Did the tavern owner cook Chinese food today?

It seemed to be a sunny day, and the sun of the dark cave sprinkled the sky with golden light.But the pouring rain kept falling, and Shengyang failed to share its temperature with the ground.

Cold, bone-chilling cold.

Sleepy-eyed, the boy climbed up from the wet and cold ground, his head accidentally pressed against the stone wall, and the chill penetrated into his skull.The cold temperature made his body tremble, and his hazy consciousness became clear instantly.

He looked around blankly, got up, and by the light of the window above his head, he vaguely recognized this strange environment.

There are walls on all sides, and within a few steps, you can touch the end.

"Buckle...?" The boy rubbed his arms and called cautiously.

The only response to him was the rainwater seeping from the top of the wall.

"Buckle!"

The boy's cry was tinged with fear, he instinctively rejected this place, he didn't even know where the door was.

With trembling fingers, he groped along the wall one by one.Rough, dry, wet, and then something sticky and greasy, smelling it under the nose, it is a stench of rust and rotten oil.

The boy felt a gap, like a thin gully made of two stones joined together.

"Buckle... where are you..."

He pressed his face to the gap, carefully suppressing his voice as if he was worried about making noise.After a long time without hearing a response, the boy's calling became terrified.

"Is anyone there?" He hit the wall, bone and stone made a crisp sound, "Can anyone hear me?"

Suddenly, there was a vibration from the wall in front of him, with such force that it seemed to shatter the wall.The boy was so scared that he fell to the ground.

"Shut up, brat! It's too noisy!" Behind the wall, there were constant curses.

The boy rushed forward: "Who are you? Where am I? Do you know Buckle? I want to find Uncle Buckle!"

"Stay still, or I'll kill you!"

The boy's dark eyeholes stared blankly at the wall, and he turned to the window, which was so high that his neck was raised.The rain is pattering on the ground, and the sky is raining.

He remembered that Uncle Buckle had said: Rain in a clear sky means that the sky is crying, crying for ominous omens and grievances.

Silently squatting back to the corner, the boy curled up in a ball, his knee bones pressed against his skull.

When he woke up, he was here.He only remembered that he slept soundly at night, more peacefully than ever before.

He counted everything that happened yesterday - he didn't cause trouble to Uncle Buckle, he cleaned the house well, and went to tend the sheep.

Uncle Buckle praised him for the good bean soup and patted his head.

Some children in the village threw stones at him, calling him the son of a sinner.His ears were callused, although he didn't understand what it meant, he just thought he was deaf, and never went to fight with them again.

Counting to four days ago, he still didn't find out what he did wrong.Even if it was wrong, Uncle Buckle wouldn't lock him in the house.

Therefore, he probably doesn't know those people outside the door.

Then why are they catching themselves?Does Uncle Buckle know he's being held here?Today's sheep haven't had time to graze...

The sound of the dripping rain and the rustling movement in the house touched the boy's nerves little by little.He felt something crawl over his feet, and occasionally the back of his neck scratched.

He buried his head in his knees and just stood still.I don't know how long it has passed, but the tears have accumulated a pool of water stains on the ground.

"Let... go."

The boy looked up suddenly, and he vaguely heard someone talking behind the door.Stretching out his hand, he touched the door.

The door trembled again, and this time, light finally came through the crack.How he wished it was Uncle Buckle who greeted him at the door—unfortunately not.

They were tall and tall, and the shadows on the wall merged into one, extending straight to the end of the boy's line of sight, like a terrifying monster.

They were all dressed in black robes, so that the boy could not see their faces clearly.On the far right, a man with a stature comparable to a giant is carefully counting the coins in his hand.

"Come with us." One of the men in black stated.

As soon as the words fell, the other two took his arms and fastened the shackles forcefully, leaving no chance for the boy to refuse.

"Who are you?!" the boy screamed and struggled.

No one paid any attention to him, only dragging his worn clothes away.

The boy glanced at the shackles on his wrists, the size was just right, as if tailor-made.No matter how he moved his wrist bone, it hurt so much that he couldn't break free.

"Where are you taking me? Let me go!" He was covered with a hood, and his vision fell into darkness again.

On the way, he was dragged along like a beast, staggering.There were many bumps on his body, and the pain made his hood covered with tears and snot.

He wanted to run recklessly several times, but was dragged back without exception.

Now, he is like a grain bag and a dead pig, tied across the horse's back.Face down, his stomach was on the horse's back, and he was jolting so hard that he wanted to throw up.

Fear and confusion occupied his mind, and the boy didn't know what to do. From asking to begging, the people in black robes ignored them.

Amidst the sound of horseshoes and howling wind, he heard the man in black talking in a daze.

"Have you figured out how to explain to the Holy See?" the horse driver on the boy's side asked.

"Don't be an idiot, David. Anyway, they have already thrown this kid away. Eight years have passed, do you think anyone still remembers him?"

The language they use is like a sacrificial language from ancient times. The words roll on the tip of the tongue, elegant and solemn.

Inexplicably, the boy understood the language, and it seemed to be deeply ingrained in his blood from birth.

"So, it's better to use him. I'm very interested in this kid's physique. He can withstand the trial of the undead when he was a baby..."

"You know me?" The boy said at this moment, his words were interrupted by the horse.

The air was suddenly silent, and no one answered.The horses gradually stopped moving, and the jolting stopped.

Suddenly a hand pulled him off the horse abruptly, and the hood was pulled away abruptly, and the light pierced into his eyes, which hurt very much.The boy couldn't help but close his eyes tightly, and physiological tears squeezed out of the dark eye holes.

A handful of cold spikes touched the position of the soul core, and the boy was too frightened to move.

"Do you speak ancient Elvish language?" the man in black robe in front of him asked in the language just now.

"I... I don't know, I just understand it." The boy didn't know any ancient Elvish language, it was the first time he heard it.Before I could react, combined with their conversation, I subconsciously asked questions.

"Then what we just said..."

The sharp knife pushed in a little more, and there was a sudden pain in the chest, and the boy couldn't help crying out in pain.

"Stop it, David."

Another man in black got off his horse and walked up to the boy.At this time, the eyes had almost recovered. The boy raised his eyes and saw a pair of eyes through the abyss-like darkness under the cloak.

The eyes are as bright red as blood, the eyes are slender, and there are knife-like lines at the end of the eyes, which are blooming like butterfly wings.

The boy noticed that the red eye on the left, near the golden bridge of the nose and the corner of the eye, had a maroon water drop birthmark.

He only glanced at it hastily, and didn't dare to look again.Because the man's eyes made him feel uncomfortable, hotter than the sun, as if staring at something new and strange.

"Interesting... Interesting." The man in black praised. "Just listen to it. It's a pity to kill him. Anyway, he can't escape our palms."

"This little thing can understand the ancient elf language, does that mean...haha! That's great, let me pick up this treasure of yours, and let me study it carefully in the future..."

The boy shuddered, and then he was treated as before, with his head covered and the horse thrown in one go.

After repeated dizziness, he couldn't vomit, and when he dismounted, he collapsed to the ground.

He felt that he was like the butcher's meat waiting to be slaughtered, kicking and pulling for a while.It was so uncomfortable that he couldn't get up, and he lay down on the mud like a dead dog.

Just when someone was about to pick him up, two horseshoes sounded in the distance.

"Wilmer—Wilmer—" A familiar voice floated into my ears.

Wilmer was like a dying fish, struggling to bounce and struggle in the mud.

"Uncle Buckle..." He thought his tears had dried up, but now he murmured, tasting salt water in his mouth.

"Please, let him go, he is only eight years old!"

Wilmer couldn't see Buckle, but he listened, Uncle Buckle's voice was extremely hoarse.

I don't know if Uncle Buckle drank the roe grass soup that was boiled last night.He had a sore throat and had to drink medicine to relieve it.

"You have done your best, Buckle." The black-robed man said ruthlessly, "They asked you to raise this child, and you took good care of it."

"You understand, I watched him grow up!"

"Oh... Is it possible that you have developed feelings?"

The black-robed man asked sarcastically, and Ma called out "咴咴", as if laughing at him too.

"Let him go, please, let me replace him."

Buckle begged desperately, Wilmer burst into tears, and there was the sound of a gun hitting the ground, again and again, hitting Wilmer's soul core in pain.

After a long time, the man in black didn't move at all.Suddenly, Wilmer heard Buckle say: "... Let me take another look at this child, is it okay?"

The man in black agreed, and lifted Wilmer's mask.

A skeleton and an undead stand opposite each other.

They were no worse than the other—the skeleton was covered with filth, while Buckle's forehead and knees were covered with grass and mud and blood.

Buckle took Wilmer's small bone palm and put it in the palm of his hand, which was less than half the width of his palm.

He took the skeleton boy a few steps away, but the man in black didn't move, but Bakker didn't move away any further.

"Wilmer, my good boy." He stroked the skull slowly with the other hand, his eyes filled with tears and love.

He took the skeleton boy into his arms: "Your name is Wilmer Yeoman. Remember, 'Yoman' is your last name."

"Promise me, you must remember it firmly, let it be engraved in your bone marrow, until the last moment when the god of death takes you away, you can't forget it until the smoke disappears."

Wilmer buried his whole face in Buckle's embrace, cuddled tightly, and nodded fiercely.

Although he didn't know anything, he could understand that they were about to separate.

He didn't blame Buckle for giving him up.Others said that he was the son of a sinner, born with sinful blood.It was Uncle Buckle who adopted him as an abandoned baby.

Despite the rejection of everyone in the village, he was raised for eight years.Wilmer is grateful, but now he still can't help the sourness in his heart.

It's so sad... His soul core hurts so much, he doesn't want to be separated from Uncle Buckle...

Wilmer's bony fingers tightly clutched the clothes on the other's back.

"Uncle Buckle, you have to remember to drink the medicine." His voice muffled from between his clothes, and for a moment, he felt the other party's tighter grip on him.

Then suddenly pulled away.

Buckle supported Wilmer's shoulder, and Wilmer looked at him dazedly. The figure gradually faded away, his complexion became pale and cold, and there was a long opening in his throat, like a second mouth, turning scarlet.

Buckle's appearance didn't change much, except that there were corpse spots on his face and the wound on his neck was exposed.

For the first time, Uncle Buckle turned into a prototype for him.

"You have to take care of yourself, you know?"

"..."

"Answer me, Wilmer Yeoman! Learn to take care of yourself, understand?"

"I...I know."

The moment Wilmer finished answering, Buckle's eyes flashed with determination.

He bit his finger hard, not a single drop of blood from his index finger wasted, all of it wiped off the skull's forehead.

Then with a sudden force, Wilmer was lifted high and thrown to one side.

The narrator did not know when the horse appeared, as if it was the person who was walking with him just now.

For a second, everything seems to be spinning, and then it's chaotic.

The knives, guns and sword sticks were shaking in the blood and drizzle, and the mixed roars were about to shake the blood out of the ears.

Wilmer felt that time began to slow down.

——He witnessed Bakker, under the rain of swords, covered in holes, and fell into a pool of blood.

——On top of his head was the roar of a stranger, chanting unknown incantations.

Then, a thunderbolt struck the front, and the blood-black door opened.

The horse is galloping, and then the hind legs are pierced by a bow and arrow, and it falls forward and kneels.

They both fell with the horses, and the doorway was shrinking and shrinking at a speed visible to the naked eye.

"Come on!!!"

He saw the stern face of the stranger, and at the last moment, he pushed him into the entrance hole.

Wilmer's eyes caught the final scene—the scarlet sky, a blood moon and golden sun hanging high in the sky.

He didn't know whether it was the sky that stained the ground red, or Buckle's blood filled the sky.

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The author has something to say:

I'm so angry, I can't post it for a long time!