While Arthur was disdainful, Davar also found an uninvited guest in the courtyard.

He didn't ask a question right away, but gave his mother a wink.

"Davar, this gentleman said that he had come to you on the orders of His Excellency Tsepes."

After listening to his mother's explanation, Davar still had suspicion in his eyes.

"Forgive my presumptuousness, sir, and hope you can prove your identity."

Davar interrogated Arthur while holding the handle of the short knife at his waist with his right hand.

Several old men and teenagers in the courtyard also tacitly surrounded Arthur in the middle, and there was a posture of killing people if they disagreed.

Arthur was already in a bad mood, but now he felt even more offended, and in a moment of anger, he directly pulled out the mace inserted in his waist.

The hammer is about 80 centimeters long and is made of metal throughout, and the hammer head has a blade-shaped radial shape.

At the end of the handle, a metal chain is inlaid with a metal chain that can be put on the hand to prevent the mace from falling out of the hand.

Throughout the Middle Ages, the mace was definitely one of the most powerful weapons, and ordinary armor could not withstand its hammering at all.

Seeing Arthur show his weapons, several teenagers were slightly flustered, while several old men took a step forward, and their cloudy old eyes burst out with strong battle intent.

The man who lost his left arm used his only right hand to pull out the sword at his waist, and the momentum on his body changed abruptly.

"A couple of old guys who walk shaky.

A few children who have never seen the world.

This guy's posture is not bad, but it's a pity that an arm is missing.

Hey, those women, get out of the way, that's not what you're supposed to do. ”

The change in the people in the courtyard surprised Arthur a little, but in the end, he still made a bad assessment with a disgusted face.

"Hehe, your tone is not small, but you yourself are not a little guy who has not grown all the hair."

The old man's voice came from near the courtyard gate, and it was the old man who had just come in after Davar.

Obviously, although Arthur didn't target him, his words made him very unhappy.

"I'm not like you, I'm a trained warrior, I'm able to fight the Ottomans.

And you, you, will only drag Tsepesh's hind legs, and before you add to the chaos, quickly disperse. ”

"The little guy who has never seen blood dares to call himself a warrior.

I have killed more Ottomans than I have killed at your age. ”

The voice of the old man at the door sounded again, and the information contained in it made Arthur have to abandon his arrogance and look directly into the old man's eyes with an equal attitude.

"Eagle Legion, Third Cadet Knights, Zartya."

Under Arthur's direct gaze, the old man reported his name and his former number.

The Eagle Legion has become a legend, because it was the name of more than 30 years ago, and it has long ceased to exist.

In 1411 Julian A.D., Wallachia became a vassal state of the Ottomans.

And before that, the valiant Wallachians, time and time again, drove the invading Ottomans away.

The Eagle Legion, become a hero who defends the country until the day when he loses the battle.

Wallachia then fell, and within a few years, at the behest of the Ottomans, the Eagle Legion was disbanded.

Arthur couldn't help but feel respect in his heart when he heard the number that only existed in legends.

And that's far from the end.

"Zartya? I've heard of you, that third team madman.

I'm Quinseth, the archer of the Seventh Brigade, not as famous as you, and I don't know how many Ottomans I've killed.

Now I'm dazzled and my vision is a little blurry, but I can still kill those pups. ”

An old man in the crowd spoke, another former veteran.

"My name is Mayes, I'm also on Team Seven, and I'm a comrade to Quinn.

I had only fought two battles and killed three Ottomans. ”

"My name is Fatem, the second infantry team, and I have also killed three Ottomans."

"My name is Syaarko, and I've only killed one Ottoman, so don't laugh at me."

One after another old voices sounded, and the old people present reported their achievements of the year.

Although the tone is ordinary, everyone can hear their pride.

At this time, the last old man spoke: "My name is Mir, and I have only fought in the last battle.

I was only sixteen years old at the time, and I was afraid that I could not kill the Ottomans.

I regret this for 36 years, and I only hope that this time, I can kill a local dog and make up for the regret of that year. ”

No one laughed at Mir, because his words reminded everyone.

It has been 36 years since the last battle of the year, and the young man who was once eighteen or nineteen years old has become a dying old man.

In this era, everyone who lives to be in their fifties can be regarded as a long-lived elder.

The moment they were called up by Davar, all of them believed that it was God's arrangement.

God has kept them alive to give them a chance to continue fighting for Wallachia with the sword in their hands before they are buried in the grave.

After all the old people had been introduced, Arthur withdrew the mace and got down on one knee with guilt and respect.

"I apologize for what I said, you are the best fighters, always, no matter your age."

"Hahaha, in fact, what you said is right, if you stay at home and take care of our days, we are indeed all old waste.

But as long as we are given weapons, even if our bodies are old, our fighting spirit is still the same as back then.

I don't dare to make too many promises, but at the very least, I will take an Ottoman with me at the last moment of my life and go to hell with me forever. ”

"Sir, you will not fall into hell, only those Ottomans will, heaven will always have your place."

"No, young people, we old men, we will all fall into hell.

Since the defeat in the last battle of that year, we, the surviving warriors, have no qualifications to go to heaven.

There is no need to comfort us, because we are ready, in hell, to fight the Ottomans. ”

The excitement could no longer be suppressed, and tears were surging in the corners of Arthur's eyes.

Not only him, but Davar, the women and teenagers around him, their eyes became moist.

"The Ottomans killed my father, and I will fight them too!"

"My father and two older brothers, all died three years ago, and I want to avenge them!"

"Three years ago, I lost my father and husband, and although I knew I was useless, I still had to fight the Ottomans.

Even if I would be easily killed by the Ottomans. ”

The surrounding boys and women wept and told their sad stories, and at the same time strengthened their determination to fight.

Finally, the man who lost his left arm said: "Three years ago, I lost an arm, along with four thousand comrades-in-arms, and all the honors.

In fact, not all of the 4,000 hussars were killed in battle, less than 2,000 became prisoners of the Ottomans, and I was one of them.

And those damned Ottomans, in order to deter the surrounding enemies, waved their butcher knives at the captives without any restraint.

I was lucky enough to block it with my left arm and then fell into a coma.

When I woke up again, the crows were pecking at my severed arm, and the corpses were enough to feed them.

I got my life back, but I'm dead.

Since then, I have barely been out of the house, sadly supporting myself on my wife, until I met the Knight of Davar.

He encouraged me, he trusted me, he called me into the ranks, and I had the courage to pick up my sword again. ”

After telling his story, the man put away his sword and bowed deeply to Davar.

Davar waved his hand repeatedly, his face was a little red, and he looked a little funny because he was nervous and speechless.

However, Arthur did not laugh at Davar for this, and he remembered the words of Cepesh, this little groom, worthy of trust.