Salaman heard clearly——

"Hell", the word was deliberately emphasized by the man in front of him.

"Indeed, too many people died... If I remember correctly, France lost 54 soldiers, and Nazi Germany lost 43. It's terrible."

"It's really terrible, so many people have been sacrificed." Salaman imagined that he was patrolling the territory gracefully on horseback, but the next day he was thrown a bunch of immature cold weapons and was thrown on the dusty battlefield. The sound of gunfire and bullets mixed with the horns of the elegant national charge hit the eardrums, as if they were about to burst.

Every step he took, he felt that the creaking corpse under his military boots seemed to stand up in the next moment and turn into a ghost to pounce on the enemy's throat. At the same time, the stones and blood mixed into a slurry, and he felt that every step weighed a thousand catties, and then he He has no strength to walk, and is regarded as an enemy, bitten, trampled, swallowed... There are no bones left.

Ah, that sucks.

"These words are not fresh at all," Shelan Udos interrupted Salaman's association, "only the word 'hell' can satisfy me a little bit."

As he said that, he frowned, and the skin on the bridge of his nose frowned slightly, and then he calmed down as if nothing had happened.

"Then how do you think it should be described? Killing? A guillotine for thousands of people? Or a farce?"

Salaman quickly picked up the pen on the table with his right hand, and sat upright, as if he was listening to some important meeting and was about to take notes—in fact, he really wanted to write down Sandraar’s words, which seemed more attractive than what the teacher said Thousands of times.

Shelan Udos didn't want to say it so quickly, and tapped lightly on the marble window sill. The sound of da da came from the slight resonance between the dexterous fingertips and the cold marble slab. The strong vision can To see a German musician in a tuxedo with tousled hair like a deaf but smelly beast—

——"Ode to Joy", Shelan Udos is singing the melody of Ode to Joy.

"concert."

The softly pronounced word spit out from his mouth.

"Boring, lousy concert."

As he spoke, he turned his head and looked out of the window dissatisfied, and saw the scarred peach tree.

"I don't understand you."

"There is nothing incomprehensible, just the literal meaning."

Shelan Udos changed his posture, the Chibi soldiers fought fiercely, and few people died intact on the battlefield. Those tragic victories or defeats all came out of his mouth and grew into a tree with black roots. , the black trunk, the black branches, the black buds are pulled out, the black flowers grow, the blood pours down, the whole tree turns red, backs up, the red slowly infects from the top, first the flowers, then the The branches are the roots in the end, together with the speaker in front of him.

"And that Xiafei, do you know who he is?"

"The heroic French commander-in-chief?"

"Hero? Fuck, how did history distort him? He once bought a Russian dress for his subordinate's daughter, but in fact it was to pick up the subordinate of this single family, but it failed because of the war the next day. At that time, that subordinate was blown up to the point where there was not even a scum left."

He clicked his tongue as he spoke, as if expressing contempt.

"And the German crown prince named Wilhelm is also a fool. He rushes when he is ordered. The preparations are always incomplete, so it seems difficult to beat them, but it is actually very simple."

"The only conductor I admire is one."

He suddenly lost the contempt and ridicule just now.

Salaman couldn't understand everything about him.

"That person kicked his subordinate before the final battle. The kick was not too hard, and it was very precise between the ribs. Otherwise, three or two ribs would be broken."

As he spoke, he covered the left side of his body, as if he was the one who was kicked.

Salaman felt that Sandraar's expression was very painful now, as if he was really kicked. He really wanted to boast about this kind of acting, so he thought about it or forgot it.

"He kicked it right, because the kicked deserved it, and he couldn't make up his mind to make a decision at a critical moment, and he was like a waste." He straightened up and clenched his fists.

"His kick solved all the problems, the battle was very successful, and their theater casualties were few."

"Sounds like he's a perfect conductor, do you know his name?"

Sandral,

Who is he?

He is Sandral.

"I remember."

Shelan Udos saw gold and ice blue in front of his eyes.

"So, can you tell me? His name." Salaman held the pen, ready to record the mysterious general.

"No, I don't remember."

"what?"

"I said I forgot his name."

He forgot, Sandral.

Liar, it was Lysandraar.

------------TBC------------

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