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

"Tomorrow morning, they will continue to fight again." Moros said softly, staring at the tent under the stars in the distance.

"Yes." The white-haired girl said in a low voice. She put her head on his shoulder and seemed to have fallen asleep, but she only responded to him vaguely.

She seems to have grown fond of sleeping.

Her white eyelashes are as slender as a butterfly's tentacles, trembling slightly in the wind, Moros couldn't help reaching out to touch it, feeling the elastic feeling, and he couldn't help but ooze some kind of secret and softness in his heart s things.

Only when he was with her could he feel alive.

This is his perception after a long journey.

Tartarus was obsessed with introducing him many years ago.

"Master Tartarus, with all due respect, you can solve your own problems first." The black-haired, black-eyed young man neatly arranged the golden thread and said.

"I have given up," said Tartarus, "and I have no wife, but I have sons."

"Typhon doesn't seem to think your lord is his father," Moros said sharply.

"Anyway, I pinched him out, he is my big brother."

Tartarus covered his ears to indicate that I don't listen and I don't listen, please stay away from what you said.

"You squeezed him out, but you didn't even teach him to walk." Moros looked up at the ceiling and thought for a while, "I remember you thought he couldn't survive, so you turned around and left."

"I don't blame me for this. Look at him, he doesn't conform to the basic law of biology at all. It's surprising that he can live like me." Tartaros said righteously.

His conscience is clean, without any dust.

"I think Nix is ​​pretty good, you see, he lives with us." Tartarus said, "and he is also beautiful, and it fits our style of painting very well."

"You can ask the Knicks to agree first." Moros said.

"It's because she didn't agree." Tartarus covered his mouth, and then he gave up on himself, "I came here to persuade you to be more positive."

"Send her some flowers or something." Tartarus plausibly said, "Look, Zeus, Poseidon's set, first be considerate, give gifts, and then clean up the person who looks like a dog, not afraid No women."

"I don't need a woman." Moros replied after thinking for a while.

"Women don't need you either." Tartarus couldn't help but said as he sat on his table, "But you can't go on like this."

Moros hung the straightened gold thread on the crossbar. He seemed to be feeling a little thirsty. He picked up the silver jug ​​and poured himself a glass of water. He raised his head and drank it slowly.

"Don't tell me you still miss her." Tartarus couldn't help but said.

Moros's back stiffened slightly.

"No." Moros said softly, "not always thinking about it."

"You made me want to meet that guy." Tartaros said, "I think you think too much of her, so you don't dare to chase after her."

"You know that once boys think of girls too perfect, they will be bound." Tartarus continued to talk, "Actually, the one they like is easily chased by people who don't value her."

Moros stopped his hand, he turned his head, and Tartarus felt something dangerous in the young man's black eyes for a moment.

However, it was restrained again in the next second.

"She doesn't have time to talk to you." Moros said softly, continuing the work at hand.

Tartarus felt his pride was hurt, so he decided to try.

Then he came back and apologized for what he said for three 10 minutes and that's another story.

The girl gradually fell asleep. Moros carefully moved her head and let her lie on his lap. He raised his head and looked at the bright stars. He suddenly remembered these boring past events, and thought of Tartarus He kept on teaching himself the so-called steps of chasing girls, such as sending flowers first, then going on a date, and then going boating on the lake.

Although he seems to be very familiar with the routine, but the achievements of his life are nothing but Typhon.

And Typhon still doesn't recognize him.

Moros couldn't help laughing. He was a man of few words and seldom laughed, but he really wanted to laugh at this time.

But maybe I should send her some flowers?He thought about it, but he didn't even know what flowers she liked. He thought he knew her, but now it seemed that most of her things were a fog to him.

He doesn't know what she likes to eat, doesn't know her hobbies, and doesn't know where she likes.

The girl was sleeping peacefully on his lap, her frosty white hair looked clean and serene, the color of an eternal snow mountain.

But it is also the color of withering and decay. Moros couldn't help touching it lightly. He knew that this girl had no believers to provide her with strength, and she had experienced too much pain, even though she was originally a powerful god. , and now there may be little power left.

Compared to the girl in his memory, she had weakened so much. The other gods were getting stronger and more influential, but she was the only one who kept going downhill.

Moroes knew that most of humanity hated her, because in the verses and ballads, she was the one responsible for the loss of humanity's golden age, a liar and a kingslayer, and all she did was to keep her own life alive.

They made fun of her for being cunning but no match for Zeus's perceptiveness.

The bad guy gets punished in the end, and so does she.

She is just an insignificant existence in the stories of the gods. No one remembers her appearance. She has been proficient in weaving lies all her life, but she is swallowed by lies.

Gods are creatures sensitive to beliefs. Praising them will make them radiant, while defaming them will make them more and more gloomy.

Nemesis agrees.

The three of them insisted that they were beauties when they were young.

"It's not ugly now." Moros said casually, and then the three goddesses hugged and said that you are still good to us.

The white-haired girl slept deeply. Moros gently combed her hair and smoothed them out one by one. She might not care about it, but he didn't know why and didn't want to see the girl's story Since then, it has been completely unrecognizable.

It has been 1000 years, and for 1000 years, she has always been a sinner who cannot stand up, no matter in the court of Olympus or in the tongue of the world.

Her frost-white hair flowed through his hands, like pure white sand and moonlight. Uncrowned gods would lose their brilliance, and normal gods would be covered with a faint golden layer after wearing crowns.

Unless it is deliberately restrained, it reminds mortals of the fact that it is a higher person all the time, but she does not have it.

She doesn't want to have either.

She has always been willing to be the most humble person, Moros sighed softly, really wanted to use his power to correct these things, this was an idea he had never had before.

But he knew she would not be willing, he didn't understand what she was waiting for, he grabbed her hand, and the two of them snuggled up in the black cave, under the bright stars, fell asleep until the sun rose.

The war will continue the next day, and the result she expected is slowly being revealed.

Hector was washing his face in front of the sink, and suddenly felt his wife standing aside, "What's wrong, you got up so early." He asked, and wiped his face.

"No." The wife said softly, "I just can't sleep."

"It's okay." He said with a smile, and patted his wife's shoulder. "The Greeks won't last long when they come here from such a long distance."

He showed a pretended relief smile, "I hope they eat up the food early and go home."

"You're right." The wife smiled and sat down. "Are you going out of town today?"

"Yes." Hector said, "I urge the farmers to harvest the crops quickly to prevent the Greeks from getting supplies."

He said hastily, kissing his wife on the forehead, "so they'll leave sooner."

"Yeah." The woman smiled, "Speaking of which, you seemed to be in a bad mood after chatting with His Majesty the King yesterday."

"No." Hector denied it.

"Well, I guessed wrong." The woman said softly, "You must know that I will always love you."

"I will always love you too." The young man smiled, picked up his helmet, and walked out.

He lied.

He had a violent quarrel with the king yesterday.

"I can't lose Paris," said the old man, holding up a hand. "You don't want to mention that again."

"But Paris made a mistake." Hector whispered.

"There is nothing wrong," said the old man. "I am tired."

"When you were young, you fell ill." The old man's voice suddenly dropped, "Everyone said, throw you away."

"I don't think so, I can't do it." He said softly, "I carried you to Apollo's temple. I knelt on the stone slab all night, and then your fever subsided."

He covered his eyes.

"I know Paris." He choked up, "but I'm afraid he will die."

Hector's originally prepared speech could not be said again for a moment.

"I know Dad." He lowered his head, "Apollo will protect us."

He went out.

Out of the corner of his eye Hector saw something as he mounted his horse and galloped toward the fields in the mountains, where the peasants were speeding up the reapers just as he had commanded them.

The white-haired girl picked up a wheat ear with her hand and sighed.

"If it grows more than ten days, it will probably be a bumper harvest, what do you think, noble prince." She smiled and turned her head.

Hector's spear was placed on her neck, but she didn't show any sign of fear. The young man let go of his hand and took the spear back. He didn't know why he felt uncomfortable when he saw this girl. An extraordinary intimacy.

"If you are a nearby resident, you can take refuge in the city." Hector said.

"Are you going to recover the Temple of Apollo?" the girl asked.

"Not going." Hector said softly, "The longer the battle line, the less beneficial it is for us."

He didn't know why he couldn't help answering the girl's question.

"Aren't you afraid of losing Apollo's protection?" she asked softly.

"I didn't rely on the protection of Apollo to get to where I am today." The young man said in a young voice, "Are you a priestess, do you need me to give you a ride?"

"No." She said softly, "just a traveler."

"There is no scenery here." The young man laughed, "You missed a good time."

He turned his eyes, and there was a kind of proud light in the golden eyes, "Troy in the past was very beautiful."

The girl smiled.

She does have something she wants to see. She wants to see what can be left behind after the human struggle.

In the end is love wins, or death wins.

The author has something to say: please comment~~

Troy's plot and lovelines have references to the film and later versions in Rome

感谢在2021-09-0616:31:39~2021-09-0715:07:01期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angel of the irrigation nutrient solution: 10 bottles of tumi flowers;

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