"This is Lord Richard, the famous warrior of Pompeii, who has come to help us fight the bandits. "Anne doesn't bring a draft at all when she blows the cowhide.

The dwarven warriors saluted him in unison.

Regardless of whether the title of famous warrior is in water or not, it is a minimum of etiquette to be able to come to their aid at this time of year.

"Then your vindictive cultivation must be very profound?" Robbie asked like a child grasping at the last straw, full of hope.

"I'm sorry, I haven't practiced vindictiveness. "Your Excellency's face is as usual.

This Robbie is too rude by any measure. Richard didn't know how old he was, but he was undoubtedly too young psychologically, and he could even be said to be completely childish.

The death of his father and brother and the plight of the tribe probably made his inner world close to collapse, and the pressure of no catharsis tortured his reason like a file, so it was normal to behave strangely.

Richard was not angry at all, and even sympathized with him in his heart, and it was undoubtedly a tragedy for all dwarves, including himself, that this responsibility should not be borne by him, but he had to bear it.

"If you haven't cultivated Dou Qi, what do you rely on to become a famous warrior. A vivid and vivid disappointment melted across Robbie's face.

"Rely on your peers to set off. Richard smiled at him.

When he first connected with the dwarven tribe, in order to avoid irritating the other party to cause misunderstandings, he set off with only his shield, and the exaggerated dragon slaying giant sword was left in place.

Not to mention that Hurt is a sycophant, and he has worked hard to bring weapons for the lord, and only now has he had the opportunity to hand them over to him.

Richard saw some blood and mud on the blade, and took it and waved it twice to try to shake it off.

It was a guy of more than seventy pounds, and under the strong arm grip, it instantly turned into a black shadow that was difficult to catch by the eye, and drew a figure of eight in mid-air.

The dull whine of the heavy weapon breaking through the air suddenly became heard, and the sword wind that set off made the withered grass leaves on the ground take off and swirl with it.

It is worthy of being a fine product created by the centaur blacksmith with heart, it is not very dirty at all, and the sword body is clean and bright after being shaken.

The dwarven warriors' eyes suddenly straightened.

All of them are experts who have played iron all their lives, and they can estimate the weight with a glance.

Seventy or eighty pounds of weight does not seem to be very exaggerated, and an ordinary adult farmer who is frail and sickly can hold it with all his might.

But in fact, there are two fundamental concepts of holding up and wielding combat, and the average person's weapon is only five or six pounds, and the dwarves who claim to be strong rarely use more than thirty pounds, and no matter how heavy they are, it is difficult to maintain flexibility.

To be able to play with a weapon of this weight as light as a feather, how exaggerated and brilliant that kind of physical power should be.

There is never only one way to combat effectiveness, and all roads can eventually lead to Cologne, and it doesn't matter whether you are fighting or not in the face of such a force.

"Can you give my subordinates a place to rest and rest, we have been on the road all night and have fought again, and we are very tired. Richard put away his sword and yawned.

"Many of the tribe's stone houses are empty, and while they may be a little short for you, they should be fine just for rest. ”

Richard led the men to the garrison assigned to Fort Alpine, and Anne walked beside him, hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Robbie isn't usually like this, he ......"

"He's not at all fit to be a patriarch, especially at this time of year. Richard said as he walked, "God, just standing there is bad morale. ”

"Richard, you're too harsh, he's only forty-five years old this year, which is equivalent to a thirteen or fourteen-year-old child in a human race. Anne was also helpless.

"I can sympathize with his young age, but can the enemy also sympathize with him?" Richard simply paused and asked rhetorically.

"The old patriarch was Robbie's father, and he was a tough and stubborn old man. Anne reached out and brushed her hair to her ears, it hadn't rained much tonight, but her hair was almost soaked when she had been standing outside.

"But I didn't expect him to die. ”

"It seems that the roof was broken, but it was just in time for the overnight rainstorm to come across such a treasure. Richard sighed and shook his head.

He probably understood what was going on - the old patriarch and several heirs had died in battle, and Robbie was the logical first heir. But on the contrary, his age, ability, and character are not suitable for being a patriarch.

As a result, this already stormy dwarven tribe became even more stormy.

"Robbie, actually, is the smartest of any dwarves I've ever met, but his cleverness is limited to tinkering with odd things. Anne suddenly remembered the magical eagle eyeglasses, "I think you two should have something in common." ”

"If we can win this battle. Richard rolled his eyes and walked to the camp without looking back.

The dwarven women and children were serving large pieces of roast meat and ale to friendly warriors, and it seemed that they had quite enough supplies.

Richard was really a little hungry after a night of water and rice, so he bent down and went into the house, picked up a piece of roast lamb ribs, ripped off the meat and stuffed it into his mouth, and nodded while chewing.

The racial barbecue that is good at using fire is really good, and the smoke and fat flavor of the ribs in his hand are very fine in the flames, and there is a simple and mellow meat aroma, which is the most satisfying thing for him tonight.

However, it only stopped after eating a little, and now no one knows when the enemy will attack, so it is necessary to remain in a state of readiness at all times. In the past, when he played in the martial arts arena, he knew that eating too much before the war would affect his performance.

The stone roof was so low that Richard could barely stand upright, and Gunther had to sit cross-legged on the ground.

This former icefield hunter is also very experienced, and like his own lord, he only ate half full, and began to lean against the wall to close his eyes and recuperate.

"Boss, why do I think this stone house seems to be a little shaken. Gunther didn't have long to rest before he suddenly sat up again, touched the back of his head, and looked at the wall behind him suspiciously.

"No, I don't think this house is cutting corners. ”

Richard was extremely energetic, and not sleeping all night was not even a hair to him. Sitting at the doorway, he was enthusiastically teaching a few dwarven children to play poker, and he was about to win out of his jelly beans.

The situation is like a fire, and no one knows if he can see the sun tomorrow. The dwarf who saw this scene was disdainful, but he had to admit in his heart that he was somewhat admired.

After all, even if it's pretending, at least half of it has to be true to be able to pretend to be this point.