The child turned around suddenly, rushed to the pile of rags and old cotton wool in the corner, and pushed the figure wrapped in it with all his strength.
"Uncle! Don't sleep!" The child's voice was sharp, with a high-pitched voice that is unique to children and only bursts out in emergencies. "Get up! Over there - the storm is coming!"
The person wrapped in rags and old cotton wool moved. It was not the kind of sudden sitting up motion caused by being pushed awake by a child, but the kind of slow squirming motion after being woken up, with the eyelids still open and consciousness still in a dream...
A rough, calloused hand stretched out from the rag and waved randomly in the air, as if chasing away an annoying fly.
"Why are you making such a noise..." The man's voice was hoarse and low, like sandpaper being rubbed on a wooden board.
He poked his head out of the rag, revealing a disheveled head that had not been washed for at least several days. His hair was in a mess, like a bird's nest blown by the wind.
There is a faint layer of blue and black under the eye sockets, and there is a messy stubble on the chin. There are still some leftover crumbs in the corner of the mouth.
There was a faint smell of alcohol on his body - not the strong smell of alcohol that had just been drunk, but the slightly sour smell that was emitted when the last bit of alcohol left in the body slowly evaporated after not drinking for several days.
The man sat up with his hands on the floor and shook his head, as if he was shaking his unconscious consciousness back from some distant place.
He yawned, rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, and then followed the direction of the child's finger and looked out the window at the rapidly expanding black shadow.
The moment his eyes saw the storm clearly, his swollen, bloodshot eyelids opened suddenly. The eyes were not big, and the eyeballs were very dark brown, almost black. At this moment, the dark brown eyes reflected the golden lightning in the distance, and the pupils shrank, as if an invisible hand was tightening them from the inside.
"Tsk." The man smacked his lips, not out of fear, but out of impatience. The kind of impatience that said, "Why are you here again?"
I haven't had a drink for several days. Since the storm flooded the city, the tavern has sunk to the bottom of the water, and the wine barrels in the warehouse have either been washed away or soaked in water.
He hasn't had a drop of alcohol for several days, and every cell in his body is clamoring for alcohol. His temper was already bad when he didn't drink, and now his temper is even worse.
If there was another storm, he would have no choice but to take the boy away and not drown here.
"Uncle, what should I do?" The child raised his head and looked at him with a sad face. He was also thinking about this problem. What should he do? The road was flooded, the water did not recede, there were no boats, and there was not much food. Those who could run had already run away, but before they could run away, the storm was coming again.
He was a child and couldn't think of any solution. The child looked back at the door on the inside of the room. There was an old couple living next door. The grandfather had bad legs and the old woman had bad eyesight.
They didn't run either. It wasn't that they didn't want to run, but that they couldn't run. The child turned back, looked at the man, and moved his lips.
"If we run away... what will happen to the grandparents next door?"
The man's brows furrowed, not the kind of tight, hard frown, but the kind of "this problem is really annoying" kind of frown. He was silent for a few seconds, and then clicked his tongue.
"Stop talking." The man stood up from the ground. He was very tall and had broad shoulders. Even though he was wearing a wrinkled and dusty old coat, you could see how strong his frame was.
He walked to the window, pushed the child away from the window, and went to the gap to take a look. In the distance, the black storm was still there, neither spreading nor leaving.
The man's brows furrowed even more tightly. "In the worst case, I'll take you and fly away."
"Uncle, it's time now, can you stop bragging..." The child's voice had a kind of "You say this kind of thing every time."
He had the helplessness of "Which time has it been counted?", and there was also a trace of habitual tolerance for adults' bragging that he was not even aware of.
"Haha. Are you bragging..." The corner of the man's mouth twitched. He couldn't tell whether he was laughing or laughing at himself. He lowered his head and looked at his rough, calloused hands.
These hands have held weapons, shovels, wine glasses, and many things that should not be held. He murmured his name--Chaluoke.
The name is very light, as if it is spoken to oneself, but also to this city that has been flooded and is about to be forgotten by everyone.
He raised his head and looked out the window. His eyes moved away from the storm and glanced closer - in the direction of the ruins of the mine. His brows did not frown, but his eyes narrowed slightly, and a cold light flashed in his pupils.
Someone is coming.
The members of Silence Society ran to a building that was half submerged in water on the edge of Weierna city. Their pace slowed down, not because they were tired, but because the captain raised his fist in front of them - a signal to stop.
Everyone stopped at the same time, no one took an extra step, and no one made any unnecessary noise. They quickly dispersed, using the remains of the building as cover. Some squatted behind the broken wall, some leaned against the stone pillars, and some hid behind a pile of collapsed timber.
Their breathing has not completely calmed down after the rapid running, but no one is gasping for air. In Silence Society, controlling breathing is the same basic skill as controlling heartbeat.
"What is that?" A young voice came from the left side of Kaidezi, the voice was very low, with a hint of breath.
"Is this the awakened god here?" Another voice came from her right, a little calmer than the first one, but speaking obviously faster than usual.
"There is no similar record." Kaidezi answered the question, her voice low, but very sure. Her mind was rapidly searching through all the ancient books she had read, the murals she had seen, and the inscriptions she had interpreted - none.
There was no known ancient being that matched the shape of the thing she had just seen. Emerging from the storm - not a dragon, not a god, not any being she had seen in the literature.
"That's possible... but what did he throw?"
"Stone?"
"Why did you throw that away?"
"Don't talk." The captain's voice came from the front. It was not high-pitched, but the sense of urgency squeezed out from between the teeth and being pressed to the extreme made everyone's voices disappear instantly.
Everyone quieted down.
The wind blows from the water, carrying the smell of water plants and rotting wood.
There was a dead leaf spinning on the water. It spun twice and was blown away by the wind. A bird was chirping in the distance. It chirped twice and stopped.
The captain's eyes moved away from the storm and glanced towards the shadow of the building that was half submerged in the water. There was a narrow strip of dry ground that was not flooded from the water to the second floor window.
The ground is paved with slates, and there is moss on the slates. There is a series of footprints on the moss - old ones, not just stepped on. But next to the series of old footprints, there is a deeper mark, as if someone has stepped on it for a long time.
"There is a guy who is not weak." The captain's voice was very soft, as if he was talking to himself.
Everyone followed his gaze. There was something moving in the shadow of the building - not rushing out of the shadow, but walking out of the shadow, as if the darkness itself was his coat. He just shook his shoulders slightly and peeled himself out of the darkness.
A tall figure stood at the door of the building that was half submerged in the water, with one hand in his trouser pocket and the other holding on to the door frame.
Chaluoke looked at the men in white robes in front of them.
His eyes swept from the first one to the last one, and then from the last one back to the first one.
Those who were swept by those dark brown, almost black eyes unconsciously tensed up their bodies - not fear, but a more primitive and instinctive physical reaction when being targeted by a predator.
They had seen that look many times, in the eyes of veterans who came back alive from the battlefield, in the eyes of those who had struggled on the edge of life and death too many times, in the eyes of those who had killed many people, were almost killed by many, and were still alive in the end.
"I seem... to have seen you." Chaluoke spoke. His voice was not high, but the hoarseness squeezed out from the depths of his throat and tempered by alcohol and time made every word like sandpaper rubbing on a stone slab.
He scratched his messy hair and scraped his scalp twice with his fingers, making a rustling sound. He didn't look at anyone, but glanced at it casually and casually.
But it was that glance that made several people present feel it - it was like saying "I have seen your details, but I haven't remembered where I saw it yet."
Silence Society members' bodies tensed up at the same time at that moment. It wasn't intentional - someone turned slightly behind the wall and changed the center of gravity of his body from his left foot to his right foot.
Someone slightly raised his right hand that was originally hanging by his side. The amplitude was so small that if you didn't look at it specifically, you wouldn't notice it at all. These were all actions completed in an instant, so fast that they seemed like instinctive reactions.
In their perception, the man's body exudes very strong magic fluctuations, not the kind of pressure that is deliberately released and burning like a torch, but the kind that is compressed to the extreme and usually only leaks a trace, but that trace is enough to let people know that this person should not be provoked.
What's going on? Could it be that the news has spread, and which force sent someone? Why so fast?
Several people at Silence Society exchanged glances quickly. The captain stood there, the veins on his forehead twitching slightly - not fear, but the uneasiness that comes when something goes beyond expectations.
The captain's eyes paused on the man for a moment, then looked away. Then he went through all the possibilities in his mind and found no answer that could perfectly explain the current situation.
So he made a decision - to stabilize the opponent first.
The captain took a deep breath and walked out from behind the wall. He didn't walk fast, but every step was steady. His boots made a slight, rhythmic sound when they stepped on the wet stone floor.
He stopped about five or six steps away from the man and bowed slightly. His movements were not big, but very appropriate, expressing politeness without appearing humble.
"Sir," the captain's voice was steady and at a moderate speed, and every word was filtered. "We are just passers-by collecting information. Everything else has nothing to do with us."
Chaluoke looked at him and was silent for several seconds. The dark brown, almost black eyes stopped on the captain's face for a while, then moved away and glanced at the people behind him. Then he spoke.
"I didn't ask you that."
Chaluoke's voice was impatient with "Why are you talking to me that nonsense?" His eyes moved away from the captain's face and fell on his waist - there was a bulging money bag.
"I mean." Chaluoke pointed at the money bag and then at the water, "Do you have any money? Or, can you call a boat over? It's best to get some more bread and wine."
There was silence on the other side for a long time. It was not the kind of silence that "needs time to think", but the kind of silence that said "did we hear wrongly?"
Several people looked at each other, their lips moving, but no sound came out.
They made eye contact - what does that guy want? One member raised his eyebrow slightly.
I don't know, what's the code word?
Another member's eye twitched. Is there such a code word?
The captain's face was expressionless, but his fingers stopped on the outside of his thigh and did not strike.