Chapter 1067: Chapter 141 Mortals and Sage (12k-word Chapter, Xiawei Territory storyline concludes, thanks to the leader Fei Xin Si Jian!)_3
But compared to the Natives of that time who could command several armies of Magical Beasts, the current Natives can only dispatch a part of their Elite Hunters and Berserkers to break through.
Yet this poses a greater threat to the cityâs garrison.
The Native Elite Hunters launched their attack, systematically killing the soldiers in the turrets. Scott and his teammates fought desperately, killing the invading Hunters... but the cost was that only he survived.
"Those bastard Natives are coming for us, damn it."
"Fuck, we canât just let this kid go to his death, right?"
"Scott, guard the flank, protect the Alchemical Cannon... what are you wasting time for, this is your task!"
"Kill! Fight these bastard Natives!"
"Why are you crying? Kid, you have to live..."
"..."
Scott still couldnât do anything.
But this time, he became the âdoableâ for others. His life was the result of othersâ help.
ââI must do something...
ââEveryone in the city is in trouble, I must fire the cannon to stop the enemy...
ââYes! This is what I can do! My mission, where I can help others!
Standing in a pool of blood, gazing around at the bodies of comrades and Natives, the young city guard had no time for grief, no time for confusion.
He repeatedly tried to repair that Alchemical Cannon... but he never learned.
He didnât know how.
This was beyond Scottâs capability, even though he had the opportunity to help others, to change their tragic fate, his abilities and experience made it impossible for him to grasp itâhis feeling of unwillingness and emotion reached a peak at this moment, but he still couldnât seize it.
Why exactly is this?
Perhaps... simply because.
He is an ordinary person.
A mortal.
The mortal trembled as he stared at the cannon in front of him, unable to fire no matter how it was manipulated. He knelt in front of the cannonball in near despair, pure emptiness and meaningless dejection rendered Scott silent.
And such silence lasted until someone opened the door.
This was Scottâs first encounter with Ian.
It was a white-haired child, and beyond his cute face, the first thing Scott noticed was his eyesâthose eyes were unlike anyone he had seen before, shimmering with a watery glow, bright and dazzling, yet filled with unwavering determination.
Just by appearing, Scott felt an intense sensation... one that made him shudder all over.
ââIan is extraordinaryââ
His instincts told him so, and so did reality.
After Ianâs arrival, he quickly repaired the Alchemical Cannon and promptly fired it with his help, hitting the vital point of the Swamp Crocodile Dragon.
Just by arriving, he solved all of Scottâs troubles... whether it was the Natives, the Alchemical Cannon, or the Crocodragon... Ian easily helped everyone inside Nauman City, preventing numerous tragedies from occurring.
His very presence was constantly altering the destinies of others.
Constantly changing the feeling of âsomething is wrongâ in Scott.
Though he personally had no such thoughts, Ian himself had his goals, but the facts wouldnât allow personal will to deviate.
"Thank you, you were a big help."
In the end, the white-haired child smiled, politely thanking Scott.
To Ian, it was stating a fact, just a casual remarkâeven if Scott hadnât helped him adjust the cannonâs aim, hadnât helped carry the cannonballs or shielded from debris, Ian would still have achieved his goal.
It was only the icing on the cake.
But for Scott, it was redemption.
That night, as Scott, who was rewarded by the Lordâs Mansion, returned home, his mother cried and embraced him, while his father patted his shoulder heavily, praising his actions, worried about the dangers he had faced, and proud of his son.
Even his bedridden grandfather struggled to lift himself up, loudly boasting of his grandsonâs braveryâScott was now the hero of Harrison Port, he finally became someone who could help others.
But just like in the past, in Scottâs heart, there was no sadness.
At this moment, there was no joy in his heart either.
In the deep night, Scott couldnât sleep, the young man curled up in his bed, hugging his knees, gazing out at the rain through the window.
The rain kept pouring.
He bit his hand, applying near flesh-tearing force, giving himself pain, punishing his lies, punishing his incompetenceâif not for the physique of the Iron Folk, he would have bitten off a piece of flesh.
Perhaps it was more a sense of self-blame.
ââI actually canât do anything!
Faced with the invading enemies, I canât kill them... faced with the damaged cannon, I canât fix it... faced with so many people dead for no reason, I actually canât extend a single helping hand!
Those teammates who died protecting me, I couldnât save even one, those wounds needed only a little healing potion to cover, yet I had none because of poverty!
I canât change anything, neither this world nor myself...
"I am actually just a mortal!"
In this extreme pain, in the raining night sweeping over the Southern Sea, Scott wept bitterly.
The echoes that resounded in his heart since childhood, the vague sense of something wrong felt since he was young, the cruel, icy, nausea-inducing truth finally revealed itself to him at that moment.
ââHe was actually just a mortal!