"I heard Peter say at lunch, hey, guess what? The Marshal lost to the princess."

. You see, didn't she specially insert two beautiful boys into the army? I guess she wanted to give her own people some merit."

"Well...but there is a lot of news about tumbleweed recently, those two boys are really good at it."

"Forget it, there must be someone behind them. When have you ever seen a sea scorpion with such a soft attitude?"

The soft-mannered Oliver and Nemo sat in the tent slightly embarrassed, and were forced to listen to the soldiers outside the tent whispering. After the senses became more sensitive, such embarrassing little things became a lot more.

"To be honest, I'd rather go to the battlefield in the west." The conversation outside the tent continued, and one of its voices became a little dull. "There are many demon believers among the enemies here. If the legend is correct, maybe there will be a demon warlock. Recently, Alban's side is getting more and more outrageous... Actually put those evil things in On the battlefield!"

Oliver looked at Nemo silently - the Evil King beside him was at a loss for words, he stretched out his arms understandingly, wrapped his shoulders around him, and patted him twice soothingly.

"If the late emperor was still alive, he would not allow such absurd things to happen." Another voice sighed.

"Yeah, to put it in an ugly way, the prince is not the material to be the emperor."

The guard lowered his voice: "When the old emperor was still there, he spoiled him, and the land in my hometown will be under his control. Oh, you don't know, he is messing around all day. The policy, our senior officers are going crazy with that pile of stuff. The rule changes once every two months, this month's heat has not been recorded, and it will change again next month - the effect is not good at first sight. , the prince changed his mind and made it like a joke."

The other co-operated with a toothache-like gasp.

"Compared with the late emperor, although His Majesty the King did not do much, he has been stable for so many years. With the prince's temperament, I guess he has long been disliked by this brother. You see, Before the news of His Majesty's death, the demon believers can go to the battlefield with integrity, it's really a hell."

"There must be 20,000 people on the opposite side this time? It's okay to say that it's all people, in case there is a demon warlock..."

"What else can I do, I can only trust the marshal - the marshal always has a way."

"I thought the adults would get us some dragon breath stone weapons, but only two black badges were sent. I don't want them to use it, and don't do bad things. Oh, will it be? Is it the princess who made trouble with the marshal? I hope the marshal won't be stalked by her, how can a woman care about the battlefield. Where did the princess go all these years? Could it really be captured by a dragon?"

"...taken by the dragon." Oliver repeated in a low voice, "I think Ann is more likely to be drinking friends with the dragon."

"Yeah...but when it comes to this, I have to pay attention to the casting section. If the identity of the superior demon is completely exposed, Anxiang can't forgive me." Nemo pressed his forehead, "Since It's spread among the soldiers, it seems that Marshal Gallagher is not alarmist, the news that there is a demon warlock on the opposite side is 99% true."

The soldiers chatted and chatted, and the treatment for them was not bad at all.

Hot pea soup with bacon, the bread on the plate is still fluffy even if it is cold, and the large pieces of grilled chicken drizzled with the sauce lie next to the bread. Nemo has absolutely no appetite.

When they leave this camp and advance a little further, the two armies are likely to come into contact. Even with some memories of Ulysses before his death, Nemo still had a lot of resistance to war.

Although on the adventure, occasionally similar thoughts swept through his heart, this time the feeling was particularly strong—

Unlike epic or biographical descriptions, no war appears to be "tragic" on the surface.

On the battlefield there will only be madness, ugliness, blood and despair. People died for what they believed in, or worse—they lost their lives before they figured out why they were fighting.

The skies over the battlefield won't be cloudy, there's no accompaniment of lightning and thunder, and the weather may even be fine. The blood seeps silently into the land, the fight continues in a pattern, and the poets always make it as compelling as the only thing going on in the world.

Perhaps from a human point of view, it does.

But for Nemo, it brings him back to Ulysses' perspective.

He didn't really like the feeling - like standing on the edge of a cliff and stepping a foot into the void in front of him.

Even if I don’t have much memory, Nemo can still feel what the war in Ulysses’ eyes was like. Like sweeping the dust off a bookshelf, or shooting a hornet's nest in the way with a flaming oil arrow.

Small, trivial, and may occupy a corner of my memory, but it was still an ordinary day. If you think about it, humans probably don't think it's an amazing battle to sprinkle some liquid medicine in the garden and kill insects.

For a long time, in his subconscious, the Demon King was the most dangerous "enemy" of the surface race. The relationship between oneself and the surface creatures cannot escape the scope of love and hatred.

As the battlefield approaches, Ulysses' memory becomes more vivid. Nemo was beginning to become unsure of his past thoughts—as the vague feelings of his memories became clear, it wasn't anger, murder, or hatred that swirled in his heart.

There is only calm indifference.

If you can think like a human being, then for garden insects, human beings are probably a terrifying role like a "demon king" - destroying all with ***, young and old, destroying their nests , crushed their corpses. And their "evil behavior" is just to follow the instinct to eat, reproduce and survive.

People just want to make flowers look better.

Nemo even wanted to panic and become violent because of the war, which was better than dead silence at this time. If his forgotten feelings are really hate, then when he recovers his memory, maybe he can use his love for Ollie to heal part of the darkness.

Love and hate from the heart is born out of subconscious equality, equality means that reconciliation is possible.

But if the truth is "don't care", if the relationship between the "Demon King" and the surface race really has nothing to do with love or hate, things may become... more desperate.

"What are you worried about?" Oliver picked up a decent-sized piece of chicken with a fork and held it to Nemo's mouth. "Nemo, you're horribly pale, do you want something to eat?"

Nemo subconsciously bites the chicken, and the reaction is still a little slow.

"I guess you're worried about something else." Oliver said softly, "Want to take a break? Even if there were a demon warlock, I'd be enough alone - just defensively, I can Control that power."

"No." Before the spirit reacted, Nemo's mouth gave the answer by itself. He grabbed Oliver's arm. "I'll go with you... Ann will forgive us later, I don't have to hide too much power this time. I'm more suitable for dealing with demon warlocks."

"Okay." Oliver kissed the tip of his lover's nose, "Whatever you're worried about, Nemo, but I'm sure this war won't be a problem."

The once young town youth is making promises in front of him that they once could not have imagined.

"To be honest, I'm still a little nervous...but I think we can beat them back and no one needs to die on the battlefield."

Nimo looked at the soothing smile of the other party and took a deep breath.

"Yes," he repeated in a low voice, "...at least this time, no one needs to die on the battlefield."

"Have you two finished eating?" A guard who was just chatting opened the tent curtain, "It's time for us to move forward."

Nemo patted the gray-black robe and picked up the lamp pole staff on one side.

"We're ready," he whispered, then paused for a moment, raising his voice slightly.

"Let's go."

At the same time, Marshal Gallagher was sitting in the room of the base camp, holding his forehead, and said nothing. He was exuding a faint aura of unrequited love, and the guards who came to deliver the refreshments did not dare to say a word.

After the battle with the princess, the marshal solemnly ordered all the guards to withdraw, and talked back and forth with the tumbleweed several times.

As the number of negotiations increased, the guard watched his boss's face gradually turn blue, and the "Wild Dog of the Wasteland", who had always been able to handle everything with ease, was now like a frosted eggplant.

And the culprit is in this room.

The female warrior was still wearing that leather armor, and was leaning halfway against the sofa in the room, eating grapes unhappily and feeding the parrot while eating. Frightened by Her Royal Highness's overly arrogant sitting posture, the guard did not dare to wait any longer, put down the refreshment and left the room quickly.

"Can you share with me? Seriously, Salter, the lunch you serve here is no different from the cat's. I'm a little hungry." Ann pointed hopefully at the plate of snacks .

"Your lunch is of the highest standard here."

"Such a big plate, a bite of meat, a few small pieces of broccoli, a little sauce... I haven't tasted it yet, it's gone! Your soldiers are eating meatloaf , I see." Ann pointed out solemnly, "If you didn't insist on some **** image, I'd grab a piece and eat it. Seriously, does the back kitchen still have it? I mean meatloaf?"

"It's not broken meat, but it's made of cheap scraps!" Marshal Gallagher murmured in dismay, "I can't feed the princess that kind of thing."

"Yeah, because when I was a black chapter, every day when I was hungry, a palace cook fell from the sky." An angrily spat the grape seeds into the plate, "You can't make a soldier hungry on."

After she finished speaking, she seemed to think of something, pulled out a confident smile at the corner of her mouth, and quickly rushed out of the room. Within minutes, the slightly greasy aroma of the meatloaf overwhelmed the elegant aroma of the marshal's room.

"It's so delicious, I'm going to cry."

Ann sighed vaguely while chewing the cold meat patty, her voice was really choked: "Not bad, Mr. Wild Dog, you are very kind to your soldiers—this is The food is delicious and filling, which is very touching.”

"That's what the chef gave you?!"

"I said I would use it to feed my pet Warcraft, I couldn't live without it, and it would go mad when it was hungry."

"...Where did you get your pet monster?" Gallagher subconsciously looked at the gray parrot that was frantically eating grapes.

"My stomach," Ann said flatly, "they really eat it."

Marshal Gallagher was silent for a moment with a sullen face, and let out a groan of collapse. And Ann happily nibbled the meatloaf and hummed contentedly.

"Forgive me, Your Highness." The marshal returned to his position. "At least don't make such a joke, if the identity of the mage is also..."

"That's not a joke, you heard him say it himself." Ann shrugged, "You have to thank Nemo, Mr. Dingo. He told you to make your arrangements better. troops."

Gallagher would rather have amnesia—

Time back for a formal meeting with Tumbleweed.

"Two people? Army? There's likely to be a demon warlock on the battlefield to the east! This is no time for jokes, Your Highness. I know you want to bring your companions, but it's not a good meeting, I Soldiers of the army are ready to sacrifice. Your men..."

"Oh, Demon Warlock." Ann repeated calmly, "What a nostalgic word."

"I don't agree." Marshal Gallagher said coldly, "It's nothing to talk about."

"What if we can minimize casualties?" The black-haired mage of Tumbleweed suddenly said, "Ann, Mr. Salter should be a trustworthy person. Since he is an ally, I think he needs to know something."

"A trustworthy nuisance." Alban's princess shrugged, "It has nothing to do with loyalty, the Salt family has completely ripped apart the prince. As long as we help him, He wouldn't be stupid enough to turn to the prince at such a time."

"Mr. Salter, uh, your beliefs...?"

"Laddism." Marshal Gallagher snorted, "but not a fanatic, if you want to ask me that."

The black-haired mage and the head of the tumbleweed exchanged glances.

"I can deal with that demon warlock." He raised his beautiful silver-gray eyes.

"As far as I know, the Judge Knight on your team is Mr. Cross. If it is Mr. Cross in his prime, I can believe this - with all due respect, young man, I don't feel any strong aura in you..."

Gallagher suddenly felt something was wrong.

Not to mention the strong breath, this young man has no breath at all. He was like a phantom that didn't actually exist, and it was the first time he really noticed him.

"We have two superior demons," said the young man, "enough."

"Abyss Church?" Gallagher's expression darkened.

"No." Nemo shook his head.

"If not, where are you going to find the superior demon?"

"I am." The black-haired mage sighed, his pupils split into inhuman crosses.

…not a wonderful memory at all.

Gallagher stroked his long platinum blonde hair sadly, feeling like he was going to lose it in just one day.

"Yo, still thinking about Nemo?" An quickly finished the meatloaf and licked his fingers. "How high did you jump? You don't know how relieved I was when I saw you jump straight onto the table—someone else finally got the hang of those little bastards."

Gallagher hummed weakly.

"Neimo Wright really doesn't have much of a bad record. With Mr. Cross's assurances, I can put up with him for now. But your other demon, I'm a little worried to be honest."

He rubbed his temples hard: "Jesse Dillon...his character is closer to the description of the superior demon, if he suddenly goes back..."

An threw herself back on the sofa, laughing out of breath.

"Why didn't I put this sentence in the crystal! I really want to tell Dylan." She rubbed her stomach, "Wrong, he is not a superior demon. Although I I don't know what he is, but Cross has always taken him very seriously."

"Oliver Ramon is obviously not, and Clos can't be, you more..."

"This." Ann grabbed the gray parrot that was devouring the grapes, "Baggarmoru, say a word."

"My heart is hurt, don't talk to me." The grey parrot grunted, "Wait until my hair grows back! Nemo won't give me any treatment, he forgot, he I'm not in his eyes at all - let me go, Savage, I haven't had enough."

Gallagher stared at the parrot. Ann watched the excitement, his forehead began to seep sweat.

"You don't mean to say..."

"Yes, that's the thing."

"It's the great Lord Bagelmore." The gray parrot emphasized, "Are there any more grapes?"

“…”

"So even if an army falls from the sky now, don't worry too much."

"No, I'm starting to worry." Marshal Gallagher turned pale. "Did Mr. Dylan and Mr. Cross really stand it? It was my fault of judgment, and I had to—"

"Oh. Don't worry, although Dylan is unreliable, he hasn't had any problems in major events."

"Are you sure? This is what he asked me for. It's all written on it, and I keep a backup." Gallagher stood up angrily and handed out a parchment scroll. And try to avoid An oily claws.

An unconcernedly unfolded the scroll, and as her gaze moved, her brows became more and more frowning.

"...Well, I'm starting to worry too," she said dryly. "Let's pray together, Salter."