Chapter 1049 The short life burns brilliantly (big update with w word)

What is real living?

Fire.

A prairie fire was ignited, and the Busot plain turned into a blazing sea of ​​​​fire. The crimson brilliance shone, causing the sky to be reflected in a bright red.

A child stood in the middle of the plain, with flames as his plaything and fierce flames as his servants. He ignited the endless 'weeds' parasitic magic plants that once entangled on the Busot Plains, and removed the insects living in them.

All the rat monsters were burned to ashes.

With a confused look on his face, he was worshiped as a god by the farmers of Busot Plains. The burning king's blood heralded the emergence of a strong man in the future, and the child's parents also looked at him with complex and expectant eyes.

Everyone has expectations for the future, but the children are confused and uneasy.

Those lush shrubs, those vibrant lives, those complex and exquisite caves and nests, those exquisite symbiotic systems, were all wiped out by him with a little flame. The life on this plain was obviously so bright and green, but it was

Turn yourself into nothingness.

Yes. This is necessary. People need to cultivate land, need crops, and need to live, so they need to eliminate other life.

The farmers cheered and worshiped, because the flames burned away the weeds and fertilized the earth, and there would be a bumper harvest next year. My father was also excited because, because of his talent, they had the hope of returning to the blood of the king.

Life is destroyed, and the flames are so bright, it seems that the greatest meaning of life is the brilliance of destruction.

"Father, why do we burn so many lives?"

"Because these are weeds and pests. If we want to survive, we have to kill them."

"What's the difference between us? Can others kill us just to live?"

"Well...because we have thoughts. Are we thinking humans?"

This question is difficult for even the child's father to answer. He has no education. Although he has royal blood, it has become very thin over the generations. He attaches great importance to this child whose blood has returned to his ancestors, so he will think seriously: "I must say

If so, we should be more important than these weed rats."

"As for others who want to kill us, we will kill them too."

all the same.

In the middle of the pitch-black plain, among the endless ashes, the child raised his head and looked up at the sky. The sun shone on everything, not changing due to the movements of any creature on the earth, nor shining due to anyone's worship or cheers.

To it, everything that happens on the earth must be the same.

No matter who lives or who dies, the sun will never get any brighter or darker.

"Boring."

He whispered to himself.

Dastyr Absalom was born in a basin plain surrounded by mountains. He has lived with his father, a forest ranger, since he was a child. As a fringe king of blood, his father was even used as a test subject to gain greater power.

He has no chance, so he can only manage farmers and hunters in this remote mountainous area, and be the master of the beasts in the mountains.

Since he was a child, Dastil has seen many different kinds of life and grown up in the vibrant nature.

But he couldn't feel the 'reality of being alive'.

Apes wander in the woods looking for food all day long. The monkey king leads the group, avoids powerful enemies, allocates resources, and then leaves offspring, like a machine day after day.

There are even monkeys who are driven by the monkey king all their lives and cannot even leave any descendants throughout their lives. They can only work hard for the group until death... They search, eat, sleep, day and night cycle, and time passes every day.

Eventually it turns into a corpse and withered bones, losing all traces left in the world.

Is this alive?

Leaving the jungle, what about the farmers on the plains? Those old farmers whose hands and feet are full of calluses, they have cultivated all their lives and harvested all their lives. They have cultivated their whole lives in the soil and cultivated more land. They left behind their descendants, and their descendants are also farmers.

Day after day, year after year, eventually the entire Busot Plain became the cultivated land of Feiyan. However, as farmers, they still had so much land, and their harvests and taxes were still the same.

Yes, a mutated weed and an atavistic rat plague can return the entire Busot Plain to its original appearance - farmers' decades of cultivation can be restored to its original state overnight.

Finally, he burned it and turned it into ashes.

Back and forth, nothing changed.

So, what is the difference between monkeys in the jungle and humans on the plains?

Where are human thoughts, human wisdom, and the reality of human life... where are they?

Due to Dastil's astonishing talent, their family was recalled to the Yanyuan Land, and his father became a warrior of the Flying Flame Land, obeying the orders of his great-grandfather, the twelfth son of this generation of Yanyuan King.

His father was extremely happy, because this was his honor, and it was also an excellent opportunity - Dastil's growth required resources, which were not available in the rural Busot Plains. The only way was to become a warrior of the Flying Fire Land, and through

It can only be obtained by fighting between life and death. He never doubts his child's potential. As long as he is allowed to grow up, his brilliance will attract the attention of the whole world.

The young child watched the warriors leave the palace, and watched the warriors leave the palace one after another. They were his father, uncles and uncles. These sons of the king, who have the blood of the king and seem to be more noble than farmers and hunters, are also driven by

There is no difference between a group of monkeys and worker bees leaving the nest. If they want to get more food, power and treatment, they can only make meritorious deeds.

They fought hard, and the warriors of the Fire Land fought against the Far Shore Island, the Seven Cities Alliance, the Empire, and their own people inside the Fire Land. Although Absalom and Nirmathas were actually one body, they

There are still huge internal disputes.

The child understands all this. He is waiting for his father's return in his mother's arms, waiting for him to step through the door frame.

But his father did not come back, and the man died brilliantly.

According to the only surviving uncle, the man used his own life to hold back a knight commander of the empire, allowing the construct knight to pour out firepower that could flatten the mountains, leaving the opponent with fatal injuries.

It was worth it. They said that life should burn brightly like this, and that man was worthy of the blood of Yan Yuan.

Really? The child thought this way. Is life really supposed to be used like this, just a flash of bright burning?

Looking at the black and white photos of his father, listening to his mother's cries, and the praise and flattery of others, the child recalled the days when his father took him walking and laughing in the jungle.

Those days, those days...

Those days were like the wilderness that I had set on fire when I was a child. All the green and life turned into nothingness, and eventually lost all color and turned into ashes under the scorching flames.

Because of his father's contribution, Dastil grew up smoothly. As a young boy, he had enough strength to become a warrior of the Flying Fire Land.

He and his brothers, sisters and uncles went on missions together and accepted the orders of King Yanyuan. They assassinated enemy leaders, attacked the rear, faced head-on confrontations, or served as a special operations team in war to sneak into the enemy's territory to destroy... They collected

Intelligence, steal precious materials, and defeat difficult colleagues.

Of course, they will also eradicate the monsters in the territory and eliminate the bandits in the country. They will suppress the rebellious civilians and fight against natural disasters.

The warriors of Feiyan Land, the descendants of Feiyan King... they are like a huge beehive. Everyone is running to become the king, but the vast majority of people are just worker bees fighting for the hive throughout their lives.

Dastil was just bored by all this.

His most chosen task was to kill people. This was no different to him than setting fire to the plains of Busot. He killed many people, including the elite sorcerers of the Far Shore Island, the heavily armored swordsmen of the Seven Cities Alliance, the Empire's

Elite Knight... He often chooses the opponents who seem to be the toughest, and returns alive every time.

Ordinary people often say that there is great terror between life and death, and some people say that there is great excitement between life and death. No matter who you are, you can find the meaning of your life.

But for him, there is no fear or pleasure between life and death. He kills people like setting fire to weeds, and there is no difference between enemies and weeds. They will all turn into ashes, and they will all nourish the earth, and this world

Still won't change.

The monkey is still a monkey, the farmer is still a farmer, the king still rules the warriors, and the nobles rule the people. The sun will not shine one bit brighter or dimmer.

Where is the true feeling of being alive? How is it so dazzling that people can kill other lives at any cost, just to let themselves live a few more days?

Why do I exist in this world?

He was called the undead of Yanyuan, the ashes from Busot. As he killed more and more enemies, his reputation became higher and higher, until the King of Yanyuan cast his eyes on him for his talent and

The strength surprises and gives the final test.

That time, Dastil encountered an unkillable person for the first time.

He cannot be killed no matter what, he will be healed by slashing with a sword, and he will be regenerated by burning with flames. The more he attacks, the tougher he becomes, and the more he burns, the more penetrating he becomes.

His skills were superb and his strength was powerful. When facing him, Dastil felt the 'real feeling' that he would die for the first time.

Yes, yes! That’s what it feels like!

Why do I want to live? There must be a reason, there must be an answer!

His flames became more intense, and Dastil was like a fiery storm sweeping across the heaven and earth, scorching this unkillable enemy - he burned his own life, destroying, destroying and igniting at all costs.

He will turn everything into ashes.

But that person always remains standing.

Savaga Niemathas. The genius of Tengshadi, the strongest of the younger generation of Niemathas bloodline.

The tenacity of his will and the strength of his regeneration are enough to withstand Dastil's flames.

"Isn't it painful?"

The man asked at that time: "You are burned by me like this. What is it that keeps you alive?"

"Flying Flame Land needs me."

The shell had turned into charcoal, and the pitch-black man walked out of the flame storm, his tired eyes extremely firm: "Dastil, can't you hear Feiyandi crying?"

cry?

Cry?
To be continued...