Chapter 531 382 New Life (No Protagonist)

The guards' fists were like raindrops, constantly hitting Jon Skylar's face. Facing the guards' beatings, he did not yield, but spat out a mouthful of blood at the guards, then sneered. As a result... he would definitely not get a good result, and more raindrops hit his face.

In just three days, Jon Skylar had been tortured beyond recognition. He was beaten wantonly by the guards like a sandbag, of course, this was only the lightest abuse. When the guards knew that he was afraid of fire as a vampire, he lived in the heat, of course, there was no depth of water. Vampires are afraid of fire but not water, and there is no water in the cell. It can only be said that the Sigma Cult still has a trace of humanity? Or have the guards not thought of it yet?

The guards handcuffed Jon Skylar with silver shackles that were specially blessed for vampires, and burned every part of his body with torches, turning his skin into a festering state that could not heal for a long time, but it didn't matter, because he was Jon Skylar, and he would not yield!

"That's all you can do? This! Is that all you can do? Soldier?" Jon Skylan sneered after spitting out blood again.

The guard who was beating Jon Skylan stopped punching him. He took a step back and looked at Jon Skylan with a surprised look, then pounced on him and beat him harder than before, as if he was responding to Jon Skylan with his actions. After beating him for a while, he retreated panting. Of course, he didn't stop there. This was just a short halftime break, just like his usual training. He looked around with heavy breaths, and soon he saw what he was looking for. Under the indifference of Priest Sigma in the cell, he walked towards it.

Jon Skylan, who had no way to avoid it, was knocked to the ground by the bolt. He lay on the ground with his eyes rolled up and gasped. The guard went around behind him, raised the bolt and hit him hard on the back of his neck, hitting him hard as he was trying to move. He tried to stand up with his hands, but he couldn't. His hands were handcuffed behind his back. When he fell, he couldn't support himself. Lying on the ground, gasping for breath, the guards put their feet on his ribs. He gasped and stretched his knees to his chest. The uneven reeds pierced his face.

In just three days, Jon Skylan had become accustomed to this kind of life. He had become accustomed to the beatings from the guards. Having received witch hunter training, he knew how to protect his vulnerable parts. In his opinion, the guards lacked a certain imagination and hatred that made torture more terrible, because he could feel that the guards were not actually cold-blooded, because the guards still had humanity.

Jon Skylan drew strength from the beatings and exercised his endurance limit. He knew that the beatings day after day would only make him stronger. He was not a fool. He was also a member of the Sigma Cult. He was familiar with everything about the Sigma Cult. If his former colleagues wanted him dead, he would have died long ago. He would not have any illusions and let the guards manipulate him.

However, it was not. Jon Skylan knew that the fact was that his former colleagues wanted him to live, or that there were other forces that wanted him to live. The reason was simple. He was recognized during the screening process. His identity was too special. He had set out from Altdorf to investigate Sylvania. Just twenty years had passed, and his former colleagues were still there, but unlike him, his age was frozen after he became a vampire. His colleagues became old or in high positions, just like the one he killed at the East City Gap.

In short, Jon Skylan believed that humans needed him, at least for now. Despite the guards' insults and taunts, and the tortures they used, humans still needed their vampire pets, either as hostages or as the focus of political interests. This gave him a chance to resist, and he knew that if he had the chance, he would escape.

The cell door was closed, and the guards and Sigma Reverend left. Jon Skylan, who was imprisoned in the cell, lay on the floor covered with dirty reeds, and there were more than just reeds in the cell. While torturing him, the guards also gave him a blanket to keep out the cold and damp. Rats crawled in through the cracks in the stone wall, kept him company, and slept with him.

After the lonely Jon Skylan had a new friend, he greeted his friend as he had treated his friend before, and he lured the rat to his side. When the rat relaxed his guard and came to him cautiously, he was no longer like when the guards beat him. His vampire body gave him good physical fitness, and he would rush at the rat when he found the right opportunity. He was so grateful to his new friend, he was so thirsty, his friend had precious new blood, and blood would give him a new life.

——

The Vampire Wars brought heavy casualties to Altdorf, the city would survive, and it would die like the humans. Altdorf's pulse has weakened and become unstable, and life here is suffocating. Although the residents do their best to live their old lives and pretend that nothing has happened, it still casts a shadow on Altdorf's former glory.

Alaric finds Altdorf both fascinating and tragic, and denial seems to be an important part of humanity's survival. Even though he was an Imperial dwarf born in Altdorf, he couldn't figure it out, and he wondered more than once how the humans did it. This does not seem to require any skills, but a necessary means. Perhaps humans must learn to deny, otherwise humans will live in pain, just like being sucked dry by vampires. Perhaps humans’ denial is those who pay the price for freedom. a kind of respect.

For Alaric, it doesn't matter as the days pass, the weeks pass, and the years pass. Although dwarves cannot achieve near-immortality like elves, dwarves are also immortals. For dwarves, for dwarves, for For him, the passage of time has lost its meaning. There is no difference between today and yesterday, no difference between today and last month, and no difference between today and a few years ago. But the death of his father and relatives in the war overshadowed every day of his life. The pain flowed in his blood and made him drunk.

If anything, humans and dwarves are at least looking to the future rather than living in the festering past. Alaric, who woke up from a hangover, realized this. Perhaps he should learn from anthropology and look forward to a new life, but only if the honor of his father and relatives was upheld.

"Thank you, I learned everything that happened that night from my daughter's mouth, thank you for saving my daughter's life. If...I...I..."

Alaric raised his head and looked at the human standing in front of him. The human male's face was very haggard and haggard. He could see the man's red and swollen eyes through the man's messy hair, and through the steel crossbow and steel crossbow on his back. From the attire he was wearing, he could confirm that the man standing in front of him was a provincial soldier. But at this time, the man stood there, choking and trembling with excitement. He could feel the man's sadness and pain, but at the same time there was a trace of happiness. After all, his daughter was back by his side. It would be better if his wife came back. But unfortunately, he only saw Amy that night and did not see Amy's mother.

"Your daughter is very strong and brave. She saved herself. I just did what I could." After a moment of silence, Alaric shook his head at the man and said, then he looked at Ai Mi, then said, "We want to start a new life again, right? Child."

"Yes, Uncle Dwarf, thank you, thank you for everything you did that night." Although it was daytime, Amy's left hand still held the lantern that night, and her right hand held her father's hand. The war changed her family. She could not find her mother's body. The house she lived in before was burned and collapsed by the fire. Her eyes were red and swollen, but she still kept her spirits up and faced the dwarf who saved her that night. said the uncle.

After Amy finished speaking, she released her father's hand, put down the lantern, opened her arms to the dwarf uncle who was only slightly taller than her, and then hugged the dwarf uncle tightly. She had a hunch that this might be the last time she saw her dwarf uncle.

After hugging for a moment, Alaric patted Amy's back gently, then nodded to the man standing there, then picked up the ax standing on the ground, turned and left, his figure slowly Disappear into the crowd, disappear into the intersection of the street.

"Father..." Amy picked up the lantern and squeezed her father's hand again. She raised her head and said. Facing her father's questioning gaze, she shook her head. After all, she still did not say the next words.

Alaric's residence is located in the North City District. It is relatively well-preserved and has not been affected too much, unlike his friends. But he didn't want to stay in Altdorf anymore. He didn't know where he was going. Maybe he should go back to the mountains, but before leaving Altdorf, he still had two things to do.

Alaric walked through the narrow streets and watched the women cleaning the debris of the house, trying to find some things that could be used later. Some young and ignorant children were running wildly, as if they were on an adventure. And some are helping their mother rummage for useful things.

Altdorf is a reborn city. Alaric frowned as he walked, a feeling of dissatisfaction welling up in his heart. He saw some moneylenders surrounded by crowds, and people holding various items lined up at the door of the pawn shop. He knew that in every city there were people who took advantage of other people's plight for personal gain, but the sight of this still made him sick. Those humans profit from suffering, which all goes against the idea of ​​people coming together in difficult times.

On the other side of the square, at the entrance to the Thalia Church that was burned by Alaric that night, a desolate scene came into view. People lined up in a long line with soup bowls in their hands, waiting for the priest's alms. Their eyes revealed endless hunger and despair.

For many people, poverty is no longer an unfamiliar word. People were once proud and confident, but now, in the face of hunger and suffering, these feelings seem to have become so accustomed. In the long queue, a woman was crying desperately. Her eyes no longer had the strength and courage of the past, but only endless sadness and despair.

Alaric's heart was pounding as he knew that the city was overwhelmed by vampire hatred and that everyone had lost something in this war. He didn't want to imagine the depth of pain that woman suffered, because he couldn't do anything, just like that night. That night made him understand that some things are not something he can do whatever he wants. Like, if it weren't for the sun...

Pollock sat on the steps at the corner of the street, using a dagger used to handle meat scraps to carve a strangely shaped wooden stick. Behind him was a ruin, which was also his former home.

Alaric, who had been standing on the corner and observing for a moment, appeared in front of Pollock. The ruins in front of him used to be his friend's butcher shop, and Pollock sitting there was his friend's son. With his arrival, Pollock stopped carve wood and looked up at him. He also looked at Pollock. In the dwarf culture, Pollock was just a child who had just learned to walk. When he went to drink with his friends, he would always bring Pollock some gifts from the North City. He liked this child, his friend's child, but this time, he did not bring any gifts.

"Uncle... my father?"

"He returned to Grimnir's arms. He was brave. He fought to the last moment. You should be proud of him, my child."

"I... I... am a little scared."

"Life goes on, child. Look around you. Every human is recovering his past life bit by bit."

Pollock did not respond to Alaric's words. Instead, he curled up and hugged his knees with his hands.

Alaric thought he was telling the truth. Those who survived tried to piece together the broken fragments before, trying to fill the gaps left by their loved ones. Humans and dwarves fell to protect this once great city, but how could he explain all this to a child like Pollock.

"Come on, child, hold my hand tightly. We should go out for a walk." After a long time, Alaric stretched out his hand to Pollock and said.

After completing one thing, Alaric had to continue to complete another thing. He took Pollock to walk on the street and came to the bridge. The smell of the river stung his nostrils. The ocean was not a place he wanted to adapt to. It was hard to imagine people enjoying the ocean swaying and rolling beneath their feet. He shook his head. He did not deny the importance of shipping, but if he had a choice, he would definitely leave a few mountains between himself and the sea.

Ships had arrived, bringing much-needed food to Altdorf, but in Alaric's opinion, even with the influx of food, the city was still in famine, and it would take many years for all this to recover. The pollution brought by the army of the dead from this land tainted everything. The army of the dead left behind disease and blight, fetuses and lambs were stillborn, cheese curdled, and granaries rotted.

Alaric took Pollock to stand on the bridge for a while. He looked at everything in the dock area, watching the dock workers operate a rigging machine to load and unload cargo. When the crew pushed the boxes out of the cabin, the workers kept working, moving like a group of ants, busy with purpose, but completely independent of each other. This was so fascinating to him. He was not the only one interested in the ships. People gathered on the docks, curious about what these ships would bring, eager to know if there was food there.

In Alaric's opinion, it was great to see those ships at the dock. Without ships, Altdorf would soon become a ghost town. People needed ships. He saw that the ships did not bring food, but some fruits. After learning that it was fruit, the people gathered at the dock sighed and dispersed, and continued to look for other ships, while some stayed. He realized that the captain was really a shrewd man. He understood the value of these luxury goods. Fruits would not have much effect on hunger, but would soothe the nerves of the city.

Alaric thought of this and turned to look at Pollock. He saw Pollock's curious eyes. Maybe Pollock should get something, such as a simple fruit to make Pollock's day unusual. Maybe fruit can bring happiness to Pollock, so that Pollock can temporarily forget his father who died in the war and the pain. Sometimes, happiness may be more important than a full stomach. Maybe this is not happiness, but hope. Maybe he should take the responsibility of being a father instead of his friend.

Maybe... there is no maybe. Thinking about it, Alaric nodded to Pollock, and then he took Pollock's hand and walked in the opposite direction of Sigma Cathedral. (End of this chapter)