Eshu stared at Wren silently, noncommittal. He had just killed no less than sixty people, his face was still frozen with black blood, and there seemed to be a large red rose blooming on his single clothes, but his eyes were calm and cold, there was no murderous aura, and there was no undulating emotion, like a clear and gentle tributary flowing out of the river of blood. Under Estheu's gaze, Wren felt a thousand pressures, but his waist was still straight: "Although you mercenaries can't be required by the standards of the army, there should always be a spirit of contract, right?" You've spent the next three weeks in Boimbru fighting bandits, not drinking in Ryan's tavern. I admit that the size of this group of bandits was unusual, and one of them even wore the fur of a white wolf. If it weren't for Your Excellency's bravery, I'm afraid even I would have died here. But Your Excellency's courage does not seem to be worthy of this martial bravery. Wren's voice was also calm, "If Your Excellency insists on leading the team back to Ryan, then according to the orders of Viscount Ivanles, I will terminate the contract and expel you from the North." ”

"Estheu, he has a point. We still have a contract with us, after all. Kia whispered, he was bandaging his wounds under his ribs, half of his body exposed to the biting cold, shivering like chaff. Anson, you- did you learn wound management? ”

Anson nodded: "The basics of the basics, it's still okay." He had been firmly protected by Salamane in the previous battle, and he had not suffered any skin injuries, except for a swollen patch on his forehead, which had been smashed by the handle of an axe that had flown from nowhere when Eshu had been slashing through the crowd.

"Very well," Kia finished dressing her wounds, wrapping herself tightly in her cotton clothes, "the wounded people come to me and Anson to bandage their wounds, rest for a while, and get ready to go." ”

"What if there is another attack of this magnitude next?" "This person—" he pointed to Anthony Mul's corpse, "he claims to be the honorary guardian of some oracle, I don't know what that title represents, but I know he's strong." What if, next, two or more people like him appear? ”

"No, it won't." Someone said softly behind Eshu.

It was Luciana, whose face was a little pale as she poked out of the carriage, and her eyes were like those of a frightened fawn, and she wandered around in a panic, and then shrank back. "No, it won't." She repeated it again in a firm tone.

"Are you sure?" Eshu didn't look back.

"White wolf skin, oracle, he should be one of the honorary guards of the Omenwolf Wolf. Ancient books say that they were both brave warriors, and that their fanaticism for force reached a certain level of reverence, second only to the god of the Misty Mountains, Vijovis. They will reverently sacrifice their white wolf skins as trophies to those who have defeated them, while the rest of the Misty Mountain people will not be embarrassed to defeat the warriors of the Honorary Guard. Luciana pointed to the bloodstained white wolf skin, "Hang that white wolf skin, and there should be no more raiding squads attacking us all the way back." ”

"Is it true?" Essho looked at Wren suspiciously.

"I don't know, I haven't heard of it." Wren shook his head, "And defeat the Honorary Guardian of the Omenwolf Wolves?" He was clearly killed, right? ”

"So we have to hurry, the Misty Mountain people are a very vengeful tribe, and we need to rush to Boinbru before they know that the owner of this white wolf skin has died at the hands of Mr. Baranduk." Luciana gently covered her nose, "Hurry up, there are so many people dying here, even if it's freezing, the stench of dying incontinence will spread sooner or later - in fact, I can't stand it anymore." She shrank back again.

Kia sighed, "Just do as she says, Estheau, we have no choice of turning back." ”

"Is there only one way out?" Eshua muttered to himself, his voice low and soft, like a puff of snow dust swept up by the wind.

"Then let's move forward!"

……

Fieldsway, Jan Wick.

Every year at the beginning of spring, the hot and humid sea breeze and the cold currents from the north meet in the skies over Yanvikshuo, shrouding the largest port city in the west in a fog with the smell of the sea, and the ships returning from the ocean break through the mist like black beasts to anchor on the shore. In the mouths of the bards, this is the best season of Janvikshuo, and they imagine that the city is a beautiful maiden, covered only with a hazy veil of light, which arouses reverie. Walking through the streets is like immersing yourself in the soft arms of a maiden, and the sea breeze is her soft but provocative breath, more intoxicating than mellow spirits. But the old and rough aristocrats of the Van Zekeri bloodline don't think so, the humid spring is their most hated season, the fog makes them breathe unpleasantly, they feel like puddles of water have accumulated in their lungs after staying outside for a long time, and weapons and armor are easy to rust in this weather.

Maryse stood at the head of the Inner Castle, her armor drowning with waterdrops, and her face wet, but her eyes that had once been flying and domineering were now hollow, like two dry wells.

Footsteps sounded, and Hercules silently walked up to her side and stood side by side with her. Like Marys, he wore a full suit of armor: "The arbitration against you is about to begin." I'm here to take you over. ”

"I know." Maryse whispered, "Fort Dragonguard has fallen short, and I am fully responsible." Sorry, I was too foolish at the time. She looked at Hercules, "What will happen to me?" ”

Hercules hesitated for a moment: "Marquis Aydin and Marquis Airy are joining forces to put pressure on Marquis Sigimund, but their purpose should not be to execute you - after all, you are still a quasi-first-class martial artist, and His Majesty will not allow your execution lightly." ”

"Uncle Inna, like you, was also a super-first-class martial artist of Fieldsway. But what about him now? Maryse glanced at Hercules, "But you're right about one thing, Aydin certainly wouldn't want to execute me." His precious son, Rugbyjo, has coveted me for a long time, but I have always responded to his pursuit with my fists. It was a good time for him to take advantage of the situation, and the Marquis of Aydin certainly welcomed a daughter-in-law surnamed Sigimund—and a daughter-in-law who was favored by his father. Aydin, Airy, Siggimond, and the three Fields Wills were invisibly on the same front. Two lines of tears hung on Marith's face, she took a deep breath and coughed heavily, "Look, am I very talented in politics?" ”

A warm, yet stiff hand gently patted Maise's back, and Hercules brushed away the tears from her face somewhat awkwardly, his face flushed as if it were a steamed crab shell, and there seemed to be steaming heat coming out from behind the roots of his ears. Marise was taken aback by his affectionate gesture and subconsciously avoided his hand: "What do you do?" ”

"It's just that you're sad and a little unbearable." Hercules said sneeringly, retracting his hand and avoiding Maise's gaze, "Don't worry, although I don't understand politics, I also know that what you say is unlikely to come true." It's almost time, let's go. Hercules pulled out the shackles from behind him, "The program requires it, don't mind." ”

Marise put her hand in the shackles and looked at Hercules' flushed face: "What did you mean just now?" ”

"You'll figure it out soon." Hercules smiled shyly at her. 10