Esher threw the whetstone off the wall, pressed the index finger of his right hand on the blade of the axe, the paper-thin blade pressed the fingertip slightly down, and then cut a small hole, and a drop of red blood slowly slid down the belly of the finger. Eshu looked at the bloody mouth carefully, it was no longer bleeding, the separated skin and flesh were closing at a slow but visible speed, and soon there was only a pale mark on the index finger, which was soon drowned out by the rich blood around it. The wound seemed to have never existed, but the drop of blood had dried in his palm, and a mottled dark red ribbon dragged down his fingertips.

Eishu clenched his fists expressionlessly, and his palms were closed, crushing the blood beads into fine powder. He spread his hands, and then he rubbed his neck gently, feeling the location of the major arteries with his fingers. If you cut it down here, it's better to cut off your head as well, then even if you soak me in 'Pande's most precious wine', it won't heal, right? He thought maliciously. If I die, will that bullshit prophecy from Madigan become a complete joke?

A burst of electricity flowed through Estheu's left hand holding the hatchet, and every muscle on the back of his hand trembled wildly. He involuntarily clenched the handle of the axe, his heart pounding at the radical thought, not out of fear, but out of excitement, as if he were about to cut not his own lifeline, but the chains that bound him.

But do I really want to die? Eshua asked himself in his heart.

Do you really want to die? Someone asked him again in his heart. The voice was low and hoarse, and only a throat that had been soaked in inferior ale for a long time had this grand timbre like sandpaper. The old drunkard has a similar voice, but the tone is different. The old drunkard spoke lightly and arrogantly every time, and the cynical banter was almost as strong as the wine in his mouth. At this time, the voice that inquired about him in Ai Xiu's heart was listless, like a decadent middle-aged man. For a moment, Eshua felt that this voice was very familiar and kind, but he couldn't remember who it was for a while.

Why do you want to die? The voice asked him. You are not yet twenty years old, but you have already given several unbeatable super-first-class martial artists what it is like to be dusty on the ground; You are currently only a mercenary leader, but many big people remember you and sing your deeds in the clouds; You're even ready to make a big splash in the North. If you want to give up your life so much, maybe you should be killed in the arena of Janos.

I know when you had this self-destructive thought, from the moment the girl from the empire recited Madigan's "Long Prophetic Poem" in front of you. The voice continued, like a devil who had touched the most secluded part of his heart, and every word could grasp Estheau's deeply buried thoughts, and then uproot them like turnips, leaving them naked in the air. I know why you have the idea that you are angry at that boring stupid inexplicable prophecy, and the people who believe in it make you equally angry, and they look at you and point at you to make you feel like a marionette. Worst of all, everything you've done so far is largely out of your own choice. You are unaware of the rope that manipulates you, and the fear of this "unknown" is the source of your anger.

Death is certainly the best way to escape fear, but have you ever thought about it? If you die, the surname Baranduk disappears forever in Pande. The voice paused for the last time. I also died in vain.

"I don't want to die, and I can't die." Eshua replied in a low voice, recognizing the owner of the voice. "It was, it is, and it will be. Not only for myself," his voice was so soft that he couldn't hear it, "but also for you...... Father. ”

It's just that I'm really out of anger.

Anger was about to be vented, Eshu said to himself. Just outside the city, there is a perfect person to vent to.

……

The open space between the second and third inner urn cities of the West Gate had already set up a number of cauldrons, and viscous green medicinal juice was tumbling in it. Next to each cauldron was a masked handyman, stirring with a thick wooden spoon.

"The third row of pots has been opened, and each pot is filled with half a catty of burning blood licorice." The man in the crow's mask gave orders, standing on a makeshift platform, his eyes constantly sweeping from pot to pot through the rising steam. He was undoubtedly an experienced pharmacologist who could judge how well a medicinal soup was boiling just by his eyes. And again, because of his experience, he still wears a mask even when he keeps a certain distance from those cauldrons.

"The first row is ready, start the pot immediately!" He shouted, "Move fast! If you are late, the effect of stimulants will not be so strong! Immediate substitution of those who have already had an uncomfortable reaction! ”

Luciana watched from afar at the gate of the third inner urn city, covering her mouth and nose tightly with three layers of silk, so that the sweetness that floated in the air would not penetrate her nostrils. It is the smell of blood licorice released at high temperatures, and although it smells good, it is better to stay away if you don't want to have endocrine disorders in the next three months. Except for Boynbrough, there is probably no other place to see the burning blood licorice of the Pound. All countries outside the northern borders blacklist this potent stimulant herb, and while a small amount of blood-burning licorice can reduce a soldier's perception of pain and maximize neuromuscular stimulation for a short period of time, making him as fierce as a Fieldsway berserker on the battlefield, it can greatly damage the body's immune system. Once you take the blood-burning licorice, the rest of your body will have to spend with endless pain.

"Do you regret not going with the others to evacuate?" The white-haired and chest-length old man patted her shoulder, and he also covered his mouth and nose with silk, "If it weren't for the fact that Wang Li Academy strictly forbids the use of coercive measures against students, I would have knocked you out and stuffed you into the carriage." If something happens, Eldo will probably send me to Issos to vent his anger on Justus. ”

"If I'm not mistaken, this house rule is still set by the dean, right?" Luciana pouted, "But where did you get so much blood-burning licorice in the academy?" The climate and soil in the north are not suitable for the growth of this medicinal herb? Low temperatures and frozen soil are simply their natural enemies. ”

"I bought it with an old friend." Brochette remembered the flowing and curly mustache, and the corners of his eyes twitched slightly.

Luciana glanced up at Brosette and didn't continue.

"How's it going, North?" Brochette shouted at the man in the raven mask.

"The last batch of stimulants has been brewed." All the pots in the clearing were taken out, and the medicinal juices were poured into wooden bowls by the handymen. Dams jumped off the platform and walked towards Brockchette, "Dean, you're finally here, and you still have to worry about the preparation of injury medicine, I haven't been particularly perfect in this regard." ”

"No problem." Brochet nodded, "Meet Lucy, a new member of our theological circle. And this," he said, looking at Luciana, "is the current Grand Instructor of Pharmacology and Toxicology at the Royal College, Nos Damms. A few years ago he succeeded in diluting the toxicity of blood-burning licorice, which are the results of his research. He stretched out his finger to the phalanx of wooden bowls in the clearing, which were intended for the wounded who would later retreat from the front line. At the same time, he is also the only theological scholar in the circle who has won the stone bead. Of course," said Brochette half-jokingly, "is still an unskilled potion concoctor, and has to let his mentor do it for him." ”

"Dean, you don't need to go into such detail, do you?" Dams chuckled a few times under his mask and held out his hand to Luciana, "Welcome aboard, newcomer." This is the first time since its establishment that the Theological Institute has included such a young member. ”

"You're the only scholar to have earned the Theological Jewel?" Luciana looked at Dams curiously, "Didn't the dean?" ”

"Of course not." Dams said, "He gave me the beads. Because he is the founder of theological theory, and his status is equivalent to that of the chief great teacher—"

"But even if it's the chief great mentor, he can't award himself a stone bead, and the rules of the academy are like this—I didn't make it this time." Brochette shrugged, "But the three academic rings I already have are full of stone beads, and even if I were allowed to, I wouldn't be able to find a place to put them." And I don't want to put on a fourth one at the moment, it's not light. Three is enough for me. ”

Angry shouts of murder came from the direction of the outer urn city, interrupting the conversation between the three of them. "Here we go." Brochette gently twisted his long beard, "Hurry up, this place will be full of wounded in a few moments." ”

"Shhhhh......h ”

Dams and Brochette were stunned as they listened. An extremely violent roar gradually emerged from the waves, and no clear characters could be heard, the growler seemed to be simply venting his emotions, but his emotions were so hot that they surpassed the sound of thousands of people shouting together!

"The voice ......," Luciana stealthily tugged at Brochette's sleeve.

"Hmm." Brochette nodded lightly and replied quietly, "It's him." ”

"Huh, this sound sounds familiar?" Dams said suddenly.

Luciana and Brochette turned in amazement to look at Damus, who was scratching the beak of a bird on his crow mask and wondering, "When did you hear that?" Yes! He patted his head excitedly, "It's the young man who was poisoned by the 'Blue Star' yesterday!" He's still alive, and he seems to be alive! It's amazing! Dean, can you invite him back to Wang Li College to study if you have a chance! ”

。 All come to read m.