Chapter 861 Resurrection

This seems to be a story about heroes and knights.

But not a story of heroes and knights.

In the existing memory of the 32nd, no drama has ever set the tone with such a picture - it has a kind of real and suffocating depression, but also reveals a kind of difficult The power of the description seems to have the smell of steel and flames escaping from the depths of the picture, surrounding the young knight in military uniform.

It wasn't gorgeous enough, wasn't refined enough, and didn't have religious or royal symbols—the nobles who were accustomed to traditional drama would not have liked it, especially the bloodstain on young knights' faces and the criss-crossing scars on their armor, Although these things are true, they are too "ugly" to be true.

The nobles of the old days preferred to watch knights wearing gorgeous and flamboyant golden armor, eradicating evil under the protection of gods, or watching princesses and knights wandering between castles and manors, chanting some gorgeous and empty chapters. , even if there is a battlefield, it is also the "pigment" used to decorate love.

Those painted canaries cannot withstand the scorching of iron and fire.

However, ordinary people who have never been in contact with the "high society" cannot think of this. They don't know what the aristocratic gentlemen were doing every day. They just think that what they see in front of them is part of the "drama". There was a lot of discussion around the large, beautiful portrait.

No. 32 also stood under the outer wall of the auditorium for a long time, looking up at the huge painting with a height of more than three meters - its original version may be from a certain artist, but the one hanging here at the moment should be It was a replica made by a machine - for half a minute, this tall and silent man just watched silently, without saying a word, his face covered with bandages was like a stone.

Until the partner's voice came from the side: "Hi - No. 32, what's the matter with you?"

The tall man just woke up like a dream, he blinked, looked away from the promotional poster of the magic shadow drama, and looked around in confusion, as if he didn't know for a while whether he was in reality or in a dream, and he didn't know himself. Why is he here, but he quickly reacted and said in a muffled voice, "It's okay."

"You never say so little," the dark-skinned man shook his head, "you must have been dumbfounded—to tell the truth, I was dumbfounded at first glance, what a beautiful painting! I couldn't see it in the countryside before. This kind of thing..."

During the conversation, the surrounding crowd was already surging. It seemed that it was finally time for the opening of the auditorium. No. 32 heard a whistle coming from the direction of the gate not far away - it must be the construction captain hanging around his neck every day. The copper whistle, whose sharp and loud sound is familiar to everyone here.

The partner pushed him again: "Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up,

If you miss it, there is no good place! I heard from the mechanic who delivered the supplies last time, the ghost drama is a rare thing, even in the south, not many cities can see it! "

Ah, the rarities—there are so many rarities in this day and age.

On the 32nd, he didn't speak. He was pushed by his partner and mixed into the crowd. He followed the crowd into the auditorium. Many people crowded in. This place, which is usually used for morning meetings and classes, quickly filled up. There was a large number of magic devices on the wooden platform at the front of the lobby.

It looks like a magic net terminal, but it is much larger and more complicated than the magic net terminal used for communication in the camp. On a large triangular base, there are several projection crystals of different sizes forming a crystal array. There was a shimmering light in the sky, and it was obviously ready to be debugged.

No. 32 sat down and sat under the wooden table with the others. The partner chatted excitedly beside him, and made an opinion before the start of the magic movie: they finally occupied a slightly forward position. It made him appear to be in a good mood, and he was not the only one who was excited, making the entire auditorium seem noisy.

Then, the mechanical bell set up in the auditorium rang rapidly and sharply, and the complex and huge magic machine on the wooden platform began to operate, accompanied by a magic projection that was large enough to cover the entire platform and a low and solemn sound of music. The noisy place finally calmed down.

here we go.

People who were busy expressing various opinions and making various guesses were quickly attracted by the things that appeared in front of them——

At first, when the projection and the sound first appeared, some people thought it was just some kind of special magic web broadcast, but when a story that seemed to be happening suddenly came into view, everyone's mind was firmly fixed by the projection. sucked.

It was a breathtaking story about a catastrophe, a man-made disaster, a brave knight, a group of victims who fell like mustards, a group of people who fought bravely, and a noble and tragic sacrifice - the Great Hall The people in the middle held their breaths, and everyone restrained their voices, but slowly, very soft voices came from all corners.

This is not the kind of traditional drama that the aristocrats watch. It leaves out the pomp and obscurity of traditional drama, the long and short poems and empty and useless heroic confessions that require more than ten years of grammar accumulation to understand. The straightforwardly narrated story makes everything as easy to understand as if it was told by someone who has experienced it in person, and this straightforward simplicity makes people in the hall quickly understand the content of the play, and quickly realize that this is exactly what happened. The catastrophe they had been through - a catastrophe recorded from another point of view.

"Ah, that windmill!" The partner sitting next to him suddenly couldn't help but shouted in a low voice. The man who was born and raised in the Holy Spirit Plain stared straight at the projection on the stage and repeated it over and over again, "Cabre The windmill...that's Cabre's windmill...my nephew's family lives there..."

Someone else whispered nearby: "That's Solimburg, right? I know the city wall over there..."

"This... this is someone who recorded everything that happened at that time? God, how did they do it..."

"Certainly not, didn't I say it, it's a drama - the drama is fake, I know, those are the actors and the set..."

"But they look so real, they look real!"

"Yeah, it looks so real..."

In front of everyone, many familiar things appeared, and then those familiar things disappeared one by one, and soon, the people in the hall became quiet again, and it became quieter than before.

Thirty-two sits like a silent sculpture among the quiet people, watching the irreversible catastrophe develop step by step in the magical image, watching the last knight in the fallen land step on him Final journey.

He watched it all silently.

Time passed unknowingly, and this incredible "drama" finally came to an end.

However, no one moved, and No. 32 sat in silence like everyone else.

It wasn't until the end of the story appeared on the projection, until the producer's name list and a low and tactful ending song appeared at the same time, the dark-skinned partner sitting next to him suddenly took a deep breath, as if he was calming down, and then Then he noticed No. 32 who was still staring at the projection screen. He squeezed a smile and pushed the other person's arm: "No. 32, you are still watching - it's over."

"Ah... yeah... it's over..."

"Seeing that 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 his eyes drooped with a smile, "Indeed, indeed attractive... This is the former nobleman Did you watch the 'drama'... it's really not ordinary, not ordinary..."

"It's not like this is the drama that nobles watch." No. 32 said in a muffled voice.

"As if you've seen it before," the partner shook his head, then muttered thoughtfully, "It's gone..."

No. 32 did not speak, he looked at the stage, where the projections did not go out due to the end of the "drama", those subtitles were still scrolling up, and now it has reached the end, and after the end of the final list, line by line The huge word suddenly appeared, once again attracting the attention of many people.

"I dedicate this play to every victim of the war, to every brave soldier and commander, to those who lost their loved ones, and to those who survived.

"To this land we love so much, to the rebuilders of this land.

"Dedicated to—Berke Lauren."

The magic projection over the wooden table finally dissipated, and after a while, a bell came from the direction of the hall exit.

One by one, the people got up and left, but one person remained, sitting there as silently as if the bell had not been heard.

"Number thirty-two?" The dark-skinned man pushed his partner's arm and whispered with a hint of concern, "Number thirty-two! It's time to go, the bell is ringing."

However, the tall man who covered the scars on his body with bandages just sat there motionless, as if he was out of his body for a long time without speaking. He seemed to be still immersed in the story that had ended, until his partner pushed continuously. Several times, he just woke up from a dream with an "ah" sound.

"You won't be dumbfounded, will you?" The partner looked over suspiciously, "This is not your usual appearance."

"I..." No. 32 opened his mouth, but said nothing.

The partner looked back at the extinguished projection device, the dark-skinned man pursed his lips, and after two seconds muttered in a low voice, "But I'm not much better than you... The things in there are real. It's like... No. 32, do you think that story is true?"

Thirty-two finally stood up slowly and said in a low voice, "We are rebuilding this place, at least it's true."

The partner glanced at him a little surprised, as if he didn't expect the other party to take the initiative to show such a positive idea, then the dark-skinned man grinned and smiled: "That's right, this is the place where our ancestors have lived for generations."

"I gave myself a name." Thirty-two suddenly said.

"Ah?" The partner felt that he couldn't keep up with Thirty-two's train of thought, but he quickly responded, "Ah, that's good! You're finally going to give yourself a name-although I call you Thirty-two I'm quite used to it... By the way, what name did you name yourself?"

Thirty-two was silent for a few seconds, then spit out a few words: "Just call Sam."

The partner was stunned for a moment, and then he couldn't help laughing and crying: "You thought of such a name for a long time - you are still literate, do you know how many Sams there are in this camp alone?"

"I think it's a good name."

"But the soil is terrible. Isn't there a saying that the lord's grain piles are lined up, and forty Sams are busy in it - the farmer is called Sam, the digger is called Sam, and the horse feeder and woodcutter are also called Sam. It's Sam, and it's all Sam who works on the ground!"

Thirty-two suddenly smiled.

The face, covered with bandages, scars, and clumps, looked a little weird in this smile, but the bright eyes glowed.

He said with a slightly happy tone: "So, the name is quite good."

"Then do whatever you want," the partner shrugged helplessly. "We have to go anyway—everyone is gone."

Next to the exit of the hall, a man in uniform was standing there, urging the last few people in the hall who did not leave with his eyes.

No. 32 nodded. He followed behind his partner, puffing out his chest like a soldier who had just recovered, and walked towards the exit of the hall.

At the exit, there is also a large "poster" of "Beacon Fire", and the young knight with a sword stands heroically on the ground, his eyes are like torches.

Although the "actor" in the ghost drama and this young man are six or seven points alike, after all, the "poster" is what he remembers.

He walked past the poster, paused slightly, and said in a low voice that no one could hear:

"Goodbye, son."

Then Sam left.

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