there. These things may be able to help Lancelot. As long as he reaches that village, he can survive.
Shrike thought about it and reached out to grab the supply bag left by Floki, and at this moment Floki's voice sounded.
"You can't save him. He lost too much blood and his death is already doomed."
Floki walked down the big stone with a hateful smile on his face.
"It's a long way from the village. This supply bag is only enough for one person...it's not even enough for one person. After all, the road is long and there's wind and snow," Floki said, "If you take it
If you use it on Lancelot, the result will be that his death will be delayed by a few minutes, or even dozens of minutes, and you will also freeze to death here in a few days due to lack of supplies."
"Shut up!"
Shrike roared, and he stood up with difficulty. He grabbed the supply bag with one hand, and put Lancelot's shoulder on his body with the other hand. He supported it and stepped forward with difficulty.
"Abandon Lancelot, walk out of here with hatred, and take the story here back to Inverg, or should you uphold ridiculous morality and try to take him away with you...that is, die here together?" Flo
Ji continued, "Actually, you can try this. Maybe you meet a hunter in the village? So both of you will be saved."
"Want to take a bet? Shrike!"
"Shut up! Shut up!"
Shrike cursed Floki repeatedly. He dragged his injured thigh and laboriously led Lancelot forward. He couldn't think of anything else for a while, and all that was left was to move forward.
Go forward, find that village, and everyone can survive.
As if he couldn't feel the pain and fatigue on his body, Shrike carried Lancelot forward, stepping through the deep snow, and moved forward with difficulty.
"Shrike!"
Floki shouted again, and he raised his hand, which seemed to be holding something, and then Floki placed the thing on the big stone where he was before.
This time Floki didn't stop any longer. He turned around and walked into the depths of the jungle. His condition was much better than that of Shrike, not to mention that Floki didn't have any burden. His pace was fast and he was gone in the blink of an eye.
Disappeared from Shrike's sight.
There were footprints left by Floki on the snow, and Shrike followed the footprints closely. He didn't know the way, so he could only follow Floki like this.
Cold, fatigue, pain... negative forces shrouded the mortal's will one after another, making the shrike crazy and desperate, until finally he was completely numb. After finally waking up, the shrike's consciousness began to be in a trance again, and his vision became blurred.
, in order not to lose the direction, Shrike could only lower his head, look at Floki's footprints, and move forward with difficulty.
Move forward, keep moving forward.
The body also began to become numb. In the end, the shrike could no longer feel the existence of his own feet. He could only vaguely see that the two feet were still on his body, supporting his body and continuing to move forward.
go ahead.
Still moving forward, keep moving forward.
The progress began to become long, and for a long time Shrike tried hard to think about something to keep himself awake.
Why do you have to take Lancelot away? Why do you want to save him when you can't even save yourself? Is it just because he is your boss? Or is it like what Floki said, what kind of benevolence, justice and morality?
At work, they sustain the Shrike as a "righteous" person.
A man shrouded in glory and holiness, with a righteous heart.
Therefore, he could not give up Lancelot. He had to take him away, not only for justice in his heart, but also to save his life.
But...but the shrike was so tired that for a moment he wanted to die. As long as he died, he would no longer be troubled by these problems, and he would not run for other people's lives and justice...
As long as...die.
The figure that was struggling to advance paused, and the shrike fell down. Lancelot's body pressed on top of him. He fell into the snowdrift, almost invisible.
Ah...the long journey is finally over.
When death came, Shrike felt very calm and accepted it calmly.
No, it's not so much acceptance as it is escaping, escaping from these damn choices and reality, and that's the end of it.
Yes, that's how it ends.
Then... the Shrike stood up.
He looked at the shadow cast by his body under his feet with a look of astonishment on his face.
Why...why? Why did you stand up again?
Shrike didn't understand, he had no strength anymore, but he just stood up, then continued to step forward, his calm face began to twist, and finally he roared with hatred.
"Floki Wilgdason!"
A voice full of resentment and anger sounded, and the shrike bit his teeth and moved forward. His legs began to shake and tremble constantly, but he still continued to move forward.
Some things cannot be compromised! Some things cannot be forgotten! Some things cannot be forgiven!
Shrike can't die yet. He wants to take Lancelot out of here alive. He wants to bring the stories that happened here back to Inverg. He wants to sharpen his claws and bring bigger and more powerful weapons with him in the not-too-distant future.
The strong armored ship returned here to take revenge on the traitors.
Kill Floki Wilgdason and cut him into pieces!
The roaring anger gave Shrike unimaginable strength. He raised his head and strode forward with Lancelot on his shoulders, but then he stopped again, and all the anger and hatred in his heart disappeared in an instant.
A stone lay in front of the shrike, like a city wall.
This is the stone where Floki stopped before, and there are also his footprints walking into the dense forest nearby.
The shrike shuddered, and his body couldn't help but tremble. He slowly turned his head and looked back at the road behind him. Only then did he realize that he had worked hard for so long and crossed such a "long" distance. In fact, he only had
Just a little bit.
Lancelot slipped from Shrike's body and fell into the snow, and the supply bag also fell. Without these loads, Shrike felt more relaxed than ever before.
He slowly knelt down, as if his spine had been broken, lowered his head, and then roared feebly.
Shrike kept raising his fist and slamming it on the ground, wasting his energy to vent his anger and incompetence.
【A cruel choice.】
"ah--"
The shrike kept roaring like crazy, until he couldn't muster any more strength, he ended his ridiculous behavior and leaned against the stone with dull eyes.
"It's so ridiculous..."
Shrike muttered to himself.
This was not some knight, no shrike shouting the name of his enemy, and then walking out of this icy wasteland driven by hatred and rage.
This is the cruel reality. Anger and hatred cannot help Shrike. No matter how furious he is and how much he hates Floki, it cannot change the reality. What awaits Shrike is only a cold ending.
despair.
After a brief moment of hope, Shrike fell into deeper despair. He sat down and hugged his legs tightly, giving up the struggle.
He looked at Lancelot who fell in the snow. He was not dead yet, his chest was rising and falling slightly, and his breath was very weak. If he just let it go like this, Lancelot wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.
"At least... at least try my best."
Shrike said, he crawled towards Lancelot, picked up the supply bag that fell on the snow, and was about to open it, but Floki's words rang in his mind again.
If you use it for Lancelot, it will only delay Lancelot's death. The two of them can't get out of this desperate situation, but... But if you use it for yourself, if you give up Lancelot and leave alone
if……
Something was growing in the shadow of my heart. It whispered to the shrike, tempting the will of mortals.
"No...what if, you say so, Lancelot."
Shrike smiled sadly and opened the supply bag, preparing to use it for Lancelot.
After these successive battles and soaking in sea water, all the stitched wounds on Lancelot's body opened again and he continued to lose blood. Shrike also had wounds on his body, with metal fragments piercing his thigh. He was also losing blood, just because
Due to low temperature and numbness, the shrike cannot feel pain temporarily.
"What if, what if we meet a hunter who comes out to hunt? Yes, what if..."
Shrike muttered this over and over again, as if that would convince him of the lie.
"I will save you, Lancelot, I will, I will."
He continued to speak, but the movements of his hands stopped. Shrike lowered his head and looked at his trembling hands. He should have taken them apart and used the medicine on Lancelot, but no matter how hard Shrike tried,
His hands seemed to be frozen, unable to move.
Shrike knew exactly why.
He would die. If he gave it to Lancelot, he would die here, but Shrike couldn't watch Lancelot die here.
His expression was completely frozen, and he looked straight at his hands, feeling despicable and facing the test of death.
His breathing became a little rapid, and suddenly there was a flash of light in his eyes, and something was shining on the big stone.
The shrike crawled over, picked it up, and shined it in the sun.
A bullet.
A bullet left behind by Floki.
Shrike cunningly took out the silver revolver left by Floki and loaded the bullet into the cylinder.
He understood Floki's intention of leaving weapons and bullets.
Lancelot was still alive. He fell into a coma with a painful expression. The injuries on his body were tormenting him, dragging him to death little by little. Shrike didn't know how long this torture would last, but now he could help
Lancelot ended it all.
This will also make your own choices.
He raised the death knell and pointed the gun at Lancelot expressionlessly. His pupils were bloodshot, and there were blue blood vessels bulging on the edges of his eye sockets.
Just pull the trigger.
Just pull the trigger.
Just pull the trigger.
The pupils of the eyes are bloodshot, and there are blue blood vessels bulging on the edges of the eye sockets.
"sorry Sorry sorry."
The shrike broke down and cried, and he screamed and screamed.
He came to Lancelot's side in embarrassment, hugged the body that was gradually losing body temperature, and apologized continuously.
Dignity, morality, bottom line, ideals, mission... no matter what, they are tested in the face of death, forcing people to make choices.
After making a choice, the true value can be revealed and scrutinized.
After a long time, Shrike put down Lancelot. His eyes were blank, he opened his mouth in despair, and inserted the muzzle of the gun into his mouth.
With his finger on the trigger, Shrike raised his head and saw a patch of warm sunlight in his field of vision.
The bell rings.
…
The roars of the beasts continued, echoing in the small cabin, torturing Lan Jade's ears. She stabbed out the folding knife repeatedly and penetrated the demon's body through the cabin door. The minced meat and blood sprayed in along the cracks.
Dirty dirt splashed all over the blue jadeite.
Lan Jade felt that she was just a ball of rotten meat that had just been half digested. It stinked. Of course, what was more important than the smell was this damn situation.
"Wake up! Shrike! You're too sleepy!"
Lan Jade completely gave up her previous aloof image. In order to wake up the shrike, she kept thinking of words and phrases and threw them out one after another.
"What Lorenzo said can't be true! Are you really a fetishist? Are you planning to spend your life with that gun?"
It's all because of Shrike's damn fetish. He would hold the gun while sleeping, and Lan Jade couldn't pry his fingers away with one hand. If he had had that gun, Lan Jade's current situation might have been much better.
One of her hands was injured and she couldn't move, so she could only use the other hand to stab out the folding knife again and again. Under these continuous battles, the hatch was riddled with holes and became crumbling, as if it would be destroyed by the demons in the next second.
breakthrough.
When the time comes, Blue Jadeite and Shrike will be like sardines in a can, letting the monsters eat them. In such a small space, they don't even have room to hide and maneuver.
"You've been mumbling harsh words about 'For Whom the Bell Tolls' all day long, and now you're about to die in your sleep. Aren't you ashamed?"
In order to survive, Lan Jade kept cursing. In front of her, the hatch had turned into a bloody door. Because of the hatch, Lan Jade's stabs failed to hit the demons' vital parts, and the injuries were instead
Stimulating their animal nature, they bit into steel even more crazily.
"For whom the bell tolls..." Lan Jade said pessimistically, "Maybe it tolls for me."
Her mind was in a mess... In fact, Lan Jade felt that dying here was not bad. After Kestrel's brainwashing, Lan Jade also somewhat recognized Kestrel's reasoning.
Everyone lives in the time stolen from the hands of death. Every minute they live is earned with blood. Lan Jade has earned enough. She has a pretty good life. With her mediocre soul, she has made a lot of money.
All mankind has made some small contributions.
Although I feel a bit reluctant to let it go, it’s not a bad ending.
Lan Jade stopped attacking. She really didn't have the strength to stab out the folding knife. The folding knife itself became full of gaps. The edges of the hatch were cracking one by one. Lan Jade could see the demon's tongue spitting out along the gaps.
Come in, like a snake, licking the ground greedily.
"By the way...why do you call that gun a death knell?"
Lan Jade said, she stepped on the swimming tongue, heard a scream from behind the cabin door, and a smile appeared on her face.
The hatch in front of him began to shake, and more sharp claws crawled into the room along the cracked edge. The hatch began to twist, and some demons even squeezed half of their heads in, peeping at the blue jadeite with their scarlet eyes.
She picked up the folding knife again, preparing to die heroically.
Then...the hatch cracked and the bell rang!
Six heavy bullets grazed the edge of Blue Jade's body. They were like steel nails driven into the broken hatch, penetrating through flesh and bones, opening several huge blood holes in the demon's body, and the spray of blood was painted on the body.
The corridor is full.
"Why is it called Deathstroke?"
A tired voice sounded, and Lan Jade turned around in surprise, but she didn't find the shrike, but saw a scarred evil ghost. He leaned against the table, opened the drawer, and held the death knell in one hand, while the other hand was skillful.
He took out the bullets with names engraved on them from the drawer and loaded the cylinders.
"Because this gun witnessed my despair."
The evil ghost murmured to himself. He raised the death knell and pointed it at the demons behind the hatch.
"For whom the bell tolls!"
Pull the trigger and release all the accumulated hatred in the roaring gunfire.
"The bell tolls for me!"
Flesh and steel were shattered in the roaring bells, and the broken flesh and blood were intertwined, entangled with the wails and deaths of the demons, turning into scarlet snow dust, extending to the deepest part of memory, into the dust-covered shadows.
.
In the despair of those ten years ago, the evil ghost walked out of despair alone.