When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Before the messy footprints, Beaulieu stood up.

He gazed at the crisscrossing puddles and streams before him, lost in thought.

"They ran?" Beaulieu looked at Kleant.

Kleant was covered in mud, looking disheveled, as if he had just been pulled out of a puddle or mud pit.

"They're smart, abandoning those sick old folks, making them faster than before," Kleant complained.

"You still haven't answered my question," Beaulieu remained indifferent.

"They probably ran through the water; they didn't take the main road, likely heading into the swamp." Shivering, Kleant quickly replied honestly, "Going further is monster territory; they're doomed."

Beaulieu shook his head. "Not necessarily; they have a witch, two of them. Monsters shouldn't be a problem for them."

"Then should we keep chasing?"

"No." Beaulieu rubbed his temples. "We need to hire some monster hunters to clear the way for us; otherwise, it'll be hard to catch up."

"Anyway, they're going into the Wild Spider Forest; if we guard here, they won't get through and will have to come back sooner or later," Kleant suggested.

"We can't just keep wasting time with them here." Beaulieu waved his hand impatiently. "These peasants can really run; I should have ditched you guys and traveled light."

Beaulieu was still hoping to return to Little Pool City to join the grand event.

Unlike the inland Thousand River Valley, his family was coastal; the serfs on his fief were almost all gone, and grain prices had been crushed by the Blood Court's smuggled grain.

Otherwise, why would he bother training to join the Order Company?

Like the other knights, he would train in mounted combat, then climb the ranks through arena fame and connections.

"We're just mortals, after all; how can we compare to you knight masters?" Kleant didn't dare to be presumptuous in front of Beaulieu.

Completely different from his unruly attitude in front of Belard.

"Your Excellency, look at this." A squire suddenly approached, handing Beaulieu a ruler.

Taking the ruler, Beaulieu looked it over, puzzled.

"What's this about?"

"Your Excellency, the material of this ruler is softwood unique to Kasha County, the decorations are very similar to those from Shelley City, and look at the Frankish on it."

In the light of dusk, Beaulieu read the words one by one: "Given to my student, Madeleine."

"Your Excellency, this ruler likely comes from the Brago Monastery in Shelley City; it was found on one of the short hairs. If we can compare the handwriting, we might be able to determine which monk's writing it is. You know, Dean Huannuo and Archbishop Constance are in a fierce battle right now."

Beaulieu's eyes lit up instantly. He pondered for a long time, then shouted towards Belard, "Belard!"

The distant sound seemed to come from beyond the sky, but Belard still stood there, dazed.

"Belard, what are you doing?"

"N-nothing." Belard hurriedly tossed the piece of paper in his hand and rushed towards Beaulieu.

The paper fluttered in the evening breeze, carried forward, and landed on the water.

It unfolded on the water, revealing its original appearance.

On the yellowed paper was a simple drawing of two adults holding a child's hand.

The water slowly soaked the entire piece of paper, from the edges to the center, gradually blurring the drawing, until it was no longer recognizable.

This crude piece of paper floated slowly forward with the current.

It floated past reeds and dawn redwoods, past water snakes and water spiders, wobbling, and got caught on a branch sticking out of the water.

A shovel covered in mud reached into the stream from its side.

Hone shook the shovel handle, washing off the mud that was hindering the digging.

Standing up, he carried the shovel and walked back towards the small hill.

The Cloud Snow at his waist also swayed with his body.

The hilt of Cloud Snow had been replaced with the one Frick gave him.

It was smaller than Hone's hand-and-a-half sword, and looked awkward on it, even more so when placed with the sword body protruding from the scabbard.

Reaching the top of the small hill, Hone picked up the wine jug on the ground, took a sip, and then stepped on the edge of the shovel with his foot, sinking it deep into the soil.

Hone used both hands to forcefully scoop out the last shovel of soil.

He stuck the shovel in the ground and stared blankly at the small pit in front of him, just big enough for one person to lie down.

"I feel like I could find a job as a gravedigger in the future; I just finished digging a grave for Danji, and now I have to dig one for you, for you all."

Sitting in front of the grave pit, Hone thought he would be sad, or as angry as when Danji died.

But when he was really here, he was just filled with confusion.

The night wind howled, winding through the dawn redwoods and pine trees, blowing the hem of Hone's clothes.

Those words he couldn't say to Frick, those words he wanted to say in front of their tombstones, were all blown away by the wind.

Sadness, anger, it all seemed so far away.

He stared at the shallow pit that could only fit one person, then suddenly threw down the shovel in his hand, jumped into the pit, and lay down.

It was so quiet, as if all sounds and troubles had disappeared, so peaceful.

His ears were against the soil, surrounded by the tips of the dawn redwood trees, and before his eyes was a sky full of stars.

"Tell me, you, who couldn't you have looked for?" Hone looked at the starry sky. "Why did you have to look for me? What am I? Tell me, what am I?"

The darkness was as silent as fog, vaguely hiding all sounds behind it.

"Danji, Frick, look, I'm just an ordinary person, and a damn coward at that."

"I'm neither holy nor do I have a system; I'm just an ordinary person with a little extra knowledge in my head."

"I just want to make up for regrets; I'm afraid of getting hurt again."

"Living again, I just want to be a selfish person."

"Danji, Frick... the things you entrusted to me, I might... I..."

Lying in the grave pit, Hone couldn't say a word that came to his lips.

Isn't it just a "Sorry, I can't do it"?

Say it, just say it.

The starry sky before his eyes became a little blurry, and something seemed to be stuck in his throat, making Hone's lips tremble.

Say it, why can't he say it after so long?

"Brother?" A delicate face peeked out from the edge of the grave pit.

Hone immediately swallowed back all those random thoughts.

"What are you doing lying here?"

"I'm tired; I'm just lying down to rest." Hone forced a smile.

Looking at Hone's face for a long time, Lana suddenly jumped into the grave pit.

"Move over."

Pushing Hone to the side, Lana also lay down, filling the small grave pit to the brim.

The two were pressed tightly together.

"Frick and the others are dead, aren't they?" After who knows how long, Lana asked.

"Yes."

"We've come so far, and we're about to reach Jeanneburg; it's such a pity."

Hone didn't reply.

"Brother, you haven't let anyone starve or die of illness."

Still no reply, he just kept looking at the sky; he really wanted to say to Lana:

This isn't what I should be doing!

He should be a cold and ruthless transmigrator; he should abandon all these sick and elderly people; he should no longer love anyone and live only for himself.

He should be like those transmigrator seniors, quickly abandon these burdens, find a base, farm, develop, wage war, marry, form alliances, and finally become the continent's overlord!

Then, he would avenge them.

Then, he would marry a bunch of wives.

Then, he would be a cruel king, sitting in a magnificent palace, indulging in pleasure and sleeping with many women—that's what it should be!

That's... right, right?

Hone felt as if someone was using a high-powered putty mixer to stir his brain, stirring it into a pulp.

Right?

Hone closed his eyes, furrowed his brows, as if he was having a nightmare.

Strong, white arms wrapped around Hone's neck, and Lana breathed moistly into Hone's ear.

"Brother, I think Grandpa Frick definitely left with a smile."

"We people of Thousand River Valley have lost everything, our dignity, our fairness, our freedom, the only things we have left are our lives and our families."

"Grandpa Frick couldn't bear to lose his children a third time."

After about half a minute, Hone slowly turned to the side: "Lana, let me hug you."

Lana opened her arms.

Like a baby, he curled up his body and buried his head in Lana's strong, reliable chest.

"However long you want to stay here, I'll stay with you." Changing to a comfortable position, Lana brought her mouth to the top of Hone's head, holding Hone's head.

Starlight filled the grave pit, and Lana and Hone were as still as if they were asleep.

"Lana."

"Hmm?"

"You, you've grown up during this time."

"Yeah, after experiencing so much." With a faint smile on her lips, Lana gently stroked the ends of Hone's hair. "If I didn't grow up, it wouldn't make sense."

"...That's not what I meant."

As soon as he said that, Hone knew it was bad.

He felt the soft arms wrapped around his neck instantly become harder and hotter than red-hot steel.

"Okay! I've rested enough!"

Without hesitation, Hone pulled his head out of her arms, scrambled out of Lana's embrace, and crawled out of the grave pit before she turned red-hot.

Turning around, he reached out and pulled Lana out of the grave pit. Hone patted the dirt off his body and stood back in front of the tombstone.

He stood there for a long time before reaching out and gently stroking the tombstone:

"Rest assured, I will do my best to safely deliver your children to Jeanneburg and not let them die on the path you have paved."

"I can't promise anything else."

"Sorry, I'm not a good Pope."

Throwing his old sword hilt into the shallow pit, Hone and Lana each used a shovel to bury the soil back, creating a small mound.

Patting the grave mound firmly, he planted the wooden tombstone in front of the mound.

Hone took two steps back, made sure it wasn't crooked, and then, with slightly numb legs, followed behind Lana, carrying the shovel and walking away with difficulty.

In the starlight, the words on the tombstone seemed to glow.

"Here lie the fathers and mothers of all the people of Thousand River Valley."

ps: Got off work a bit late today, going to eat first, there will be two more chapters later