You will also encounter Shura Field after exile [Greek Mythology]

War creates slaves.

The king would put chains around the captive's neck, and then, with his wife and children chained behind him, they would be driven away to a foreign land to be toiled to death.

Some unfortunate people also become slaves.

For example, the boat capsized in the sea, or a family member got a terrible disease.

"Aristocrats may not always be nobles, but they lack a sense of crisis." Typhon said, the long and narrow pupils in his scarlet eyes dilated slightly due to lack of light, "What a clumsy creature this is."

"Is that so?" Prometheus said softly, lying on the ground.

"So we all lost." Typhon said, "Your humans, and my monsters, lost to the gods. Let's just squat here, and Zeus can hold a banquet on the mountain."

"I don't like banquets either." The girl whispered, her voice indifferent.

"What do you like?" Typhon said unhappily, "I don't think you like anything but chaos."

"How can I be so crazy." The girl turned her head, expressing what kind of strange prejudice do you have against me.

"Do you have a lover?" Typhon asked.

"You are so boring." Prometheus said softly, "If you are so boring, why don't you find something to entertain yourself."

"Is there anything I can do here?" Typhon said, "Thanks to you."

"How about I teach you mathematics?" Prometheus suggested irresponsibly.

"I can still fall asleep, thank you." Typhon turned his head, expressing that he really wanted to change his cellmate, Zeus thought he was too comfortable, and sent this guy down to harm himself.

After a while, he turned around, "Math is math, don't you have anything else interesting to share?"

The girl seemed to think for a while.

She picked up a small piece from the ground, it was black, and it shattered to pieces when she broke it lightly.

"Interesting stuff." She said softly, "Does this count?"

Typhon's eyes were drawn, "What is this?"

"Probably it can be called strength." The girl rubbed it gently with her fingertips, trying to squeeze it into a ball.

"Speaking of which, do you love your children or not?" Typhon asked, "You can give them strength, look at my children."

Prometheus thought for a moment.

"Maybe, but I think maybe they'll go a little further."

"It's some kind of gamble," she said softly.

"Hurry up." The man waved his hand and shouted, and Moros took the hand of the person in front, "We turned over the mountain today and there was a plain, we hid in the mountain on the other side from there, if we want to chase again , it will be troublesome."

"Have they explored the way?" Apollo asked softly, "I feel like I saw something bad."

"I actually saw it too." Poseidon echoed.

"You're not allowed to talk about my crow's mouth anymore." Apollo suddenly warned, remembering something.

"Lord Moros, you can use your power." Poseidon said anxiously, "Now that things have come to this point, I think we should find a way to escape."

Moros looked down at his fingers.

"I promise not to use it anymore." The black-haired, black-eyed young man said solemnly.

Why is this guy so annoying, Poseidon couldn't help thinking, but Moros had a high status, and he was the god in charge of the supreme destiny, so it was a good thing to be so strict.

The man walked past Moros and climbed up a rock.

Even humans.

I also saw the so-called ominous premonition.

"What is this?" Poseidon couldn't help asking, "This river?"

Across the plain lay a river in front of them.

It is a big river.

And yet it was peaceful.

Because it is covered with a thin layer of ice under the severe winter cold.

This is Troy, and the climate is much colder than that of Greece.

On colder winter days, the river freezes over.

However, there was a strange realization on the man's face.

Apollo felt that these people were very strange. They followed this man like a flock of sheep following their leader. There was a river in front of them, but they were still walking forward.

"I saw soldiers." A man ran up panting and reported.

"Today we must cross the river." The man said calmly, "Go logging."

"It's too late to build the bridge," said Apollo.

"It doesn't need that much." The man said, "I have a way."

This is a middle-aged man who can be called ugly. His body is full of gnarled scars, his teeth are crooked, his face is blackened, and he looks weather-beaten.

"I'm a mountain dweller over there." The man said, "I'm considered a foreigner here."

"I was brought here three years ago, my family, that was my son."

He raised his finger and pointed to a young man in the distance, and then pointed to the woman beside him carrying something, "That's my wife."

"I also have two twin daughters," he said, "but once I got here, I was separated and we were sent to the quarry, and they seem to have a better price, if you can find them."

Moros looked at his face in bewilderment.

"Just tell them, we must work hard to survive." He said softly, "And me, Dad has always loved them."

"Okay." Moros promised softly.

He vaguely felt something.

"That's enough," the man called to those around him. "We'll cross the river before the soldiers catch up."

"These are not enough." Apollo said softly, he counted roughly, and the sun god who is proficient in architecture said that it was too little.

"What can you do?" he asked.

The man glanced at the river, turned around, and the red spikes on the soldier's armor were already visible.

"It is obviously too late to repair the bridge now."

The man raised a hand, "We need a hundred people." He shouted, "Jump down and build the bridge yourself."

He is crazy.

The three gods couldn't help but have such a thought in their hearts.

"Why would they agree to such a crazy idea." Moros whispered.

"Because I went down first." The man said calmly.

"No need for the old, the weak, the sick, and the disabled. It's useless to go down." He shouted, regained his senses and pointed to the mountains opposite him. "Just cross the river and run straight in."

"There is no fork in the road," he shouted.

"No one will agree." Poseidon whispered.

However, in the next second, people acted silently. The young and middle-aged man hugged his children and touched their heads, but turned around and left without saying anything.

"You will die if you jump down." Moros said softly.

"Of course, young people, you may not know that when a person dies, he will hold on to the things in his hand." The man said flatly, "This is absolutely fine."

Because when he was a child, his elders used this method so that he would not be a slave.

"Count me in," said Moros, who turned and entered the line.

The river water in winter is very cold, so cold that people can't help shivering, they pieced together a road in the calm river water, silent and indifferent.

Apollo stepped on someone's shoulder, a feeling suddenly passed in his heart, he didn't have time to test his breathing and heartbeat, but he still knew that he was dead.

It is said that when a person is frozen to death, there will be a smile on his face.

The old, the weak, the sick and the disabled are left, and the youngest and strongest are allowed to die.

What a strange idea.

How stupid, petty and irrational human beings are.

Poseidon never thought that humans would cross a river like this, he knew they could row boats, they could swim, but he had never seen such a way.

What a way.

But something passed through his mind, he had to admit, it was called fear.

For the first time in his life, he felt such fear. When he faced Typhon, when he faced Cronus, he never felt such a feeling in his heart.

But now he feels it.

If they fight with human beings, they may easily drive them to the end of the mountain, and when they are at the end of the mountain, the gods will face such a group of lunatics.

Outright lunatic.

What kind of monster did that guy create?

The two gods left the group carefully, and then hid on the mountain. The soldiers quickly chased after them. They seemed to feel frightened when they saw the pontoon bridge. They poked the people inside with their spears, and they let go one after another. He raised his hand and floated up.

Then they arrested the only survivor. That Moros guy hasn't escaped yet. Is there water in his head?

The black-haired God of Fate was bound by the soldiers, looking down at the river.

Soldiers found the man's body and cut off his head.

They picked up his head and looked at the mountains on the other side.

"Can't catch up." One of them asked.

"Where can I find this?" said another.

"Do you know?" The soldier pushed Moros, "Where is their destination?"

"I don't know." Moros said honestly.

His black eyes had no brilliance, as dark as a black rainy sky.

"Listen, don't you know them?" the soldier asked.

"I don't know much," Moros said.

"You seem to have received a good education." The soldier sighed, "How can you do such a rebellious thing, you will be beheaded when you go back."

"Is that so?" Moros asked.

"Don't you know that if you try to escape, your feet will be cut off?" the soldier asked, "If you are serious, you will be beheaded."

So those without feet.

Moros shook his head lightly, "I haven't heard of it."

"You are from a rich family." The soldier couldn't help asking, "What's the matter, did you have bad luck, or did you commit a crime?"

"No." Moros said softly.

"I think it's good that I'm here," said the dark-haired god, turning his eyes to look at the man's head.

There was an inscrutable smile on the face of the deceased.

And death cannot rule everything, he couldn't help but think of this sentence.

"Did you only catch one traitor?" The king yelled angrily, "Okay, hang that head out for me."

The man's head was hung on a high pole.

Moros stood in the center of the hall. The king looked normal, not much different from the slaves, except that his robe was purple and his hair and beard were cleaner.

"You?" the king couldn't help asking, "What is your background, you voluntarily sold yourself as a slave, and then helped them escape?"

"You came here on purpose to be a spy?" The king patted the armrest.

"No." The black-haired youth said.

His expression is so frank that people can see that he is not lying.

"Then why did you sell yourself as a slave?" asked the king.

"Because." The young man seemed to be in some kind of confusion, "ah, because I think this is better."

"Don't you think it's funny to make me angry?" demanded the king.

At this time, an overseer in the quarry whispered something in the king's ear.

Although he was whispering, Moros could hear clearly. What he said to the king was that this man's wounds would heal soon, and he probably also had divine blood.

The king's face changed slightly.

"Who are you?" asked the king.

Moros thought for a while, "I'm not technically a human being," he decided.

"Are you testing my patience?" the king scolded. "Even if you are a god, you must have been sent by the great Zeus to serve me."

"I'll teach you a lesson for him."

"No." Moros said patiently, "I am indeed not sent by Zeus."

"I barely knew him," he said.

Is this guy out of his mind?

Before he had an attack, the sun's light fell on the prescribed position, and the city announced that night had arrived and dinner should begin.

The king decided to finish dinner first, and he raised a hand with a gorgeous ring, "Come here, hang this guy next to that dead man."

Moros was taken out by two soldiers, he raised his head, the sun was about to set, and indeed it was time for dinner.

When he first came to this city, he also saw someone hanging on a high pole in the square.

The soldier tied his thumb with a hemp rope and pulled him up inch by inch. Moros felt some kind of pain that seemed to tear his hand whole.

"Young man, you shouldn't be so arrogant when you talk to the king." The soldier said, "But the king doesn't seem to intend to kill people, otherwise you will be dead by this time."

Moros nodded.

He turned his head and saw the head hanging on a high pole. The sun was behind him, as if with an invisible crown, and the stars had begun to reveal their figures, and the purple night invaded from the east.

He took a deep breath of air and smelled the smell of food in the evening wind. People's lives are still going on, no matter what happens, it will still go on.

The king is seated at the table. Today's dinner is still very delicious and fresh. Recently, he likes to let a pair of twin sisters dress here. They are very well-behaved and very understanding. It is much easier to use than two random slaves together. .

He stretched out his hand and flipped over the grilled, fragrant and oily meat. A girl was cutting the grilled meat for him, and the grease dripped on the tray, making a pleasant sizzling sound.

However, in the next moment, the rabbit rose and the falcon fell.

The girl passed the handle of the knife and tried to stab him in the neck. The king, who had experienced many battles and was extremely strong, tilted his head slightly to one side, and easily dodged the girl's limp hand, and he choked him. girl's neck.

"With this ability, do you want to kill me?"

"Is there anything I'm sorry for you?" The king said with great interest, he picked her up, let her feet off the ground, his face was red, and he tried hard to break the king's fingers, but to no avail.

"Do you have any accomplices to instigate you?" the king cursed, "such as the fellow who was hanged in the square today."

However, he suddenly felt a burst of heat from behind, and he turned his head halfway, and saw her twin sister holding a dagger that had been taken from his waist, and stabbed it into his back so hard that the handle was gone. go in.

With a force in his hand, he crushed the girl's throat in an instant.

And the girl looked into his eyes and said that I didn't think I would succeed.

He turned blindly, trying to grab her sister, but the rapid loss of blood blinded his eyes, and he fell to the ground.

The guards rushed in quickly.

He wanted to kill this ignorant slave.

However, standing in front of her was a black-haired young man.

They felt vaguely familiar.

Isn't this the slave who was hanged outside by the king before supper.

How could he be here.

This is a very handsome young man. Although he is wearing a slave's off-white clothes, there is an awe-inspiring and inviolable aura surging from his body at some point.

His black hair is smooth and sharp.

His face was as pale as frost and snow.

He raised a hand and placed it in front of the girl.

"Alecto."

"Megera."

"Tihiphon."

He calmly read three names, and then three strands of black mist quickly rose up behind him and condensed into shape.

"Lord Moros." The three goddesses had long and disheveled hair, sharp nails, and pale faces. They bowed their heads and knelt at the young man's feet.

These are the Furies, the craziest and most terrifying gods in the world.

And Lord Moros.

The god in charge of fate.

His power is bottomless, and his position is extremely revered.

He moved his thin lips lightly.

"This revenge, in the name of Moros, the God of Destiny, I allow it."

I am here to allow the weak to break the neck of the strong.

The weapons of the guards fell down involuntarily, but through the black mist of Nemesis, they saw that the lord turned his head, he seemed to be thinking about something, and then showed a blunt smile.

"Your father asked me to tell you." Moros thought hard about what the man asked him to bring, "Say he loves you."

He walked over, picked up the corpse of the girl lying on the ground, stretched out his hand, gently stroked her eyes, and walked out.

The author has something to say: Little angels, please don’t care about historical and geographical issues. I made them up. The prototype of the bridge crossing the river took place during the Swiss War of Independence~

顺便希望能有多多的评论～～感谢在2021-08-2712:27:53~2021-08-2816:52:17期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angels who threw mines: 5 fights for all the good things in the world;

Thanks to the little angel of irrigation nutrient solution: zhy20 bottles;

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!