Winter goes to spring, and summer is an acute child, and he comes closely behind spring.

Seals or swords, it's hardly a problem.

Under the oil lamp, Rist and Orlando's eyes widened as they awaited Astan's choice as an older brother.

The older boy looked at his brother, who was far from mature, and he had little choice. If you let this little fat man like a soft egg become a knight, he will be hung up and hammered to death. The boy thought almost hopelessly in his mind.

I have no choice, but just give the land to this potato boy?

Astan looked at his grandfather and father, both of whom looked at him expectantly, while Langton looked at the stamped parchment and the damned sword.

Is that something you can touch? Idiot, you can't even pick it up!

Astan cursed again in his heart. In this manor, almost everyone is partial to this stupid boy, just because he is a little younger than himself, everyone thinks that he should be a little worse than themselves, and if he is not as good as his brother, then what awaits him will be those cynicism and white eyes.

He had heard that in other estates, seven or eight-year-olds were only learning from the back of their father's or brother's ass, and that in this manor he had to take on some of the day-to-day duties outside of his studies.

Just as Stan's mind was in turmoil, Langton staggered and lifted the knight's sword from the plank, his hand still quite unsteady, and the heavy sword almost smashed to his foot.

The remaining three people in the basement all changed their faces, as if they had something in mind.

Out of the corner of his eye, Astan quickly swept over his grandfather and father, who seemed to be still organizing the language, and preemptively opened his tone in front of them, something he had become accustomed to doing.

"Brother, what are you doing, put it down! Be careful not to hurt yourself. The words of the Astan organization were all about concern, but there was a slight frivolity in their tone. "It's not a toy you can get your hands on, so I'll do it. ”

Langton glanced at his brother angrily, then slammed his sword diagonally into the ground. "I've figured it out, I'm going to be a knight!"

Rist and Orlando exchanged glances, and Rist spoke first

"Langton, being a knight is going to battle, aren't you afraid of bloodshed?"

Langton shook his head, a little stubborn on his face.

"Being a knight requires allegiance to the Empire, you have to think about it. Seeing that his father's persuasion was fruitless, Orlando added bitterly. But his words still didn't get Langton to give up.

"I don't!" Langton said word by word, "Since I am a descendant of knights, then of course I want to be a knight." ”

Langton's two speechless words, yes, the offspring of the horse wants to continue to be knights, how can they refute this?

Astan Ling was overjoyed in his heart, no matter how much they favored their younger brother, there was no way to do it, after all, it was Langton himself who gave up the land to get a knight's sword. He looked at Langton's resolute expression and said as if he were relieved

"Brother, since you have made a decision, you can only be the knight, then let me inherit the rest. ”

With that, he stretched out his hand to the seal that symbolized land, wealth, and lordship, and wiped it with his hands and the clean clothes on his body, ignoring the dust on it, and his expression of joy was almost overflowing.

The knight earns some hard-earned money on horseback, but as a lord, he only needs to lie down in his own house to collect taxes, and Langton will not calculate this account, but he can calculate it clearly.

The two children were somewhat surprised by their performance, but they eventually chose to remain silent, which can be regarded as acquiescing to what happened. After all, these two children are still young, and their thinking has not yet been determined, and it is impossible to say what will change in the future, and Orlando is still in its prime, so it may not be possible to come back this time.

Thinking of this, the so-called "intergenerational succession" came to an end, and the four of them walked out of the cellar with their own thoughts, Rist looked a little older, Orlando looked a lot more relaxed, Astan Ling lowered his head to plan for the future, and Langton pestered his father to help him put his grandfather's knight's sword on his bedside.

"So that I can see the sword every day and see if I'm improving. Langton said.

The next morning, with the exception of Langton's mother, and Ms. Pablosa, who was still hiding from her room, the men and women of the manor gathered at the gate of the farm, and looked at a figure leading a horse from the stable to untie the reins, and a few servants who had served the manor for some years carried a few heavy bags in their hands, ready to be carried on horseback.

A man in his twenties mounted a horse, just like his father had done a dozen years earlier, clad in armor and carrying a sword and a pocket on the horse's back, which contained luggage for the road.

Rist and his two grandsons walked out of the estate and sent Orlando all the way to the edge of the fiefdom. Langton and Astan stood behind Orlando's horses, the old man leading the young man, and he walked in front without saying a word, and the few men did not speak much along the way, except for the gurgling of the stream, which made a few moving noises, and it was irrigating the land with its own strength, and the land that had been moistened by the stream would grow good crops.

Orlando looked into the distance, a blanket-like meadow, the center of which was lined with a shoulder-width path by passers-by, like a stick figure on a carpet.

He rode a pack horse under his crotch, and he didn't sprint fast, but he was strong and strong, and he was the type that was good at carrying heavy loads.

The man of "Astan Town, Langton ......" took one last look back at his hometown, where the wheat had grown to knee-high height, and if nothing else, in a few months, it would be harvest season.

"Remember to listen to your grandfather, don't cause trouble, and then there is...... Respect your mother, do you understand?"

Astan nodded, Langton still looking innocent.

"Dad, when will you come back, will you still bring wine back at this year's harvest festival?"

Orlando took a deep breath and tugged the reins on his hand.

"Langton, if you have the opportunity to go outside more in the future, this world may be more exciting than living in only one manor. Maybe somewhere, we'll meet again. ”

Stant had stepped aside at the right time, flashing a distance for him, and when Orlando gently released the reins from his hand, the three of them watched him fly out of the field in the distance like an arrow.

"Daddy, won't he come back?" asked Astan.

"I used to think that calling him a father would make him more mature. But maybe I'm wrong again. Rist sighed, and even his hair seemed to be a little whiter.

Some beings are born with a yearning for freedom, which is their nature, and it is their destiny. Ten years ago, a son ran past his father, and from that day on, the son was determined to measure every inch of the world with his own feet. In eight years, the father tied up his son to marry a girl he had never met, and in seven years, the son became a father again, but he did not yearn for a day when he did not yearn for the world he had never been to. Six years. The son became a father again, but every time news came from outside, he would still look at the sun in the sky, which he had never been to before.

Now, the ten-year-long tug-of-war between father and son has finally come to an end, and the sun is shining into this person's life again. The uneasiness of leaving home was soon overshadowed by the excitement of the open scene. Orlando had a long, long plan, and he had this trip in mind ten years ago.

The peasants looked up from the fields on either side of the road and looked at the knight who was speeding along the road.

"He's not that young anymore, but he's still running out of here. ”

"Why didn't he take two squires with him?"

"It's said to be because he likes to be alone. ”

"What a quirk. ”

"Whatever. ”

"Whatever. ”

The sound of the wind blows across the plain, the voices of the past are mixed with the sound of loose grass and trees cracking, whistling on horseback, those scattered words gather some inaudible sentences in the ears, so that people have no way to delve into it, and the familiar words seem very unfamiliar, only the sound of horses' hooves, the breath of the grass breeze, real and eternal.

Orlando was prostrate on horseback, and he galloped all the way, not even planning to say hello to his friends he had made before. According to his previous itinerary, he was supposed to go to the small town of Mogia for lunch, then spend the afternoon in the town gathering some information about the gold mines of the South, and then recruit a few explorers to set off on the four-day journey from the estate to Abbasquia.

But he changed his mind for a while, there would definitely be more adventurers on the docks of Abbasquia than in a small town, so why go to the town if he could go there to recruit assistants.

The pack horse walked evenly through a field and a small town between the fields, and he saw the town change from a point to a large field in front of him, and then from a large field back to a small point in his vision, and some wonderful feeling arose in his heart.

"This is the near big and the far small. Orlando concluded, and just as he was about to extend the concept further, a sudden sound of a soo sounded in a bush in front of him, interrupting his thoughts and turning his gaze to the jungle.

A few men in shabby clothes were carefully hiding in the shadows of the bushes, and looking at their clothes, Orlando couldn't make out who they were, with hoes and pitchforks in their hands, but there were some blood stains on them.

He frowned and climbed off the back of his pack horse, which was okay, but it would be a bit whimsical to use it for war.

"Who are you, and why are you hiding here?" Orlando snapped. He tied his horse to a tree as he drew a sword from his waist. Although his swordsmanship is not as good as his father's, it is still more than enough to pack a few ordinary people who don't even have leather armor.

Seeing that Orlando had spotted them and made a fighting gesture, they no longer hid themselves and walked out of the shadows of the trees generously.

"Hmph, you're also a mercenary in the town, if you're going to get our heads for a bounty, hurry up, and where are you standing and grinding?" The leader was a sturdy farmer no more than thirty years old, holding a pitchfork, and the rest of the men cowered behind him.

Orlando clenched the knight's sword in his hand, and recalled in his mind Rist's teaching: to deal with this kind of rabble ordinary enemy, if you really want to make a move later, you only need to kill this man neatly first, and then the rest of the people will immediately disperse.

"I'm not a mercenary for Mogia. Orlando raised the knight's sword in his hand and continued, "I am a knight from Rist Manor. ”

"A knight from the manor?" After Orlando revealed his identity, the farmer was slightly relieved, as long as it wasn't for the mercenaries in the town waiting to trade their heads for drink, then they weren't some mortal enemies. But Orlando's approach with his sword pressing forward made him feel pressured.

"I don't want to be your enemy, so why don't we go our separate ways?" said the farmer, raising the pitchfork in his hand.

Orlando was a little surprised in his heart, since there were mercenaries in the town chasing them, then they would definitely be a group of outlaws, but as outlaws, how could they surrender to themselves so simply?

Thinking of this, Orlando tentatively said, "I am willing to spare your life, but only if you tell me what you have done to cause the mercenaries in the town to hunt you down." ”

As a gesture of sincerity, Orlando also lowered his raised sword to his waist and kept a considerable distance from the farmers. At the edge of the shadows, the two men faced each other, and the Orlando Knights' side looked a little weak, but they had the absolute upper hand.

Hearing Orlando's question, the farmer looked a little surprised, he blinked his eyes, and asked in disbelief, "Why? The noble lord is still interested in the affairs of untouchables like us, aren't you afraid that our affairs will dirty your ears?"