The grand bonfire burned, and the bell tower in the distance rang a melodious bell. In the scent of the dead flowers in the city, St. Sunil began to be covered with a layer of smoky smog. The fire everywhere seemed to be like a city. Against the gradual deep night, under the stars, the glory of a city is created.

This reminds me of the dark age that has become a legend. I remember the second development that determined the destiny of mankind. In the magical tide of dark chaos, did the ancestors ignite a huge bonfire like today, as if it were in the dark? From the lighthouse, guide the compatriots who are lost in the depths of the magic tide to move closer to themselves?

This may also be another hidden meaning of the bonfire that must be ignited at night.

Looking at the swaying fire in front of him, listening to the ceremonial officer reading the long prayers of the soul, Welsh Moen silently silently, the nominal ruler of Ansu stood like an outsider in this memory of Moen In the courtyard of the ancestors, the ignition star rising from the campfire undulating and jumping in front of him, flying on the sizzling hot wind to the dark night, gradually blending with the starry sky in the late autumn, in which he could not see Charlie. Moen's face of a distant and unfamiliar blood ancestor.

A gentle footstep came from behind, and the man who went to the middle ages suddenly felt that a sense of peace and tranquility that had no reason shrouded his body and mind. He licked a glimmer of light shining in the air and turned his head. Go, so I saw Veronica Moen, who was wearing a white dress, standing beside him.

On the chest of the saint princess, a small white flower is blooming under the nourishment of the Holy Light, holy and beautiful.

"Brother, good evening." Veronica said with a faint smile that seemed to never change, and said slightly.

"Veronica..." Welsh Moore looked at his genius sister with some surprise. "Are you supposed to pray in the cathedral?"

"Today is the first Ann's Day after the Father's death," Veronica said faintly. "The Lord will be tolerant."

This is not like a "female princess" who is as devout as a textbook in the eyes of outsiders, but Welsh Moen knows that this younger sister has been an ordinary person since she was a child. She always has her own ideas and always There are countless clever reasons to make your actions seem logical, so he just nodded slightly and didn't ask one more.

After an embarrassing moment of silence, Wales took the initiative to say: "The Victorian Duke has been there, she told me something."

"You are going to be a king."

Wales is a little surprised: "How do you know?"

“It’s not hard to guess, the situation is so, there are not many choices that the Regent’s Duke can make, but today it’s just the Anse Festival. In front of the ancestors, she told you that these are just right,” Veronica said quietly, then slightly Bent over, "Brother, congratulations."

Welsh frowned at the incomprehensible, he didn't want to hear this. He looked at Veronica's eyes. The eyes were as gentle and trustworthy as ever, but in his eyes, the eyes were It seems that the jewels carved with gems are magnificent, beautiful, but lifeless. It is a kind of eye that is neither malicious nor kind, which makes him can't help but turn his head awkwardly.

It seems that no one has ever felt the temperament of this saint princess is the same. Everyone regards her as a god-given treasure as a symbol of all the good spirits of Ansu, but Wales always has a small time when Veronica is still very young. I will feel a strange thing when I am with this sister. Under such strange pressure, he will try to avoid taking the initiative and Veronica alone. Today is the Anse Festival. He has no reason to leave the courtyard in advance.

So he can only stay here and try to shift the topic away: "I heard that after the battlefield of the Holy Father, the situation of Wang Guojun is getting better..."

"It’s just a good turn to the extent that it can be deadlocked with the East Rebels," Veronica replied. "And a large part of the stalemate is that the weather is getting colder. Winter combat is not good for both sides."

"...Yes, I didn't think of this," Wales laughed and laughed. "You see, I am not suitable to be a king. I can't even think of it."

"It’s too good to be a king without life. You just left Silver Fort for too long," Veronica said as she looked at the bonfire in the courtyard. After a few seconds of pause, she suddenly appeared to have no words. If you don’t have a brain, "...the bonfire that was ignited this year on the Anse Festival is twice as big as in previous years."

Wales stunned and reacted: "It’s because of the war."

"Dead believers will return to the kingdom of the gods, and those who do not believe will fall into the house of death. The souls have their own places, but people are willing to believe that the lost souls will go home and live on the petals of the dead. One gathers... Brother, do you believe that those souls will come back and look at us in the fire?"

Wales couldn't help but look at the fire in the courtyard. The bright flames leaped in the night sky. There was nothing in the curtain formed by the flames and smoke, but he couldn't help but associate, and those who swayed in the curtain had a moment. The face of Francis II emerged. The old king took his scepter and looked at himself indifferently. There was no expectation in sight.

"I hope they can rest in the kingdom of God," said Wales, and looked at Veronica next to him. "What about you? As the living saint of the Holy Light, you can see us in the fire. Father and ancestors?"

Veronica was silent for a moment, then turned and left: "I can't see anything."

I am also the Welsh Moen in my heart.

Then he looked up and watched the rising smoke in the bonfire flutter straight into the night sky, blending with more smoke in a very far and far place, and countless bonfires became a huge cloud of smoke. Gradually blurred.

Under the night, on the Pioneer Square, the largest square in Cecil, a huge bonfire is burning.

The mechanical clock in the center of the city was played eight times. A huge plastic hand floated over the bonfire, and the powder mixed with black stone and pyrophosphorus was sprinkled into the fire. With a slight burst of fire, the flame of the bonfire suddenly The room became extremely bright and grand.

The crowd gathered around the fire made a loud cheer, and with the cheering of the shaking city, the large magic net terminal set in the square was launched, and a huge holographic projection appeared over the square.

Launched together, there are several other squares in the city, several cities in the surrounding area, and the magic network terminal on each town square along the cross axis of the Principality of Cecil.

On this night, almost everyone gathered near the campfire, and almost all the large bonfires were located in the squares of the towns.

The Cecils were no longer strangers to this "magic miracle". They didn't make a fuss or panic, and people just looked up curiously and looked at the figure that gradually appeared on the projection.

The figure of Govin Cecil appeared on it.

"Citizens, good evening, I am your lord."

The crowd was a little surprised. Some people responded and immediately sang a holographic image on the square, while some naive children shouted happily, and the daring children pointed at the holographic image: "Look! Lord!!"

The child who was lost was immediately taken over by the grown-up, and the voice of the lord continued to come from the holographic projection:

"Today is the Anse Festival, we commemorate the days of those who have passed away. The origin of this festival is to commemorate an aristocrat, and today, we use it to commemorate our parents and brothers, to commemorate our deceased relatives and friends...

In the Pioneer Square, Betty looked at the big bonfire in front of her eyes. She heard the voice of the lord coming from the holographic image behind her and quietly staying.

"In the early spring of 375, a disaster came to the old Cecil, and countless people left the world on that day..."

With the night wind blowing in the smoke, Betty wakes up from the daze. She looks at the people around and starts to put the wood branches into the fire. She also picks up the already prepared twigs, a few steps forward, slightly Awkwardly throwing the branches into the fire.

The little branches were quickly swallowed up by the flames, and the little maid looked at the bright fires with some sorrow. In her not so bright mind, every flame of the flames seemed to be turned into a face.

"Mrs. Hansen... Mrs. Morris... Uncle Taylor..."

Betty whispered softly, chanting the names she had used a lot of strength to finally remember, and then suddenly bent down and slammed hard to use the kind of signboard, as if to throw himself out of the general momentum 鞠A trip.

"I have survived!"

A figure crossed Betty, the same hand holding the branch of Rebecca, the successor of the Cecil family also throws the branches into the fire, flashing fire reflected on her face, this is always a loss The girl was quietly quiet at the moment. She stood quietly for a while before she whispered: "We have survived 880 people... Father, I tried my best."

Hetty didn't know when he came to Rebecca: "Now everything is going well, and Rebecca has grown a lot..."

Behind them, Gao Wen’s holographic projection still floats above the square, his voice vibrating the air, and it is far and far away: “...to all the unfortunate civilians, let your soul rest in peace, to all the soldiers who died. I salute you... I hope that the deceased will rest in peace, please rest assured that Cecil will continue to move forward, and I assure you all...

"To all the living and the dead, good night."

The holographic projection on the square gradually disappeared, and people were quiet in the silence. In the "playroom" of the Magic Net Control Center, Gao Wen stepped down the platform for collecting holographic images.

Amber came over from the side. This half-elves had a smirk on his face. "You are a deviant one. You have always been a civilian to commemorate the nobility. For the first time here, you have a nobleman to commemorate the civilians, and also." pay tribute'……"

Gao Wen sighed slightly: "From now on, at least in the land of Cecil, the Anse Festival is a thorough, ordinary anniversary... even scholars who specialize in history will not Re-attach the original origin and meaning of the Anse Festival."

"So your purpose is really hope that in the future, don't continue to celebrate your jealousy with singing and dancing."

Gao Wen quietly looked at the amber that looked like he was beating, but he saw that the depth of the half-elf eyes was unnatural.

He asked: "Do you have no relatives to commemorate?"

Amber didn't look away: "I don't even know what my parents call, or even if they are really dead, to commemorate who to go."

"What about your adoptive father?"

Amber didn't say anything, until after a few seconds, he whispered: "...he was a thief wanted by the nobility. When he died, he was also purified by the priest of the Holy Light... In the bonfire of the Anse Festival...what is his position."

Gao Wen looked at the side of Amber, and he finally knew why this half-elf was so obsessively hostile to all the Holy Light pastors.

"What is your sin in your adoptive father?"

"But I just wanted to find a book from the church, but I missed the candle that the local lord dedicated to the church. I have said that he is a lame thief..."

After a moment of silence, Gao Wen broke the silence: "I can't reverse the purification, but as the ruler of the South, I can amtraive your adoptive father. What is his name?"

Amber looked at Gao Wen with amazement, and then reacted: "Sari...he is Sari Randolph..."

Gao Wen was a little surprised: "Does he have a last name?"

"Well, he has a surname, I asked him, but he didn't say anything... After I also investigated many family pedigrees in the South, I didn't find the surname."

"This is the case..." Gao Wen breathed a sigh of relief. "Perhaps it is a fallen aristocratic vassal. In short, Surry Randolph is not guilty."

A forgiveness does not allow the dead to survive, nor can it recall the souls that have been indulged from the bottom of the country of the dead. But in many cases, what people want is not practical, but just a kind of heart.

Gao Wen patted the shoulder of Amber gently: "Look at the bonfire and burn, go."

In the next second, the figure of this half-elf has disappeared into the air.