This seemed to be a story about a hero and a Knight.
But it was not a story about a hero and a Knight.
In the memory of No. 32, no drama had ever set the tone with such a picture. It was suffocatingly real, but at the same time, it revealed an indescribable power. It was as if the smell of steel and fire was constantly escaping from the depths of the picture, surrounding the young Knight.
It was not gorgeous enough, not delicate enough, and did not have the characteristic symbols of religion or royalty. The nobles who were used to traditional dramas would not like it, especially the bloodstains on the young Knight's face and the crisscrossing scars on his armor. These things were real, but too "ugly".
The nobles of the old days preferred to see the Knight in gorgeous and ostentatious golden armor, eradicating evil under the protection of God, or watch the princess and the Knight wander between castles and manors, singing beautiful and empty poems. Even if there was a battlefield, it was the "paint" used to decorate love.
Those painted canaries could not bear the roasting of iron and fire.
However, the ordinary people who had never come into contact with the 'upper class' would not have thought of this. They did not know what the high and mighty aristocrats were doing every day. They only thought that what they saw in front of them was part of the 'drama', and they talked about it animatedly around the large and exquisite portrait.
No. 32 also stood under the outer wall of the auditorium for a long time, looking up at the huge picture that was more than three meters high. The original version might have been painted by a certain artist, but the one hanging here should be a copy made by a machine. For half a minute, the tall and silent man just looked at it quietly, without saying a word. His bandaged face was like a stone.
Until his partner's voice came from the side. "Hey, No. 32, what's wrong?"
The tall man woke up from his dream. He blinked, looked away from the poster of the magic drama, and looked around in confusion as if he could not figure out whether he was in reality or a dream. He did not know why he was here. But soon he came to his senses and said in a muffled voice, "Nothing."
"You're always so quiet." The dark-skinned man shook his head. "You must be stunned. To be honest, I was stunned at first sight too. What a beautiful painting! I didn't see this kind of thing in the countryside before … "
While they were talking, the crowd began to move. It seemed that it was finally time for the auditorium to open. No. 32 heard a whistle coming from the direction of the gate not far away. It must be the copper whistle that the construction team leader hung around his neck every day. Its sharp and loud sound was familiar to everyone here.
His partner nudged him again. "Hurry up and catch up. If you miss it, there won't be any good seats left! I heard from the mechanic that delivered the supplies last time that the magic movie is a rare thing. Even in the South, there are only a few cities that can see it! "
Oh, the rarities -- there are so many rarities in this day and age.
No. 32 did not say anything. He was pushed into the crowd by his partner and followed the crowd into the auditorium. Many people squeezed into the auditorium. The auditorium, which was usually used for morning meetings and classes, was soon filled with people. The wooden platform at the front of the auditorium had an extra set of large magical devices.
It looked like a magic net terminal, but it was much larger and more complicated than the magic net terminal used for communication in the campsite. On the large triangular base, there were several projection crystals of different sizes forming a crystal array. Faint light surged above the array. Clearly, it was ready to be tested.
No. 32 sat down with the others under the wooden platform. His partner was talking excitedly and expressed his opinion before the magic movie started. They finally got a seat at the front, which put him in a good mood. And he was not the only one who was excited. The whole auditorium was noisy because of it.
Then, the mechanical bell set up in the auditorium rang sharply and urgently. The complex and huge magical machine on the wooden platform began to operate. Accompanied by a magical projection that could cover the entire platform and a low and solemn music, the noisy place finally quieted down.
It had begun.
The people who were busy expressing their opinions and making all kinds of guesses were quickly attracted by what appeared in front of them.
At first, when the projection and sound appeared, some people thought that it was a special magic net broadcast. But when a story that seemed to have happened suddenly appeared in front of their eyes, everyone's emotions were firmly attracted by what was in the projection.
It was a soul-stirring story about a disaster, a man-made disaster, a brave Knight, a group of victims who fell like weeds, a group of brave people who fought, and a noble and tragic sacrifice. Everyone in the auditorium held their breath and kept quiet. But slowly, very soft voices came from every corner.
This was not the traditional kind of drama that the nobles watched. It did not have the exaggeration and obscurity of traditional dramas, the long and short poems that required more than a decade of grammar to understand, and the empty and useless hero's confession. It was a straightforward story that made everything as simple and easy to understand as if it was told by someone who had experienced it. And this straightforwardness and simplicity allowed the people in the auditorium to quickly understand the content of the drama and quickly realize that this was the disaster they had experienced — a disaster recorded from another perspective.
"Ah, that windmill!" His partner who was sitting next to him suddenly could not help but whisper. The man who was born and raised in the Plains of the Sacred Spirit stared at the projection on the stage and repeated it over and over again. "Kabre's windmill … That's Kabre's windmill … My nephew's family lives there …"
Another person nearby whispered. "That's Thorin Castle, right? I know the walls over there … "
"This … Did someone record everything that happened at that time? Heavens, how did they do it … "
"Definitely not. Didn't I say that this is a drama? Dramas are fake, I know that. Those are actors and scenery …"
"But they look too real. They look just like the real thing!"
"Yeah, they look too real …"
In front of everyone, many familiar things appeared, and then those familiar things disappeared one by one. Soon, the people in the auditorium became quiet again, and quieter than before.
No. 32 sat in the middle of the quiet people like a silent statue, watching the irreversible disaster unfold step by step in the magical projection, watching the last Knight of the fallen land embark on his final journey.
He watched it all quietly.
Time passed unknowingly, and this incredible 'drama' finally came to an end.
However, no one moved. Number 32 also sat in the same place silently like everyone else.
It was not until the words' The End of the Story 'appeared on the projection, until the name list of the producers and a mellow ending tune appeared at the same time that the dark-skinned partner suddenly took a deep breath as if to calm himself down. Then he noticed No. 32 who was still staring at the projection. He squeezed out a smile and pushed his partner's arm. "No. 32, you're still looking. It's over."
"Ah … Yeah … It's over …"
"You don't usually talk. I didn't expect you to be attracted by this thing," the dark-skinned partner said with a smile, but then the corners of his eyes drooped. "It's, it's really attractive … Is this the 'drama' that the nobles used to watch … It's really unusual, unusual …"
"Nobles don't watch dramas like this," No. 32 said in a muffled voice.
"It's like you've seen it before." His partner shook his head, and then muttered thoughtfully, "It's all gone …"
No. 32 did not speak. He looked at the stage, where the projection did not go out because of the end of the 'drama'. The subtitles were still rolling up, and now it had reached the end. After the last name list ended, a line of huge words suddenly appeared, attracting the attention of many people again.
"This drama is dedicated to every sacrifice in the war, to every brave warrior and commander, to those who lost their loved ones, to those who survived.
"To the land we love so much, to the one who rebuilt this land.
"To — Belk Loren."
The magic projection above the wooden stage finally dissipated. A moment later, a bell rang from the direction of the exit of the hall.
People got up one by one and left, but there was one person who stayed in the same place, sitting there quietly as if he did not hear the bell.
"No. 32?" The dark-skinned man pushed his partner's arm and whispered with a trace of concern, "No. 32! It's time to go, the bell is ringing. "
However, the tall man, who was wearing bandages to cover the scars all over his body, just sat there motionless. He did not speak for a long time as if his soul had left his body. He seemed to still be immersed in the story that had already ended. It was not until his partner pushed him several times that he woke up from his dream and let out an "ah" sound.
"Don't tell me you're in a daze?" His partner looked at him in confusion. "This is not like you."
"I …" Number 32 opened his mouth, but no words came out.
His partner looked back at the projector that had gone out. The dark-skinned man pursed his lips. Two seconds later, he whispered in a low voice, "But I'm not much better than you … That thing in there is so real … No. 32, do you think that story is real?"
No. 32 finally stood up slowly and said in a low voice, "We are rebuilding this place, at least this is real."
His partner looked at him, a little surprised, as if he did not expect the man to take the initiative to express such a positive thought. Then the dark-skinned man grinned and laughed. "Of course, this is the place where our ancestors have lived for generations."
"I've given myself a name," No. 32 suddenly said.
"Huh?" His partner felt like he couldn't keep up with No. 32's train of thought, but he quickly reacted. "Ah, that's good! You're finally going to give yourself a name, although I'm used to calling you No. 32 … By the way, what's your name? "
No. 32 was silent for a few seconds before spitting out a few words. "Let's call myself Sam."
His partner was stunned for a moment, and then he did not know whether to laugh or cry. "That's the name you came up with after thinking for a long time. You can read. Do you know how many Sam's there are in this camp alone?"
"I think it's a good name."
"But it's so rustic. Isn't there a saying that the seigneur's grain is in a row, and forty Sam are busy in it — the farmer is called Sam, the miner is called Sam, the horse is called Sam, the woodcutter is called Sam, the man who works on the ground is called Sam! "
No. 32 suddenly smiled.
His face covered with bandages, scars, and crystal clusters looked a little strange in this smile, but his bright eyes were shining.
He said with a slightly happy tone, "So, it's a good name."
"Then do whatever you want." His partner shrugged helplessly. "Anyway, we have to go. Almost everyone has left."
By the exit of the hall, a man in uniform was standing there, urging the last few people in the hall to leave with his eyes.
No. 32 nodded. He followed behind his partner, and like a soldier who had just recovered, he walked towards the exit of the hall with his chest puffed out.
At the exit, there was also a large "poster" of the "Fire Beacon". The young Knight stood on the ground with a sword in his hand, and his eyes were like torches.
Although the "actor" in the magic movie looked sixty to seventy percent similar to this young man, the one on the "poster" was the one in his memory.
He walked past the poster, paused for a moment, and said in a soft voice that no one could hear.
"Goodbye, son."
Then, Sam left.
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