In the middle of the river of blood, they sat down and searched for the definition of love.
Denmark is a prison. Denmark is hell. The soldiers escaped hand in hand, only to realize that the other party was the enemy, and then they fought each other. They were both shot to death by a rain of arrows, and an owl pecked out their ears. Even with half Danish blood in your veins, you can't escape their fate. Cut the chains of hatred with the chains of hatred; the Anglo-Saxons cut down the Romans, and the Danes cut down the Anglo-Saxons. What about revenge? Can the king you choose really take you out of hell? What rose in front of him was nothing but the dawn of doom.
Overnight, the boy grew up. Gentle, he never imagined that he would become like this, a Macbeth of the North Sea. The empty crown hangs over his head, like a bloody head hanging over his ear, the father who doesn't love him. Father, where is your love? The girl looks at the aurora, the wicked are left in the world, and the good have gone to heaven where there is no pain. The warrior yearned for Valhalla, but it was not the Valkyrie who waited, but the cold void. Father, your love is only in death. Therefore, the prince would rather use his blood to open up a land, to make the death of the victim more meaningful, and to make the lingering life more meaningful. The prince's embrace is open to all, it is the love of love before Paradise comes, not love.
Another boy is slowly transforming. Everything he saw questioned the world. Is revenge love? Is escaping good? Does the end of the sea really have an answer? The father dropped the sword, the boy dropped the dagger, his hands still shaking slightly. No one can guarantee that he is right, but at least he is not wrong. And at the end of the sea, on an island full of sound and music, he will create something new.
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