Chapter 299: My hometown is where my heart is at ease
Both the demon race and the human race were looking at the neatly arranged corpses on the wasteland, as well as the crazy young man.
No one knew how long the boy would stay in the wilderness, but from that day on, he never left there.
It was as if the wilderness had become his home.
The fight between the two clans stopped because of this young man. Within a few days or more, the tense atmosphere gradually faded away.
There were far fewer people standing on the tower. Most of them were unfamiliar faces, and they seemed to be very curious about the scene outside.
Most of them are people from all walks of life.
Chen Zhenghai stood on the tower and after seeing this so-called fairyland, he couldn't help but sigh.
"It really is a tomb..."
He sighed, thinking that he had finally seen it.
In the past few days, it has often rained heavily in the wasteland, and the initial smell of blood and putrefaction has slowly been blown away.
The demon tribe was stationed more than ten miles outside the wasteland and never left.
Both parties were looking at each other, seemingly calm, but actually very nervous.
…
No matter the wind blows or rains, there will always be a figure standing on top of the tower.
Once Mucang had some free time, he would often stand on the tower and look at the crazy young man in the wasteland.
He thought about getting him back all the time.
At first, people were afraid of the young man, but later they became accustomed to it and often called him a madman.
"The madman is talking to the corpse again."
"Every day, that miserable smile keeps me awake and gives me a severe headache..."
"I don't know how long he will stay here."
"It's been a month, right?"
"It should be there."
After entering Huaixu, it became hotter and hotter, with several light rains falling one after another, making it extremely dull.
Looking up again, some exposed white bones could be vaguely seen on the wasteland.
The crazy boy seemed a little panicked.
It seemed that he suddenly realized that they were all dead.
"What should I do if you are all gone?"
The young man murmured in his mouth and said to the corpse with white bones exposed: "That way no one will talk to me."
He was extremely upset, so he sat quietly on the wasteland for several hours, rarely making any noise.
Until the bright moon rose, he could not suppress the annoyance in his heart, found a relatively complete corpse again, and started talking.
"I'm so scared and cold."
He folded his hands, but for some reason they started to tremble under the cold wind that night.
Facing the moonlight, his face became paler.
There is not much time left.
Mucang looked at the trembling young man in the wilderness. At this moment, he could no longer bear the guilt in his heart.
He returned to the city and took a cloak.
Then he was about to walk out of the city gate.
Lao Scar put out his hand to stop him.
Mucang gave him a cold look and said, "I'm going out today! No one is allowed to stop me!"
"Why are you so angry?"
Old Scar looked at him calmly and said: "Be careful."
Mucang's eyes stayed on him for a moment. Without saying anything, he took the cloak and walked out of the city.
For him, the road ahead is so long.
Mucang slowly approached the boy who was squatting and shivering on the wasteland.
Until he stood in front of the young man.
The young man raised his head. His face was now withered, and he had long lost his appearance.
The fists under Mucang's sleeves were clenched, and all kinds of guilt appeared in his heart.
He put the cloak on the young man's body.
A little warmth came over me.
The young man was stunned for a moment and turned to look at the cloak on his body.
Mucang's lips trembled and he said, "This is the only thing I can do for you."
The young man looked at him and suddenly shouted: "You are not from us! I don't allow you to come in here!!"
"Go away!"
"roll!"
The young man seemed a little excited, and there was a little blood red in his eyes.
Mucang was startled when he saw this scene. He lowered his head and said, "...I'll leave right now."
He turned his head and walked back along the way he came.
The young man's eyes were fixed on him, as if he was going to pounce on him the next moment.
Mucang looked back at him.
"Let me tell you on behalf of everyone."
"I'm sorry."
After saying this, he never looked back and left here.
The redness in the skinny boy's eyes slowly faded away after he saw the man walking away.
His mood seemed much better.
He didn't seem to care about the cloak he was wearing, and continued to squat down in a daze just like before.
"No one can break in, no one can..."
It was a bit warmer this night.
But for the young man, it didn't seem to have the slightest effect.
He buried his head, curled up into a ball, and just enjoyed the peace quietly.
For him, this is ‘peace’.
…
In the blink of an eye, Sophora japonica disappeared quietly, and the autumn wind blew into the wilderness.
Until now, the wasteland is covered with bones.
The divine realm became lively.
Many people came to the rivers and lakes. In the blink of an eye, in half a year, there were nearly ten thousand martial arts warriors in this tiny divine realm.
Chen Zhenghai opened a blacksmith shop in the city and often made weapons for people, mostly swords. He has never left since he came here.
The sea of people rises and falls, and the sun and moon change in the city.
It's lively now, but the excitement at the beginning is no longer there.
The door of the wine shop was closed and never opened again, and the shopkeeper's curses were no longer heard.
But there is an extra woman in the city who loves to drink.
The warriors who came to the God's Domain heard that she was a dead man, so most people called her Widow. Few people knew her surname or name, but every time they saw her, she was drunk.
A swordsman was sitting around chatting and making fun of a passing widow.
"Widow, how do I do with my sword?"
Du Aniang, who had a reddish face and was holding a wine jar, had blurred eyes. She turned her head and glanced, and said: "My man is not as good at playing."
"You always say that your man is good at acting. Who is your man?"
Du Aniang seemed unwilling to answer this question. She was not even interested in arguing with them. She just shook her head and left with a drink.
Since that time, she has never argued with anyone again.
…
And in that bone-capped wasteland, the young man had no one to talk to.
He seemed to have become much quieter and no longer smiled miserably.
One day, he piled up all the bones and sat in the middle, as if remembering his former 'friends', or in other words, it made him look less lonely.
It is worth mentioning that during this period of time, he never fell into the bloodlust.
He sat among the bones like a stone, never moving.