Angel on earth

The cavalry squad from the rear had arrived, and in the pouring rain, "Arnold" was still holding the hideous corpse with its guts pierced, arched its body to block the rain, and tried hard to warm it with its own body.He is not the proud and neurotic doctor like Chalek, he is just a young man who begged his brother to live and flee with him.

Mikhail suddenly discovered that the coat on Jeremy's mother should belong to the dead man. Jeremy and his mother rode away on the captain's horse, and he didn't even know if the man on the horse was reliable.Carriages are not suitable for fleeing, this is not a foreign country with many churches, this is the Mithra Dynasty, and he, Mikhail, is the most conspicuous one among the fugitives.After all, he still has selfish intentions, "Arnold" must go with him, the most dangerous but the safest.

The young knight picked up two long spears from the mud and walked with heavy steps, like a heavily armored war horse trampling the forest road, step by step faster and faster, passing the pair of brothers hugging each other in the mud. , Facing a whole 15-man cavalry team charged.

There is only the vast and boundless Gospel forest between heaven and earth, a pair of brothers who live and die, a cavalry squad ready to support the church’s secret operations at any time, and Mikhail Kupala, whose body was poured with hot blood. Washed away by the icy rain, for the first time in his life, he punched the church soldiers with all his strength, his calf sank into the mud, and the horse in front of him flew upside down with the cavalry, and he was dead before that.

No team of just fifteen ordinary people with cold weapons could defeat the Sun Knight who was going all out.Mikhail ended the battle without taking any damage. He spun the spear twice in his hand and nailed the last person to the ground.He turned around and saw "Arnold" biting the back collar of the corpse, dragging it to the car with one hand, his dislocated left arm dangling in the air, dripping blood.Mikhail walked over, hugged the two people from behind, put them into the third car, and took his shoulders, he was completely unaware that there was someone else there.

Mikhail saw the girl wrapped in a cloak in the car. Beside her were eight containers of different sizes, including a wooden jewelry box, a gold water jug, and glazed porcelain from Iris.The young man fell on the floor, put his brother beside the girl, and ran into the rain to find firewood.Mikhail simply didn't know whether he was sober or completely crazy. He had prepared eight urns for the eight dead people to carry with him for escape, but he wanted to find enough dry firewood in the heavy afternoon rain.

Mikhail never felt that his ability to change the weather when he couldn't control it was so important. He didn't know which god gave him the power to shatter, boil, and regenerate in every blood vessel. He jumped into the rain and hugged that Edwards , crying loudly.The young man stood there blankly, suddenly raised his hand and swiped forward twice, then lowered his arm again.

There is only broken air in his throat:

"...Harry."

"Arnold" didn't care who he was or who he was.In the history of the church that Mikhail knew, the beginning of rebellion was the death of his parents. David, the king of war, knocked on the gate of Emerald City with the head of Roberto Edwards, and set the whole castle on fire when he left. , the blood of the apostate soaked every step.

After crying twice, Mikhail ordered himself to wake up, sniffled his nose, and said sternly: "Kristen. Kristin is still alive. I will take you to find Kristin, and we will protect her. You have to Protect your sister."

"Arnold" turned his head numbly, and under the wet brown hair sticking to his forehead was a pair of burning emerald eyes.

"...fire..." He opened his mouth, drank some rainwater indiscriminately, looked at Mikhail and said, "fire."

Mikhail let him go gently: "I'll help you. It'll be fine soon, don't turn around yet."

During the day's torrential rain and days of nightmares, the young knight looked like an angel or holy spirit descending from the sky to save the world. "Arnold" couldn't help believing his words, and stared at the woods in front of him with his neck straightened, as if his enemy and his Christine were there, and he had the confidence not to bow his head again.

There was also a fence on the top of the prison van, neither shade nor rain. It seemed that the church didn't care much about the lives of these prisoners, and deliberately made them suffer.Mikhail lifted the floor of the fourth car and buckled it on top of the previous car, and burned eight corpses in turn. Eight piles of damp ashes and bones were arranged neatly in front of the urn.He didn't put them in. Although these eight jars seemed to be collected with difficulty, he felt that "Arnold" had already allocated the posthumous residence for his relatives and friends.

He put his wrist on the young man's shoulder and helped him back to the front of the car.The young man was silent for a long time, rummaging through the remaining bones and teeth to identify, spit out eight names one by one from his chapped lips, and thin blood flowed down the sleeve into the ashes.

Mikhail carved beautiful ancient Norman characters on the urn he pointed to, Patricia was 15 years old in the glazed porcelain from Iris, Harry Edwards in the rosewood jewelry box, maybe It was their mother's jewelry box.

Mikhail dried "Arnold" and the cloak that wrapped Patricia, "Arnold" packed urns and gold in the suitcases of the cavalry, and Mikhail rode the silent Master Edwards The horses, fully clothed, galloped against the wind, rain, clouds, dead branches and fallen leaves, and the chasing soldiers of the church. "Arnold" sat in front of him with a suitcase in his arms. He stepped on the stirrups and clamped the horse's belly to sit firmly. He held Master Edwards who was actually several years older than him in his right hand, providing him with dryness and warmth at all times. He was holding a long gun, and six enemy weapons were strapped to his back.The rain and the sinking sun came oncoming. At this moment, even if the Holy Son came to Mikhail in person, he would have to pierce His heart with the spear in his hand before he died.

About two hours later, they made their way out of the torrential rain and it was dark.The wound on the young man's face was white with blisters, and his skin showed a sickly blush.He had a fever and was staring dazedly, but refused to fall asleep desperately, staring at a pair of green eyes with clear whites and dilated pupils, staring at something unknown.Mikhail killed the war horse and burned the traces on a small road, and rushed into an abandoned hut with the young man and the box in his arms.

This is a village that has been abandoned for many years during the war. The villagers took almost everything with them when they left, and it didn't seem so urgent.The beginning of the third jihad was the death of the "God's Book" Sihejia. The civil war of the saints almost tore the church apart, but in the end it was still necessary to give the believers in the territory a little confidence and not treat them too harshly.But it has been more than ten years, and this is the only house that is closer to them and the roof leaks are not so serious.

Mikhail breathed out the wind, swept the ground, put the young man holding the box on the ground, turned around and took off his armor and threw it in the corner, and found several decayed wooden cabinets, dried them with spells, piled them up and lit a fire.The drizzled autumn night was very cold, and Mikhail could find the young man with a fever through his armor. It was unbelievable how they survived so many nights from Wakefield to here.

The roof leaked rain, and the earth wall leaked wind. Mikhail carefully leaned against the base of the wall and used magic to plug the gaps. The larger leaks had to be plugged with thatch, while quietly observing "Arnold".

The young man burned badly, his face was pale, but he stubbornly opened his eyes and looked at the fire. He held the suitcase in his arms, and his fingertips stained with blood and dirt protruded from his sleeves, carefully catching a bit of fabric.After a while, he retracted his knees and lowered his head to bury it. His brown hair was hanging limply on his head, revealing a wound that had been washed white by the water.After drying, the cuffs were dirty and hard, and the filthy blood fell down with difficulty, mixed with the yellow water that flowed out when the wound festered.

Mikhail took off the breastplate, washed it, took the rainwater and handed it to him, and lightly touched his forearm.The young man raised his head in a daze, took a drink from his hand, and said after a while, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Mikhail hung the breastplate on the bonfire, raised his hands closer, and said softly, "Please let me treat your wound."

When he approached, the pair of black pupils of the young man dilated suddenly, and he looked up at him dully and blankly.

Mikhail thought of Arnold's gray-white pupils, stopped his movements, and looked at these soft green eyes for a long time.The whites of their eyes were bloodshot, but the green irises were clear and soft, and a pair of pupils expanded and contracted in a daze, and they probably couldn't see Mikhail clearly at all.The young man also stared at him quietly, he thought the other party was looking at the dusty air.

The young man licked his lips, and shrank his hands subconsciously into his sleeves.Mikhail knelt on one side obstinately, watching him motionless.

"I don't believe you." After a while, the young man almost fell asleep and then woke up. He whispered as if he suddenly found Mikhail there. The high fever and illness made his voice hoarse and soft, " but……"

"But you have no other choice." Mikhail's tone was very gentle, even a little cautious, no matter whether "Arnold" looked at him or not, he looked at "Arnold" seriously, "I'm here to save you. Don't believe it It's okay with me... You're badly hurt, I'm going to kill you, you can't fight back, can you? Relax... No one will catch up. Think of Christine, you have to live and heal to save her right?"

The young man was so tired that he didn't have the energy to look up at him, and he didn't even have the energy to think about what bullshit he was talking about. He hung his head on his shoulders and stared blankly at the fire, with obvious "why" and "you are a member of the church?" ".

After a long stalemate, he slowly put down the box in his arms and stretched out his hand from his sleeve.

He has only six fingers on both hands.

Mikhail was stiff and trembling with fear. "Arnold" didn't even dare to look at him, he thought vaguely that maybe "Arnold" didn't expect anything from him at all, but just showed him the wound and all that he couldn't do.