Chapter 1: Smelling the fragrance of blood, I found the palace of Requiem ()

The wind in the Dollas Plain seems to have never stopped every day and night, humid and warm. Why does this make the living beings bathed in the wind feel cold all over the body?

The moon, Ximana, who represents the blood-wailing, has disappeared in such a night sky. It is not that it has disappeared or has not risen, but that the rich and undecorated red in the sky has already overwhelmed her brilliance. Black lightning flashes through the red sky, like pairs of hideous giant hands trying to knead the entire plain.

What makes the wind in Dollas cold? And what makes the originally blue sky purple and red?

It’s war, it’s unyielding, it’s blood!

Thunder rolls in the sky, and blood flows into a river that cannot be stopped!

On the land on the border of the Dollas Plain, there was blood red everywhere, and the remains of people and war horses were everywhere. The bundles of black smoke just rose, and before it could reach the prairie fire, it was blown away by the Dollas wind, and it was gone... only the purest red.

This is a huge, cruel battlefield, and Dollas is like a crazy cold-blooded meat grinder. The warring Menid Empire and Oshu Empire have sent tens of thousands of lives into this huge meat grinder.

And the war has just begun.

The two evenly matched empires both understood one truth at the beginning of the war, which was by no means an easy little fight like a safari. All they could compete was perseverance and will. And, they were regarded as insignificant life by those in power.

Will is like the flag on the battlefield. Even if there are only a few strips of cloth left, even if the person holding it has fallen to the ground and dies and rots, the flag still stands up and stands proudly in the wind and does not distinguish between us.

The wind of Dollas became so thick and so cold because of the strong bloody smell. The sky of Dollas was reflected in red by blood that had not yet dried up on the earth and was red, and even the blood moon Simana could not shine.

Hell, that's it.

The soldiers on both sides no longer cleaned the battlefield. At best, they brought back the bodies of the noble generals when they were withdrawing the troops and handed them over to the troops responsible for logistics to register. In this way, after their families claimed the battle, they would receive a considerable tip, provided that you could survive until the war ended.

Dead nobles are more valuable than living civilian soldiers, but who will criticize them? People in this world have long been obedient to the rules.

"Ahh, this is... the scoundrel of the Stefan family?" A soldier named Roy turned on a corpse wearing painted black tumen armor and a golden gladiolus badge on his chest. After a numb, almost dead and cold eyes appeared with a hint of excitement.

If the body is handed back and ended until the war is over, you can definitely make a fortune. Every person from the Menid Empire knows that the Steman family means wealth and generosity.

"Griffili Steman?" Another soldier named Goul ran over and wiped the blood from the corpse's face and confirmed the identity of the deceased. However, there was no light of money in his eyes, but kicked Griffili's chest and spit out a mouthful of dirty saliva on his thin face.

Roy, who had previously discovered Griffili's body, knew why he hated the dead when Goul called out the name of the dead. Griffili, the grandson of the imperial foreign minister Duke Siester and the first heir to the family, was one of the notorious Eight Eight Evils in Kyoto Ronago City, the Menid Empire. He once led a group of noble scum to rape Goul's sister in broad daylight. Goul was captured by the city defense force and was now sent to the battlefield of Dollas.

After the two soldiers looked at each other tacitly, they took off the badge on Griffili's chest, looked at the dead pit not far away, picked up Griffili and threw him in. They vowed to make his soul unable to be redeemed, to make him a lonely ghost, and to suffer for thousands of years.

The bodies were thrown in and soon covered Griffili's body. They did not even dig up the soil to bury or cremate. In fact, they threw the bodies into the pit, just to let their troops less obstacles when they were deploying troops tomorrow.

When corpses can also become obstacles, the cruelty of war is self-evident.

The darkest time is on the eve of dawn. At this time, there are no lights or lights. At the darkest time of Dollas, the world is strangely dark brown, like dry blood.

A hand stretched out from the gap between the dead body in the pit. The slender joints can be better than the hands of the beautiful artist. Even if the hand is covered with blood at this moment, it can remind you of him painting or drawing with blood.

The hand, holding it hard in the void, seemed to want to grab something, finally let go in vain, and then pressed the whole palm against the chest of a corpse, and then he turned it out of the dead pit, lying on the edge of the pit, gasping for breath, as if at this moment, he had used up all the strength he had accumulated.

During the whole process, he did not open his eyes immediately because he was dead in his memory. At that moment, he clearly felt that his consciousness had dissipated. If he could live in a dream with his eyes closed, it would be better than waking up from the dream with his eyes open.

No one who has died once hopes to live, even if, in a dream, only that kind of conscious feeling is left...

His consciousness remained at the moment before his death: in the bustling and cholera city night, he was a notorious gangster brother, but was plotted to death by his own woman and brothers. Then a black lightning struck him, and his whole body was destroyed...

"Smelling the fragrance of blood, I found the palace of requiem." A strange word suddenly appeared in his mind. He muttered aside, and his hand had subconsciously touched the back of his heart. There was his woman, his brother, who gave him a fatal blow.

Then he immediately stood up in fear, and the brown fog caught his eyes. He shouted loudly, "Damn, which one is a dream?" Yes, he couldn't tell the difference between dreams and reality. The cause of everything came from his back, which was smoother and smoother than a woman's skin. There were scars in memory.

Climbing out of the pile of dead people, as a gangster boss in his previous life, it was not the first time he encountered it. Therefore, he did not feel nauseous and stomach-disgusting at the piles of corpses around him, and was extremely shocked. However, the brown space around him made him feel cold from his heart. He couldn't help but ask in his heart, "Is this hell?"

Without the fusion of consciousness, he did not know that his soul had now occupied Griffili's already dead body, and the new memory had appeared.

The brown night, his eyes had become a decoration, and his ears were filled with hoarse winds, like the low voices of demons and the sings of ghosts. All his senses could only be touched. He found a direction casually and began to trek.
Chapter completed!