Brando turned back to look at the child who had bumped into him. The boy had already fallen down on the thick and soft carpet in the hall. He was about seven or eight years old, with a head of black hair. Under his small sword-shaped eyebrows, there was a kind of unswerving determination hidden in his big, dark eyes. The little boy looked at him with some uncertainty. He was wearing the kind of silk attendant uniform that the children of noble families often wore, white tight pants, and a pair of pointed boots inlaid with jewels and gold leaf. Silver plates were scattered around him, and all kinds of dishes were spilled all over the floor. The red sauce slowly seeped into the carpet.
Time seemed to have stopped for a moment.
It would cost a lot of money to replace the expensive camel fur carpet, because this kind of handmade carpet was only produced in the Silver Bay. Merchants used tamed beasts to carry this kind of exquisite fabric across the desert, passing thousands of miles to Erouine, just to make a huge profit that was more expensive than gold. This strange thought flashed through Brando's mind for a moment. The little boy looked familiar to him. He narrowed his eyes and was trying to recall where he had seen him before. At this moment, a gentle voice interrupted, "Sir, I'm sorry."
Brando's every pore seemed to shrink, and his muscles and skin tightened together. He stiffly raised his head in the direction of the voice, and then his whole body was nailed there.
It was a noble couple, dressed in clothes that suited this era, which was the style that Erouine imitated from the upper class of the Wind Elves in the later period of the Renaissance. They helped the little boy up and smiled apologetically at Brando, "Sophie, quickly apologize to him. Look, you've dirtied this gentleman's clothes."
Brando looked at this scene in silence. Although two words that were deeply engraved in his memory were churning in his heart, as if they were going to burst out at any time, he just couldn't say it. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought that he would see his parents in his dreams at this time and in such an environment.
The noble couple in front of him was exactly the same as the two faces in his memory, and even younger. Or it could be said that they were almost the same as his childhood memories. Yes, at that time, he was only seven or eight years old. He often went to the amusement park near his home with his parents. He glanced at the little boy.
"I'm sorry, sir," the young Sophie patted the dirt off her body, raised her head and apologized to him in a tone that was neither servile nor overbearing.
Brando pursed his lips quietly.
He knew that this was himself in his heart, and also his parents in his heart, because this was his confusion in this dream. There was a fog in the hearts of mortals, and this fog existed in the dreams of the Lost Names, and no one knew when it would envelop you.
And now, he was walking into the fog that he had always been unwilling to face. The mortal's greatest enemy was probably himself, because only he knew what he was most afraid of. And this nightmare was just like the description, hitting the weakest spot in his heart.
Brando forced a smile from his stiff face. "It's okay." He tried hard to control himself so that he would not act so out of place, but in fact, he immediately wanted to find an excuse to escape. He saw the way his parents looked at his young self. It was a look of protection and hope, and Brando knew what that look meant.
"Sir, you seem to have something on your mind?" His mother looked at him and asked.
"No, no …" Brando almost lost his composure and quickly shook his head.
"It's normal for young people to have things on their minds. You may not believe it, but my husband and I feel a little close to you when we see you. So please give us a chance to apologize. Can we invite you to sit over there for a while? " The familiar face of the woman in his memory looked at him somewhat kindly, but it was the kind of eyes with tolerance and kindness that almost made him collapse.
Brando took a deep breath and let the cold air seep into his lungs to calm himself down. "Of course, it's my pleasure, but I still have some things to take care of. I'm really … sorry, I can only take my leave." With that, he bowed deeply to the couple, then turned and ran away as if he was running away, as if he was afraid that if he stayed a moment longer, his original identity would be exposed.
If that was the case, he did not even know how he should face them.
He was following the shining trajectory in that world, changing the fate of this ancient kingdom. But was all of this really meaningful? For a moment, he even felt lost. Could he really answer them without any regrets? Was all of this meaningful? Or perhaps he had been wrong from the very beginning. Was everything he had been pursuing real or not?
For the first time, Brando was not so sure in his heart.
He did not even dare to look back. He plunged into the crowd, sweating profusely. Even after the battle in Ampere Seale, he had never been so uneasy. He looked at the faces of the nobles, some distorted and magnified, as if they were the images of demons. There seemed to be a voice calling him, dragging him to hell.
"Teacher!" The voice suddenly became clear, as if it had strength, and grabbed his arm. As a strong person who had activated his Elemental Power, Brando was almost pulled to the ground. He turned his head back, sweating profusely. The first thing he saw was a slender arm with a long silver glove. He looked up and saw the clear eyes of His Highness the Prince.
"Teacher?" Haruze looked at him worriedly.
"Haruze?" Brando was slightly startled and finally woke up. He looked up and did not see the figure of Princess Gryphine, so he asked, "Where's your sister? Have you finished talking to her? "
"Almost, but there's something I don't understand." The little prince frowned, showing a deep worry. The way he frowned really resembled his sister, especially the way his neck was slightly bent and his head was lowered under the long silver curly hair. It was exactly the same as Princess Gryphine's. Brando was stunned when he saw it.
This also dispelled some of the confusion in his heart, calming him down a little. At that moment, he thought of Princess Gryphine, of Freya, of the Roman and the mountains of Bucce. These things really existed. Brando felt a little relieved, but he understood that the thorn buried in the bottom of his heart was just hiding its edge.
"I understand what you want to know …" Brando replied faintly.
"What is this place, Teacher? Why did it become like this? Didn't we defeat Duke Seifer in Ampere Seale? Duke Arreck has also become a wanted criminal by the Holy Cathedral. As long as the South and North are united, Aouine will be able to regain its former glory, won't it? "The little prince grabbed his hand tightly, as if he was really a helpless girl.
"But why did it become like this …"
"I, I asked my sister … Without Mr. Brando, without the battle of Ampere Seale, my sister married Duke Arreck, the old nobles gathered around the people who gave them the greatest benefits, and even the Royal Party stood on the opposite side of the kingdom. And Madara … Why did the undead sequence become so powerful? Sister Freya … Sister Freya is also dead … How could this be, we clearly … clearly already … "
Haruze's eyes were a little misty, he bit his lip and tried not to cry, "My sister said she would die here, Teacher, please save my sister …"
Brando sighed in his heart. He could understand the despair in the little prince's heart, because they had personally experienced such despair. Their efforts seemed to be negated by an invisible hand, their hopes turned into nothingness, their ideals and beliefs destroyed little by little, and the road ahead seemed to be left with only endless darkness.
But if it were not for such hopelessness, how could he have come to this point today?
He touched the little prince's head and replied, "Haruze, this is just a dream. Have you forgotten what I told you? The Unnamed One distorted your dream just to make you fall into it, and all the absurd scenes you see here are his means to confuse you. "
Haruze looked up at him with red eyes, "Teacher, I know, you're actually lying to me, aren't you? These things really happened, although I don't know where they are, maybe in the future, maybe in the past, but I know, they're not all fake. "
Brando was shocked, he looked at the little prince, "Haruze, why do you say that?"
"I don't know … I just have a hunch, I'm a little scared, Teacher."
As expected of a Seer, this was not inferior to the Roman sixth sense. Brando shook his head gently, "In the eyes of the ancient Cruz people, history overlaps, because different branches of history will extend to different results. Whenever history goes to a fork, there are two results at the same time node, and the witches believe that each branch will give birth to a new world. These worlds overlap with each other, and we are just passersby. "
Brando suddenly thought that maybe there was such a possibility, otherwise it could not explain his experience. But unfortunately, it was just a legend after all, and no one could prove its authenticity, "Maybe all this happened in different histories, but it's just a dream after all, and we've changed our own destiny. Didn't Maynild say that we should have a sword in our hands that can change our destiny?"
"Really?"
"Maybe, after all, no one has seen it," Brando replied somewhat guiltily.
After regaining his composure, his mentality became more stable. But it was at this moment that he felt the smell of blood and burnt flesh in the air become stronger. He turned around and saw that everyone in the hall was talking loudly, but no one seemed to have noticed it.
But at this time, the hall suddenly became quiet.
Then the door in the middle of the corridor on the second floor suddenly opened, and a row of Knights walked out from behind. Then he saw his senior, Black Tea, and many other familiar faces behind them. They were all from the Crimson Traveler's team. Finally, behind everyone, a noble and elegant figure slowly walked out.
The hall was silent.
Everyone's eyes were focused in that direction.
Brando frowned slightly, the scene in his memory was engraved in his heart, and he would never forget it. He subconsciously turned his head in one direction, if he remembered correctly, the assassin would open the door in that direction and sneak into the hall when no one was paying attention.
However, what surprised him was that …
The door was closed, and there was no movement.
"What's going on? Has history changed? "Brando was slightly startled.
…
(PS: Because Carvin is going out tomorrow to find inspiration, he's going to find a place to travel with Blackie. I'll keep updating, but the time of the update may not be fixed, I'll use a notebook at the hotel when the time comes, it may be early or late, I hope everyone will forgive me …) If you like this work, you are welcome to come to qidian.com to vote for me. Your support is my greatest motivation.)
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