Chapter 596

The blade feast lasted until late at night. The decisive battle was between the black temple and the crimson fist.

After 20 minutes of fierce fighting, Lafayette Bravo, the champion swordsman of the black holy church, defeated art Richter, the champion of the crimson fist, and won the championship of the feast with better endurance and toughness.

For Ustad, losing to the other side seems to be less painful.

Under the witness of everyone, lafaele Bravo, on behalf of the black temple, took the sword of sebatus and announced the end of the blade feast.

And all the champions who participated in the competition received a medal to keep as a souvenir.

The next time we get together, it will be a hundred years later, but I don't know how many people can reappear in this place.

For astat, life and death are the norm. Maybe the people we meet today are separated by Yin and Yang in an instant.

Perhaps it was also because of this that there was a faint sadness at the celebration party.

At the lively banquet, soshyan met many meritorious and famous Imperial heroes, and they all had a strong interest in soshyan who had made many achievements at a young age - of course, some people asked about Ustad's swordsmanship, which were fooled by soshyan's wit.

To his surprise, the Tiens battle group vaguely showed its intention to join the suffering alliance.

However, their internal opinions have not been unified. Soshyan can only say that they are welcome to the mark of victory at any time.

In the meantime, there is another very strange thing.

It was the people of the white temple who suddenly found soshyan and very mysteriously invited him to meet with their war leader.

Although he didn't know what the other party wanted to do, he didn't refuse.

At this time, it was the midnight of ivett. In addition to the twinkling stars, there were large areas of Aurora in the sky——

Suddenly, a figure in a cloak walked through a plain that was once a mountain. The light emitted by a monastery with a scale comparable to the city colored the night sky. The tail flame of the warship engine was brighter than the stars in the night sky. A large number of transport planes and large shuttles crossed the edge of the horizon, leaving an orange track.

On the catwalk, there were no living creatures except the flames on the columns on both sides swaying with the wind.

The figure stopped, turned and looked back.

He could see far away, the darkness was nowhere to hide under his eyes, gunboats and airborne boats were busy, carrying away the personnel and equipment, and the lights moved between the parking aprons.

A burst of laughter in the distance came with the change of wind direction. For a moment, he thought he could hear the boring jokes that caused laughter.

In his mind, a soldier patted another soldier on the back.

In the huge banquet hall, soldiers from the same blood are sharing brotherhood.

He listened for a while.

The wind blew again, blurred the subtle laughter, and sparks jumped out of the burning grease.

The excitement is theirs, but he can't feel it.

Thinking of this, the man turned and continued along the empty Avenue.

As soon as the sun rises, the soldiers gathered here will go their own way. Inverth, the former parent star of the fist of the Empire, will continue to be silent as in the past.

But now, he's the only one walking alone.

In the far past, countless craftsmen worked tirelessly to decorate it with a symbol of victory and power: on the statue of Donne holding a sharp sword.

But now it is empty and speechless, and the majesty of Dalishi mountain temporarily converges at night.

The man stared at the outline of the statue and continued walking.

No one can be seen here, and there is no mark of the glory of the past. The fist of the Empire has given up their home star, only the glimmer in the dark and the dust rolled by the breeze.

Walking into the shadow cast by the statue, he heard the familiar hum and the light sound of carefully made armor shaking in his ears.

He stopped and turned his eyes to the deeper darkness in the middle of the statue.

Five terminators stood in the dark, invisible to ordinary people.

He declared his identity in one phrase. The terminators hesitated and lifted their alert posture.

"Hello, Randall Blanchard's war chief."

A voice came from the dark.

The man in the cloak turned and the fire lit up his figure.

This is an astat, a gorgeous milky white armor, but the breastplate and shoulder armor are black, with a white arrow tail cross branded on it.

He didn't wear a helmet. He had a gloomy face, a deep scar on his chin, black inch hair on his head, which was somewhat similar to soshyang, and even his appearance was three or four times similar to soshyang, but his eyes were red in the fire.

The man looked directly at the man hidden in the dark and raised his eyebrows.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, head of soshyan Alexei war."

Then, soshyan stepped out of the darkness, waved his hand and asked the five bodyguards to retreat 100 meters away.

"We met for the first time."

Soshyan smiled.

"But there is a very familiar feeling."

"So do I."

Randall's smile looked dry.

"Can we talk?"

Soshyan nodded.

They stepped on an open ladder and extended upward. They walked side by side and began to climb.

"MUTARI felt a force in the duel."

After a while, Randall suddenly said:

"I was surprised at first."

Although soshyan was calm on the surface, he was a little nervous in his heart.

"Our strength comes from the emperor, nothing special."

"You have a feeling of uneasiness, I'm sure."

Randall suddenly laughed, and soshyang glanced at the people walking beside him.

"I don't quite understand what you mean?"

The war leader of the white temple smiled.

"In fact, I don't quite understand myself."

They calmed down again and continued to climb up.

At last, the stairs merged into a wide open-air corridor, ending in the distant night sky.

Flags were hung on the huge stone pillars, and each flag was woven with a symbol: black iron fist.

Randall stopped for a moment, looked at the flag, and then they came to a terrace.

In the night sky, the plain extends far away, and the lights from the buildings appear in front of them, scattered by the power armour on their bodies.

It was windy and Randall leaned against the railing, his cloak hunting.

"Brother."

Finally, he spoke.

"When you use this word to call them, do you feel a little uncomfortable because you know you're lying."

Sosh looked down at Dorn square, which was very far from them.

"What do you want to say?"

"I'm not their brother."

"You..."

Randall looked up and smiled,

"Just like you."

Soshyan's eyes immediately became sharp, but Randall didn't avoid his eyes.

After a while, soshyan turned to the beginning.

"Maybe."

Randall raised his eyebrows, but remained silent.

"What do you... Know?"

Randall's face under the shadow flashed a smile and soon disappeared. He didn't answer.

Suddenly, a strong wind crunched the flags.

"Actually, I don't know anything."

It's sosh's turn to raise his eyebrows.

"Such a riddle is boring."

"That's right."

Randall nodded, his face unchanged, then straightened up and turned away from the fence.

"You know what I want to say is true, but I still want to say... We all shoulder a huge secret. This secret makes you and I unable to speak. I just hope we can have a good heart. After all... Maybe we are real brothers."

"Randall, you --"

"I think we've said enough."

Randall began to walk away, and armor made a slight sound.

"Good night, commander soshyan Alexei. I hope you can go to the sanctuary star if you have time in the future. At that time... Maybe you and I will have an answer to our doubts."

Soshyan did not move. He still looked at each other's disappeared back, and the starlight and fire were reflected in his eyes.

After a long silence, he straightened up and turned back to leave.

At night, the statue of madon still stands quietly