Chapter 108 I am not a good pope
In front of the messy footprints, Bo Aoluo stood up.

He looked at the rivers, puddles and streams crisscrossing before him and fell into deep thought.

"Run away?" Biolo looked at Cléante.

Cléante was covered in mud and looked miserable, as if he had just been pulled out of a puddle or mud pit.

"They were smart. They threw away those sick old guys and the speed is much faster than before." Cleonte complained.

"You haven't answered my question yet." Bo Aoluo still looked indifferent.

"They probably ran away by wading. They didn't take the main road. They probably went into the swamp." Shivering, Cleonte immediately answered honestly, "If they go any further, they will be in the monster-infested area. They are dead."

Bo Aoluo shook his head: "Not necessarily. They have witches, two at that. Monsters should not be a problem for them."

"Shall we continue chasing?"

"No." Bo Aoluo rubbed his temple, "We have to hire some demon hunters to clear the way for us, otherwise it will be difficult for us to catch up."

"They are all going to enter the Wild Spider Forest anyway, so we just guard here. They can't get through the Wild Spider Forest, so they will come back sooner or later." Cleonte suggested.

"We can't keep wasting time here with him." Bo Aoluo waved his hand impatiently, "These peasants are too good at running. I should have left you behind and traveled light."

Bo Aoluo was still thinking about returning to Xiaochi City to join in the celebration.

Unlike inland areas like Qianhe Valley, his family is on the coast. The public land and farmland on his fiefdom are almost wiped out, and grain prices have been driven down by the smuggled grain from the Flesh and Blood Royal Court.

Otherwise, why would you go through all the hard training to join the Imperial Order Company?

Like the other knights, he practiced cavalry combat and then climbed up the ladder through fame and social connections in the arena.

"We are just mortals after all. How can we compare to the knight?" Cléante did not dare to be presumptuous in front of Booro.

It was completely different from the rebellious look he showed in front of Bellard.

"Sir, look at this." A squire knight suddenly came over and handed a ruler to Booru.

After getting the ruler, Bo Ao looked it up and down in confusion.

"what happened?"

"Sir, this ruler is made of cork, which is unique to Kasha County, and its decoration looks very much like the products of Shelley City. Please look at the French words on it."

In the light of the sky, Bogliu read the words on it word by word: "To my student Madeleine."

“Sir, now this ruler is likely to have come from the Abbey of Blago in Shelley City, where it was searched from a shorthair.

If we can compare the handwriting, maybe we can determine which monk wrote it. You have to know that Abbot Juanno and Archbishop Constance are fighting fiercely right now. "

Bo'ao's eyes lit up instantly. He thought for a long time and shouted to Bellard: "Bellard!"

The distant voice seemed to come from the sky, but Bellard still stood there in a daze.

"Berrard, what are you doing?"

"No, nothing." Bellard threw the paper in his hand away in panic and ran towards Biolo.

The piece of paper fluttered in the evening breeze, carried forward by the wind and fell onto the water.

It stretched out on the water, revealing its original appearance.

There was a simple sketch on the yellowed paper, which showed two adults holding a child's hands.

The water slowly soaked the entire piece of paper, from the edge to the middle, gradually blurring the painting on it, until finally the shape could no longer be seen.

This simple piece of paper slowly moved forward with the water flow and continued to float in the water.

It drifted past the reeds and Metasequoia, past water snakes and water spiders, and finally hung, swaying, on a branch inserted into the water.

A muddy shovel extended from its side into the stream.

Horn shook the shovel handle to wash away the mud that was blocking the shovel.

Standing up, he picked up the shovel and walked towards the hill again.

The Yunzhongxue around his waist also swayed with his body.

Yun Zhongxue's sword handle has been replaced with the one given by Frick.

It was smaller than Horn's half-sword, and it looked awkward when mounted on it. It looked even more awkward when placed next to the blade that was partially exposed from the scabbard.

Coming to the top of the small mound, Horn picked up the wine bottle on the ground, took a sip, then stepped on the edge of the shovel and stepped deep into the soil.

Horn used both hands to shovel out the last shovel of soil.

He stuck the shovel into the ground and stared blankly at the pit in front of him, which was neither too big nor too small, just big enough for one person to lie down.

"I think I can find a job as a gravekeeper in the future. I just finished digging a grave for Danji, and now I have to dig another one for you."

Sitting in front of the grave, Horn thought he would be sad, or as angry as he had been when Danji died.

But when he was really here, he was full of confusion.

The night wind howled, swirling through the Metasequoia and pine trees, blowing up the hem of Horn's clothes.

All the words he wanted to say in front of their tombstones but couldn't say them to Frick were blown away by the wind.

Sadness, anger, it all seemed to be gone.

He stared at the shallow pit in front of him that was only big enough for one person to lie down. Suddenly he threw away the shovel in his hand, jumped into the pit, and lay down himself.

It’s so quiet, as if all sounds and worries have disappeared, it’s so peaceful.

With his ears touching the soil, surrounded by the tips of Metasequoia trees, his eyes were filled with stars.

"Tell me, you guys, who else could you look for?" Horn looked at the starry sky in front of him, "Why did you have to look for me? Who am I? Tell me, what am I?"

The night was as silent as fog, vaguely hiding all sounds behind it.

"Dangi, Frick, you see, I'm just an ordinary person, and I'm quite timid."

"I am neither holy nor have a system. I am just an ordinary person with a little extra knowledge in my head."

No one responded, and Horn wondered if the words had even been spoken or were just echoing in his mind.

"I just want to make up for what I lost. I'm afraid of getting hurt again."

"If I could live my life over again, I would just want to be a selfish person." "Dangi, Frick... I might... I..."

Lying in the grave, Horn couldn't utter a word.

Isn’t it just a “Sorry, I can’t do that”?

Say it, say it quickly.

The starry sky in front of him became a little blurry, and Horn's lips began to tremble as if something was stuck in his throat.

Come on, speak up, why can’t you say it for so long?

"Brother?" A delicate face poked out from the edge of the grave.

Horn immediately swallowed back all those unnecessary thoughts.

"What are you doing lying here?"

"I'm tired. Lie down and take a rest." Horn forced a smile.

After looking at Horn's face for a long time, Jeanne suddenly jumped into the grave.

"Give way."

Horn was pushed aside and Jeanna also lay down, filling up the small grave.

The two people pressed tightly together.

"Frick and the others are dead, right?" Jeanne asked after an unknown amount of time.

"Correct."

"We have been walking for so long and are almost at Chateau Jeanne d'Arc. What a shame."

Horn did not reply.

"Brother, you didn't let anyone die of starvation or disease."

Still no reply, he just continued to look at the sky. He really wanted to say to Jeanne:
This isn't something I should be doing!

He should be a cold-blooded and cruel time traveler. He should abandon all the sick and elderly people. He should stop loving anyone and live only for himself.

We should be like those predecessors who traveled through time and space and quickly abandon these burdens, find a base, farm, develop, wage war, form marriages, and make alliances, and finally become the overlord of the continent!

Then I will avenge them.

By then, I will marry a bunch of wives.

When the time comes, you will be a cold-blooded king, sitting in a magnificent palace, living a life of debauchery and sleeping with your loved ones - that's the right thing to do!
That's...right, isn't it?
Horn just felt like someone was using a high-powered putty mixer to stir his brain, turning it into a paste.

right?

Horn closed his eyes and frowned, as if he was having a nightmare.

Strong white arms wrapped around Horn's neck, and Jeanna's moist breath passed over Horn's ears.

"Brother, I think Master Frick must have left with a smile on his face."

"We, the people of Qianhe Valley, have lost everything. We have lost our dignity, fairness, and freedom. The only things left are our lives and our families."

"Grandpa Frick couldn't bear to lose his children for a third time."

After about half a minute, Horn slowly turned sideways and said, "Jeanna, let me hold you for a while."

Jeanne opened her arms.

Like a baby, he curled up and buried his head in Jeanne's strong and reliable chest.

"I will stay here with you as long as you want." Changing into a comfortable position, Jeanna put her mouth on top of Horn's head and hugged Horn's head.

The grave was filled with starlight, and Jeanne and Horn lay motionless, as if they were asleep.

"Jeanne."

"Ok?"

"You have grown up during this time."

"Well, we've been through so much." With a faint smile on her face, Jeanna gently stroked the ends of Horn's hair, "If you don't grow up, it won't make sense."

“…That’s not what I’m talking about.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Horn knew something was wrong.

He felt the soft arms wrapped around his neck, instantly becoming harder and hotter than red-hot steel.

"Alright! I'm rested!"

Without hesitation, Horn tore his head from his arms, crawled out of Jeanne's embrace, and climbed out of the grave before she turned red.

Turning around, Horn reached out to pull Jeanne out of the grave, brushed the dirt off his body, and stood in front of the tombstone again.

He stood there for a long time before he reached out and gently stroked the tombstone:

"Don't worry, I will do my best to send your children to Jeanne d'Arc safely and will not let them die on the road you have paved."

"As for the rest, I dare not promise."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not a very good pope."

Throwing their old sword handles into the shallow pit, Horn and Jeanne each used a shovel to bury the soil, forming a small mound.

Firm the grave mound and insert the wooden tombstone in front of it.

Horn took two steps back to make sure that he had not inserted it crookedly, then he followed Jeanne with his numb legs, staggering away with the shovel in his hand.

In the starlight, the words on the tombstone seemed to be glowing.

"All the ancestors of the Thousand River Valley people are buried here."

　p.s. I got off work a little late today, so I'm going to have dinner first. There will be two more chapters later.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)