The Amnesiac Commander

He should have died in that snow. Of the forty-seven members of the mercenary group, the Iron Champion slaughtered him, leaving him lying in a pool of blood waiting for a last strike. Then the voice rang against his skull - the seal of the commander, recognizing the Lord. The dead companion rose from the snow. Old John's chest was hollow, and the broken flag swept across, slashing away the centurion. The entire Gray Gorge mouth was turned over. The price fell immediately: for every time he awakened a body, he lost a memory. He led this team of dead men, threw away the pursuers, and got into the abandoned mine tunnel of Gray Ridge. Burned half to death, unable to remember his name. He began to carve the things he still remembered on the cave wall, on the wooden board, and on the cloth strips. He remembered for his dead brothers how they had lived, fearing that he would not be able to keep even this. He wanted to remember what old John said during his lifetime. I want to remember where my mother's grave is. I want to remember that my name is Viren. But he wants to live. To survive, more undead souls must be awakened. To awaken more, we must throw away more. Every dead person who stands up is a knife, cutting off a piece of his humanity. When he stands at the highest point, will he still recognize himself - or has he already become one of those bones? Mercenary Velen｜Seal of the Commander｜Price: Each time he wakes up, he swallows a piece of memory Over-the-top fantasy·Undead Western fantasy·Cold war