Although Luclecia had done his best, it was too late, too late, and from the mountain walls on both sides, many enemies poured out, dressed in white fur, looking like snow or goats, with crossbow arrows or arquebuses in their hands, and they shot down condescendingly, and Borgia's soldiers fell to the ground helplessly like cattle and horses carrying dowries for Lucrea.

They were clearly purposeful, and when they fired, they avoided the bridges between the Duchess of Urbino and Lucresia, and the messengers of the Duke of Ferrara, who were ruthless and would not let go of one of the soldiers even when they begged to surrender - and before Luclalesia could see what was going on, the Duchess, with a face stained with blood and resentment, quietly got up from behind her, pulled her belt, and put a set around Lucrea's neck.

Lucretia knew it was bad when a shadow suddenly flashed in front of her, but she only had time to put a finger between her belt and her neck, she tried to grasp the belt with one hand, and the frame of the axle with the other, only to hear a creak, the brass frame bent, and the nails of Lucrea's middle and ring fingers were bloodily turned open, and she was forced to retreat, the belt around her neck tightened tighter, and her throat bone erupted in sharp pain under the weight of the pressure—the Duchess's fist was pressed tightly against the base of Lucrea's ear, The upper half of her body pressed against Lucrecia—she wrapped the belt around her wrist several times before crossing it in front of her, Luracia's lungs bulging, but she could still feel the gold thread on the belt squeezing her delicate skin.

The Duchess listened in silence to the giggling sound that the hanged man must have made before he died, and as a noble and illustrious lady, it was not the first time she had heard such a voice, but none of them made her feel more cheerful than this one—the messenger of Ferrara brazenly said that the Borgia prostitute had a voice as beautiful as a yellow warbler, and that he should really be allowed to listen to it, that it was the true sound of heaven!

It was at this moment that a warm touch brushed her cheeks, and it was all the more pronounced when the drapery of the bridge was opened, filling the small space with the icy winter air of the Apennines—the Duchess was not a professional Assassin or executioner, and she didn't know what that meant...... Lucrecia's fingers dug into her eye sockets in the next moment!

The wet and sticky feeling that Lucretia touched with her fingers will never forget for the rest of her life, she suppressed her innate nausea and forced herself to dig down hard, the Duchess's screams almost burst her ears, and the sudden increase in pressure on her neck made her eyes dark, even so, she did not relax, she remembered Julio firmly. What the Medici said when they taught her - there is only one chance, life and death, only one chance to choose.

The restraint on her neck suddenly loosened, and Lucres broke free violently, and she did not even look back to see the Duchess's situation, but rushed to the side of the bridge, her mouth wide open, and the thin air passed through her swollen throat, and she felt pain, and at the same time felt glad that the dead would no longer feel pain—and there was chaos around her, and Luclessia had no time to think, she rolled over the bridge, untied the reins of the "silver foot", turned over and rode on the horse, and sat in a very indecent straddle manner, like a man, but in this position, Let her ride steadily, even if "Silverfoot" ran up the steep slope to avoid the chaos of the mountain path.

The Duchess, covering her bleeding eyes, staggered to the side of the bridge, searched the "enemy" on the hill with a blurred vision, and as soon as she saw the familiar vermilion velvet coat, she shouted hysterically: "She ran, she ran, Jim!" Go get her, catch that Borgia! ”

Standing on the steep slope, pleasantly watching the Venetian who was bleeding from the Borgias, that is, Donotti's husband, an officer, heard the call of the Duchess, and also saw the slender figure on the silver-white horse, fleeing in a hurry, he twisted the corners of his mouth and laughed, snatched the arquebus from his hand, and shot at her, but missed, so he touched the crossbow and short sword on his body, jumped down the steep slope, rushed into the battle, and after slashing two Borgias with his sword, He snatched one of the horses of Ambassador Ferrara and chased after them.

Lucrecia couldn't speak, but the "Silver Feet" were in touch with her, even without spurs and whips, it was galloping faster and faster, the sound of fighting and wailing was left behind by its sturdy fours, and the oncoming wind became more and more sharp, but Lucretia felt more relieved than ever - but the next moment, a dense hail sound sounded behind them.

The Wesneys led their men after them, and when Lucrecia glanced back, she saw no less than twenty figures, the "Silver Feet" still galloping like the wind, but their horses, those from the nobles of Ferrara and Borgia, were not much inferior, and there was only a road in front of her that seemed to be endless, and the steep slopes on either side of the road were covered with thick layers of fresh snow.

Lucretia lifted herself from her horse, inhaled a breath of cold air, and screamed loudly.

This act seriously hurt her previously wounded throat, and the blood rolled in the screams, which were only a few screams like sorrows, and the Venetians who followed behind laughed mockingly, and they even screamed a few times like Lucresia—enough, in places where people could not see, first tiny snow rolls, then large patches of snow slide, then collapses like cliffs or waves, and the white tide carries a thunderous whistling sound in an instant, It wasn't a big avalanche to remember, and the impact on the entire Apennines was even smaller, but enough for a tiny human being, too much.

Amid cries of horror and despair, half of the Venetians were buried in the snow, and Donotti's husband, the Venetian officer, reined in his horse, "Stay, go and save them." He pointed to about seven or eight people, "You guys come with me." He said to the remaining two or three people.

"Adult ......"

"It's just a woman," said Donotti's husband, "and she will not escape my vengeance unless the devil is helping her." ”

He said no more, and as soon as he lifted the reins, he chased after him, and his subordinates looked at each other, and divided into two teams, one to rescue his companions, and the other to follow their superiors.

Lucretia leaned down again, and pressed her cheek against the neck of the "Silver Foot", who seemed to realize that this was the life and death of the master, and the speed became faster and faster, it gasped violently, sweat overflowed, and even the moonlight mane was soaked, and at this moment, the road in front of them suddenly broke - it was a natural stone bridge, carrying the coming and going of humans and ice and snow, and over time, the continuous snow finally became the last fine grass that broke its backbone, and it broke, about fifty feet before and after, This was Lucresia's rough estimate, and she didn't know - she didn't have time to think, as if she was just snapping a finger, and the rift was close at hand.

"Jump!" Lucrecia shouted, "Jump! Silver Foot! Jump! ”

"Silver Foot" hissed, his muscles tensed, and he leaped hard.

The Wesneys who were chasing after them also saw the scene, and Donotti's husband raised his crossbow and pulled the trigger.

The time in the air was so long, Lucresia's eyes widened, the white snow and the gray-black rocks so far away and so close to her, that she didn't realize it until there was a sudden shock underneath her...... And they succeeded! "Silverfoot" flew over the chasm and reached the opposite side - but almost at the same time, it also fell, knocking Luracia out of the way. Lucretia was in pain and her vision was blurred, but she stood up as soon as she could, groping for Silverfoot's side.

She closed her eyes, her vision gradually cleared, and her heart fell heavily - a short crossbow arrow was inserted in the left back of the silver foot, the crossbow arrow did not penetrate the flesh, but it affected the balance of the "silver foot" in the air, although it tried to send its master to safety, it fell and broke its own legs, let alone run, it was impossible to even stand up.

Lucrecia looked up and saw that there was an argument between the Venetians opposite, and it could be seen that one of them was not willing to give up, he was turning his horse around, trying to make up for the lack of distance with speed, but how could his subordinates let him take the risk, but they did not convince him after all, and by the time Luclecia looked over, he had retreated to a place that was almost invisible—Lucrea knew that he was coming.

She didn't hesitate any longer, took out a honey-stained apple from her small pocket, and stuffed it into Silverfoot's mouth, which was his favorite food, and Silverfoot ate it contentedly, and licked her hand again, which then moved upward, covering Silverfoot's eyes, and the wind blew through the area soaked with Silverfoot's saliva, so cold that Lucretia shivered—her other hand, holding the dagger, pierced through Silverfoot's eye socket—lest she pierce deep enough, and pressed her body up.

And the "silver foot" was still so gentle, it died silently, and the temperature of its body quickly faded in the cold wind.

Lucretia stood up, cut off the overly long skirt, and walked forward resolutely.

After about five or six minutes, Donotti's husband, the man of Wisney, forced his horse with spurs and daggers with an unusual force, and he succeeded in crossing the chasm, but his horse could not stand up either, and instead of mercifully giving it the final blow, he immediately followed the footprints that had not yet been obscured by the wind and snow.

Unlike Lucresia, he was a strong young man, and he did not skimp on the horse, and when he landed, he made the horse his own cushion, and he was hardly injured, and he soon saw the thin figure, and he rushed forward, and with a lunge forward, he took Lucrecia in his hands.

"Got you!" He shouted, slapping Lucrecia several times, bleeding from the corners of her eyes and mouth, as he rolled over and rode on top of her, "You Borgia," he scolded through gritted teeth. In addition to his poor wife, and his friends and subordinates who had followed him all the way here, they were still buried in the snow, and their fate was uncertain: "I will kill you," he cried, "but before that," he said, "I will let every young man in my squadron come and taste what the Borgia witch is like!" You're going to be dragged naked into the streets, everyone is going to spit on you, I'm going to burn you and make your soul wail in hell!"

Lucretia grasped the dagger, but he noticed it, he smiled cruelly, grabbed the hand that held the dagger, and struck a dozen times in a row on a bare rock without mercy, even if the dagger came out of his hand at the third blow and slipped far away, he still held on until the tendons of the hand were broken and the flesh was blurred.

He could still hear the cry of the Borgia witch at first, and then it suddenly disappeared, and the Venetian looked down and found that she had fainted, and even if she was not a woman, but a man, and she did not beg for mercy until now, it was quite respectable, but the disappearance of his wife (who was almost certain to be dead) and the loss of his colleagues and subordinates had filled the hearts of the Venetians with hatred, and he was determined to fulfill his promise, and reached out to tear open Lucrecia's breast.

When he saw Lucretia wearing a man's pants under her skirt, he spat out, "Sure enough, it's a witch!" He said, looking for the dagger to cut it open.

He paused in his movements, and a toy-small Hidden Blade popped out from between Lucreesia's fingers and stabbed into his thigh, an injury that was nothing to a grown male, except for ...... Poison that flows into his veins from the hollow pores.

The Venetian stiffened his hand, perhaps he wanted to do something, but Lucres just pushed, and he fell to the ground in that odd position.

Since he remembered that Luracia was the witch of Borgia, he should not forget about Borgia's "Canterella".

Lucrecia crawled to the side and wept, she wasn't crying for the "Silver Feet", for herself, for the Borgias.

She was crying for her brother, her father, because the fruits of violence had landed.