"Let her go!" The sonorous voice of the old farmer's wife, which was practiced by calling the cow every day, resounded through the field at this moment, interrupting Ruiwen's impulse to break the cauldron and sink the boat. "Asa, hurry. You take care of it. ”

The cavalrymen stopped their mounts. The farmer and his wife climbed to the top of the hill. Rui Wen bit her cheek hard, and the sharp pain calmed her fighting spirit. She could not let the blood of the Ionians be spilled in her fields.

"I said, you wait at home, until we're done," the leader said to them.

Uncle Asa staggered across the ditch. "She didn't do anything wrong. I brought the stuff with me," he said, gesturing to the cloth bag. "Ask me if you have anything to say."

"Master Comte. Daddy," the leader began. The smile on the thin lips revealed a condescending taste. "You know exactly what she's like. She's made a lot of mistakes. If I had the final say, I would be able to execute her here," he looked Riven up and down, then wrinkled his nose in disgust. "It's a pity, old man, you can save it for the trial."

As the leader spoke, Ruiwen's feet sank into the wet dirt and she couldn't move for a while. A feeling of being stuck in the mire and unable to get out of it swept over us. The pulse becomes fast and shallow. She tried to pull out, but cold sweat ran down her spine. Her consciousness sank into another time, another wilderness. There the horses snorted, and the horses' hooves trampled on the bloody plaster.

Riven closes her eyes to keep herself from being swallowed up by more terrifying memories. She took a deep breath. The spring rain will wash away the land, not the blood of the dead, she said to herself. When I opened my eyes, I saw only people who were alive.

When she opened her eyes, the field was still a field, freshly plowed and had not turned into a corpse field. The cavalryman who led the way turned over and dismounted and walked towards her. He held a pair of handcuffs in his hands, the Ionian ornamentation on them was more delicate than anything used to bind prisoners in her homeland.

"You can't escape the past, Noxus dog," the leader said in a calm, triumphant tone.

Rui Wen's gaze left the ploughshare and looked at the old couple. The ravines on their faces were already filled with sorrow. She was unwilling and could not add more pain to them. Rui Wen wanted to take note of the sight in front of her: the old couple were relying on each other and supporting each other. It was their powerless resistance in the face of plunder. Seeing the old man brushing his tearful face with his sleeve, Rui Wen had to turn her head.

Riven held out her wrist to the cavalry leader. She stared coldly at the leader's contemptuous smile. Cold steel clinged to her skin.

"Don't worry, Daida," cried the farmer's wife. Riven heard desperate hope in her voice. So heavy...... She couldn't afford such heavy hopes. The breeze carried the fragmented sound, and the fragrance of the freshly turned dirt accompanied Ruiwen for a long time. "Daida," the breeze whispered in her ear. "We'll tell them what kind of person you are."

"Daida," Riven whispered. "Daughter."

The girl had been taken away for two days, and Sava Comte was at a loss for what to do but help her wife slowly tidy up the broken ditch and sow the fields. It would have been easier if a girl had helped with the farm work, but if her sons were still alive, neither she nor Asa would have to go to the field.

In the early morning of the day of the trial, the old couple knew that it would take a long time for their legs and feet to reach the town, so they set off before dawn.

"They know she's Noxian."

"You're not worried," Shava said, making a series of gurgling sounds. Realizing that the sound could only soothe the chicks in the coop, she squeezed out a hopeful smile to her wife.

"Noxians. That's enough for them to be condemned. Asa covered his mouth with a hand-woven cashmere scarf and said indistinctly.

In the good days of her life, the most common thing she did was persuade stubborn animals to be in the butcher's pen. So she suddenly stopped, turned her face and faced her wife.

"They don't know her as well as we do," she said, poking him in the chest with a finger in anger. "So let's speak for her, you old goat."

Asa knew that going on would not make her change her mind. So he just nodded slightly. Shava snorted dissatisfied, then turned around and walked towards the center of town without saying a word. The council hall has begun to be occupied. Seeing this, the old woman hurriedly squeezed into the narrow aisle in the middle of the bench, trying to find a seat in the front row...... As a result, he suddenly tripped over the leg of a sleeping man.

The old woman let out a small cry of exclamation, and was about to fall forward. The sleeping man muttered. A lightning-fast hand grabbed the old woman's arm like a pincer, preventing her from falling to the masonry.

"Watch your step, old mother," the stranger whispered faintly, a heavy smell of wine in his mouth, but the words were not ambiguous at all. As soon as the old woman stood firm, he withdrew his hand.

The old woman followed the tip of her nose and looked down at the unexpected benefactor, her pupils gradually tightening. She scrutinized, but the man shrank into the shadow of the cloak, and the looming scar on the bridge of his tall nose vanished into the darkness.

"Young man, the council hall is not a place to wake up with a hangover." Sava straightened his robe, his stubborn chin unrelenting. "This is where a woman's life and death will be decided today. If you don't go quickly, be careful that the magistrates ask you about your sin. ”

"Shava," the old man rushed up and took his wife by the arm. "Don't be angry, we're here to help today. He didn't mean to. Forget it. ”

The man covered his face with a cloak held out two fingers to show no malice, but he kept his face hidden. "Hit the nail on the head, old mother," he said softly, but there was a hint of banter in his voice.

Shava continued to walk forward, collecting her anger like a treasure. When the old man passed by the stranger, he nodded slightly.

"She's not like that, kid. She was just worried that innocent souls would be convicted before the truth could be figured out. ”

The man with the cloak muttered to the old man's back, "In this way, we are of the same opinion, Daddy." ”

This strange whisper made the old man turn his head. But the seat was empty, except for the ghost of a light breeze, which lifted the robes of the person who was next to him. The cloaked stranger had long since disappeared into the shadows in the distance of the council hall.

Sava picked a front-row spot. The smooth spiral pattern of the wooden bench should have been comfortable – something that had been shaped by the weavers to encourage a calm discussion of civic duty – but she was uncomfortable sitting on it. She glanced at her wife, who was already seated on an old wooden round stool, waiting to be summoned. Beside Asa stood a court official, picking his teeth with a wooden stick. The old woman recognized this as Merke, the cavalry leader who captured Ruiwen. She stared at him, but Molk didn't notice. He was staring at the door at the back of the hall. The door opened and closed, and three men in dark robes entered. Molk immediately stood upright, spitting the wooden stick from his mouth aside.