Everyone saw Felix fall off a cliff with several stabs in his body, his proud head not hanging down, and several mercenaries being dragged down by him for burial - a term that was used because everyone knew that the faithful guard was going to die. Pen? Interesting? Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 ｉｎfo

Mirosławku fired his gun into the air, seemingly as a final tribute to the man who had been with him since childhood, but it also seemed to attract the attention of the mercenary on the other side.

Serfenaar brutally shot out the eyes of a mercenary looking at them: "Alright, let's get out of the way!" ”

Everyone tightened their reins and headed down the mountain. Lobita also secretly compared the situation of the personnel before leaving the cave and the current situation, and found that the dwarf was indeed as Serfenal said, leaving only him and another dwarf named Mad. On the human side, he, Jamila, Mirosławku, his personal attendant Katzper, and three other guards remained. In this way, there are only 4 of the dozen or so guards who escaped before, and even if the rest dodge the raging fire, they still become the ghosts of the mercenaries. In this way, Mirosławku, the biggest financier of Dumar, is now alone.

Lobita suddenly shuddered, and he realized that a word that had flashed out of his previous series of thoughts seemed to bring them a very important message—something that might be implied. But he suddenly couldn't remember it again. The sound of birdsong was like the melodious music of life after the catastrophe, mixed with the cold and cold sound of the wind blowing leaves, flowing into his heart, making him gain an inexplicable pleasure and tranquility, as if hypnotizing, hypnotizing him not to think of this important information.

The pony galloped, kicking up clouds of dust. The wind blew on his cheeks, and there was still residual sweat on his face, as if he was ****, Lobita squinted his eyes slightly, enjoying the happiness of the rest of his life after the catastrophe.

Some of the survivors around him are still reeling from the loss of their companions, with the exception of Mirosławku. He had endured a terrible battle, but he was still tirelessly discussing his plans with Serfenal and Jamila. In his opinion, this rash action was really unwise, because their previous assumption that even if the Bloodblade Clan fell into war, it could only be a conflict with other dwarven clans, but they didn't expect that it was actually a venture capital organization, a human organization, that actually tried to slaughter the Bloodblade. And they were forced to be involved in the massacre.

"Rich man, don't talk so badly about this operation, if you don't come, we will definitely die in the cave. When you find my brother again, he won't necessarily agree to an alliance with you. Of course, your guards did die...... Well, that's it, that's it. "As a member of the Bloodblade Clan, Serfenal is not sensitive to death, so he can't think of any suitable words to describe this tragic reality.

Jamila also took over the conversation: "Yes, although we have suffered heavy losses, it is not worth it. I'm worried about that wizard right now - who it is and where it is. Does it still follow us. As soon as it appears, I will not hesitate to defeat it with all my strength. But this invisible pressure it now gives is more terrible than a tangible sword. ”

Lobita was originally in a state of absent-mindedness, but after listening to Jamila's last sentence, his head was like a berry pecked open by a peregrine falcon, and a strange and clear feeling swept through his mind, he gently pulled the placket of Yamila in front of him, and whispered to Jamila: "Lord Jamila, none of the mercenaries I met in the back are equipped with muskets. They carried only bows and arrows, but bows and arrows did not work well in such narrow and curved mountain roads. ”

"Maybe there are two possibilities." Jamila also seemed to be aware of this, so she immediately responded, "One is that as the spears they climb the mountains, they must abandon the cumbersome weapon of muskets. But they can also carry small and convenient handcuffs - so this assumption is difficult to confirm. There is hardly a case in which they would be justified not carrying handcuffs, except that they simply do not have enough firearms to arm themselves. ”

It's a strange thing that the venture capital organization, the leading military-commercial complex in the South, doesn't have enough power to buy firearms for its own mercenaries, and if there is any idle and boring person in Dumar who is in a tavern to stir up such a paragraph, it is guaranteed to be laughed at by the diners around him.

But now, such an almost impossible speculation seems to have penetrated into it. Lobita thought about it carefully, and also laughed dumbly. He had been exposed to Dumar for more than ten years, and he was deeply convinced that if a single gold Pistol coin fell into the piggy box, one foot had already stepped out of the swamp of misery - of course, it was a bit of a mistake to say that he was a money junkie, but living in such a place made him know the magic of money. But the magic of money seems to be diminished in Jamila's analysis, which the girl says unconcernedly, in which venture capital organizations use gold sand as brick-filled sand and silver ore as grains of silver ore in nursery rhymes, but they can't hold a few muskets in their hands.

There was nothing to do all the way, and they soon came to the bottom of the mountain, and the atmosphere suddenly changed, compared to the solemn atmosphere on the mountain before, it may be really relaxed now. Not far from the foot of the mountain is a bazaar where dwarves from many tribes can be seen flocking to trade.

"My brother, they should be doing business with the dwarves who are stationed nearby and from other tribes. Maybe the dwarves who had escaped had already informed him of the information - but maybe not, after all, according to his violent temper, he must have rushed directly with his people. When we got to the bazaar, we bandaged the wounded first,"

So they ran along the gravel road all the way to the bazaar, and the sound of horses' hooves clattering was very different from the sound of the soft and muddy earth on the mountain road before, which made Lobita listen to it quite interestingly, but soon the sound also stopped abruptly - the guards at the entrance to the bazaar stopped them, for they were all in tatters, especially the wounded were covered with blood, and the red clothes could not stop dripping blood, if Dumar's high-class wine banquet would not let the ragged people enter, Then such a low-grade village assembly-like trading scene would not allow such a person to enter, no matter how poor and humble the people, there will be more humble things that they hate and hate.

"You are not allowed to enter! The only things that can enter here are bloodied animals, such as pigs, cows, and sheep. The dwarven guards looked at the ragged men with disdain, especially when they saw the two dwarves with the unique facial lines of the Bloodblade Clan, and this expression of disdain and hatred became even more hideous.

Serfenaar did not show weakness at all, he took a sudden mouthful of bloody phlegm, held his double-sided axe high, and shouted: "Get out of the way for me, or I'll rip your belly open!" ”

"Even in such a bazaar, there are his most basic rules and the decency that must be maintained." A dry and pretentious voice like the choir singing hymns in the church came, and Lobita couldn't help but think of the thin and shriveled little old man in the little church of the city of Urn, whose purpose was to study the holy books, to sing the praises of the sanctity of Malawi, and to chew on the dull and disgusting scholasticism that made people dizzy at the first glance, which was out of step with the whole atmosphere of Dumar, and even the nuns in it laughed at him as an anachronistic pedantic—oh, He could still remember the old man's strange wrinkled face and shriveled voice: "Hey, Lobita! Did you celebrate Mass today? Don't touch the bread until you wash your hands - he's the flesh of Malawi! ”

And the man in front of him was neither old nor shriveled, just an ordinary dwarf with a little rich clothes. He also seemed to know Serfenaar well, so he quickly let them in, and the wounded were properly treated. And they met Séfenal's brother in a corner of the market, where there were many tent camps.

"Hey dude. You can see, that kid hasn't seen him for a few years, and he actually mixes up with the presentable, I heard that he was very arrogant when he was spending money and playing with women in the city center. This was the first thing they said when they met Selfenal's brother, Soli.

"Maybe you can tell me a little bit about that bastard's fortune when you're free, but now, I have to tell you something terrible, our village has been attacked, and only Mead and I have escaped." Serfenaar told them all that had happened to them, and Lobita watched with interest as he watched with interest—his expression changed dramatically like a four-season apple, first blue, then red, and finally gray, and silent, so that everyone around him held his breath for fear of irritating him again.

"Damn! Damn it! These bastards, these brutes! Suoli's lips trembled, the roots of the mountain between his eyes crumpled, and his teeth chattered. The younger brother's performance was in line with what Lobita thought they should have reacted to such a catastrophe - but it was a difficult emotion to deal with.

"Brother... Patriarch, we should kill them now, capture those brutes, cut out their hearts, drain their blood, and give an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth! With that, he went into the tent and prepared to pull out his horn and call the people together.

"Patriarch, I am also angry at the despicable actions of the venture capital organization, but if I don't know the situation, I may lose more if I rush to counterattack like this." Seeing that Soli was completely absorbed in the hatred of his people, Mirosławku had no choice but to persuade his brother Séphannal to think twice.

Séphannel glanced at Mirosławku and said word by word; "Do you think I really don't care about my people and my homeland along the way? It's just that there is no point in grieving for nothing, all I have to do is gather the strength of my people and take home the garden, just as you want to take back Dumar. I hope you understand. ”

In this way, more than a thousand men and women of the Bloodblade clan gathered together, and after hearing that their compatriots had been slaughtered and their homes destroyed, they were all haunted by such an atmosphere, and the grief and sadness were self-evident, but a primitive throbbing as intelligent beings fermented like a hormone, and constantly evaporated, and that was revenge - blood for blood, eyes for eyes, teeth for teeth, and nothing else.

"That's what happens when you stab a hornet's nest. Thousands of hornets will aim their tail spikes at their attackers, and even if they want to pull out their intestines and drown in the mire, they will stick their vengeful tail needles into their enemies. Jamila looked at the phalanx of the Bloodblade clan, turned around, and said to Lobita in a serious manner.

"Warriors of the Bloody Blade! It is with great sadness that I tell you today the tragic reality that our wives and children, our parents and elders, the people we were supposed to protect - they are all dead. Their blood was splashed on the land of their homeland, on the blooming hyacinths, and their souls had returned to the majestic mountains. Now, the only obligation we have to bear as a living person is to avenge our loved ones! We of the Bloodblade Clan are never afraid of battle, and we will fight in the hills, in the jungle, in the narrow passes, in the land where our ancestors shined, and we will chop the bones of our enemies with axes, and then the axes will bend, and we will also shoot the last bullet with our muskets, and then spit on the enemy! ”

"My thousand warriors, you are strong, you are brave, so you fight—fight for the Bloodblade Clan! Sharpen your weapons, cut off their heads, and ask for credit! ”

Looking at such a magnificent pre-war mobilization, Lobita couldn't help but think of the mobilization outside Dumar five years ago, and the commander also made such a grand speech, and he still remembered a few words: We love beauty, but we have not become extravagant because of it; We love wisdom, but we don't let it make us weak. We treat wealth as something that can be put to good use, not as a capital to boast about...... We have never lost the favor of Orlando, as our enemies claim—in fact, the gods are always watching us, and they are eagerly waiting for us to get out of the cage of falsehood, but they will not interfere with me, for the apparition of God will only bring more church, clergy parasites and red tape to the world, and they look forward to us saving ourselves in our own strength, just as a father encourages him to get up on his own even when he sees his child fall, so, generals, soldiers, remember this sayingThis is the creed of our Dumar people - salvation by faith, salvation by man.

But then, the Dumar were defeated, the boss was killed, the gates were opened by the moles, and most importantly, the elves, who usually had a lot of bad relations with the Kaiser court, chose neutrality. In this way, until the Grand Duke of Dumar hanged himself in his palace, Dumar was also isolated, allowed to be burned and looted by the bloodthirsty knights of Kaiser, and the corpses of Dumar's soldiers were strewn all over the road, and the officers of Dumar's army either committed suicide, were beheaded, or were hanged.

"It's their own business, and we shouldn't force them." Mirosławcu turned his back and no longer faced the dwarves, he knew that what the Bloodblade Clan suffered today was inexplicably similar to Dumar, which reminded him of the time when he had a conflict with his wife, when the family of three went to the theater to watch a stage play of "A Doll's Family", which was not contrary to today's reality, and the irony was quite obvious.

Lobita was a little unable to open his eyes by the bright sharp axe in the sunlight, and he had to admit that he was a little infected by the atmosphere of the scene, and he even imagined that he was also a member of the Bloodblade Clan, and then lined up with his relatives, friends and compatriots, and set foot on the road up the mountain with great pride. They have a heart to mind, their goal is the same, even if the person in front of him dies, he will step over the corpse and continue to rush forward until he recovers his homeland.

The dwarves were ready to march, dressed in heavy iron armor, and shouted the name of Tier with a voice that shook the earth, as if one could see the unstoppable march of the Dwarven Emperor's Iron Staff Army across the vast plains of Lawsen, sweeping across the continent - and only the still warlike and unyielding Bloodblade tribe could inherit this savage and great spirit, and the dwarves were both saddened by the loss of their relatives and friends, and rejoiced in the vengeance and killing at their fingertips, both of which pointed them to the mountains, Go to your own homeland.

"Then let them go!" Mirosławku waved his hand and motioned for the group to get ready to leave, "We don't need to waste any more time fighting a beast of fervent snakes. ”

"Sir Mirosławku, it is true that a beast stung by a poisonous snake may be on the verge of death, but if a hunter saves it at this time, it will not be the same thing." Jamila said, "Allow me and Lobita to help them reclaim their homeland, so that the beast will be ours." ”

Mirosławku whispered to Jamila in a very persuasive tone: "You are far more useful than these brutes - both morally and as a merchant in terms of gain and loss, please do not wade into this troubled water." We've lost enough. ”

"You can't just see what you're looking at - Lobita and I will come back safe and sound, and when the time comes, we will bring in another strong army for your rebels. Now that you've helped them reclaim their homeland, what reason are they, as Bloodbladed Dwarves, to refuse your need to take home to their homeland? ”

"Ahem, Lord Amelia Candace, this is not my opinion, but I hope you will consider it carefully. If you insist on going ......"

"Uh, sorry. I don't want to disturb the conversation, but it seems that the dwarves have encountered a little bit of a situation. Lobita abruptly interjected into the conversation.

In fact, if the two of them hadn't been racking their brains to think about their own arguments, but had been paying more attention to their surroundings, they would suddenly find that the dwarves had changed from neat queues to reunions, arguing loudly and loudly.

It's a strange thing to say - when Lobita squeezed into the crowd and saw something, she suddenly became crying and laughing.

The little champagne dog, Pochi, was sitting upright, his tongue sticking out and panting, and beside him was a wounded mercenary, and if the two were combined in the most bizarre and uncanny thinking, it might have been Pochi who had carried the wounded soldier all the way down the mountain road. But how is this possible?

"Oh roar, Pochi, it seems that I am right to feed you so many fleshy bones every day, I bet you can bite off and crush his bones with one mouth closed!" Serfenal, though he said something that seemed funny, did not smile at all, and his griffin-sharp eyes stared fiercely at the wounded soldier, as if he were about to eat his flesh raw, just like the looks of passers-by on both sides of the street when the violet cavalry entered the city.

Soli put the axe on the wounded soldier's neck, and the fat on his cheeks kept shaking, which made it impossible to tell whether it was joy or anger: "You tell me why the venture capital organization is here to slaughter my people, maybe I can make you die a happy death." You and your master are only in a business relationship, there is no need to help him hide secrets. ”

The wounded soldier lost his mind a little when he saw that the dwarf had sealed the possibility of his survival with a word, but he also knew what would await him if he didn't confess. As a mercenary, the moment he signed the mercenary papers, he had already sold his life to money, watching his companions die one after another, and the only inheritance after death was a little pension issued by the organization to his family, maybe today, it was also his turn. So after hesitating for a while, he also said happily: "The organization lacks firearms. A few months ago, war broke out in the countries of the South, and there was a severe shortage of firearms. And the shareholders of the organization made a lot of money by selling all the muskets, muskets, and heavy artillery that were supposed to be equipped with us, for the sake of money. But then, the Republic of Gris, which had always regarded us as a thorn in the side, learned of this and directly sent troops to attack the city where our headquarters was located, and we were forced to abandon it because of our lack of firearms. In order to retake the city, the shareholders pondered the idea of buying back a batch of firearms, but the whole war was still in the south, and they could no longer buy goods at the right price. So the shareholders turned their minds to the steel capital of Kukunnad, especially after knowing that the Bloodblade clan held the best Bloodrock iron ore. They have sent men to you, hoping to buy these iron mines and hire workers to make the best firearms. But...... When you refused, you gouged out the eyes of the messenger, saying that he did not deserve to see these sacred iron ores. So the shareholders sent us to kill all the people of the Bloodblade Clan and take all the iron ore. ”

After listening to this, Soli put his other hand on the handle of the long axe with a blank face: "Oh, very good, very good. Thank you for the information, I keep my oath and will make your death more painful, please avoid that little girl. ”

The moment he swung his axe, Lobita seemed to be able to see the reluctance and pain in the expressions of the wounded soldiers, just like the dead dwarves who had been inserted into the totems with distorted faces.

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