The wind blew across the field, and he stood up gently. The dew dropped and splashed the petals soaked in mud. He raised his head and held the cold sword in his hand. Now that he had taken the first step, he was no longer afraid of the second step.
Night comes quietly, and the candlelight gradually dims. The shadows reflected on the wall were dancing, and the body was torn apart by the candlelight and torn apart by the roaring night. Fireflies burst out of the grass, upward, upward... They gathered into bright spots in the distance, and slowly ran away...