The world is bleak and the heart is difficult to be ancient

Dust does not return, dust does not soil

I know who it is

What a Caesar and God

This is a witty poem written by a poor French poet in the 1,200th year of the Yahr calendar, Lütbouff. Lütboff was born in poverty and was poor all his life, but he had a talent for irony, and everything in the world could not be included in the poem. Seeing that the continent of Europa had fallen from the Roman Empire, with all the lords and lords of the kingdom in a disorderly manner, and the clergy and knights all being greedy, he was moved to write this poem, which was compiled into a volume with more than 20 other lyrical poems, entitled "The Poverty of Rütbov." The Holy See and the nations forbade their slander so much. Other poems have disappeared, but this poem has spread far and wide, spread among the palaces and markets, and has been widely sung.

Behind Ruttebouv, the continental strife remained unsettled. There are troubles in Mongolia and Arabia outside, and disputes among princes and nations inside. Lu's words have not changed in the slightest. In the midst of this hustle and bustle, more than 200 years have passed, and in a blink of an eye, it has reached the autumn season of 1,419 years of the Yeli calendar.

The day is about to end, the remnant sun is like blood, a touch of afterglow wanders between the lofty mountains of the Carpathians, reflecting the layers of peaks and peaks in a red color, and the deep sunset shadow is cast between the mountain cols, lining out a little desolate, a little gloomy.

At this time, on a narrow path in the mountains, a knight walked slowly with his retinue. This knight is over forty years old, with thick silkworm eyebrows and beard, and a square face that is a little steady, but a scar the size of an earthworm on his face is shocking. Dressed in a linen cloak and with a steel broadsword hanging from his waist, he walked ahead. The knight was a few steps away, his bags hung on either side of his mount, and he staggered as he walked. Behind the horse there was also a small pale yellow flag, which was displayed in the wind, embroidered with a griffin and a spear.

The knight chanted this little poem by Ruttebouv, and the whip in his hand slowly brushed the horse's mane. When he heard it from behind, he couldn't help laughing and saying, "Master, your poem is more than a hundred times stronger than the sermon of that priest." The knight said: "How can I have such a poetic talent, in fact, it is the pen of a poet in my country two hundred years ago, Lütberf. Counted, he is still half of my countrymen. Hu Cong sighed: "If everyone writes poems so straightforwardly, maybe I can read a few more of them." The knight laughed loudly: "This man's writing is really good, but it is not mean, and it is not a proper system after all." Hu Cong said: "Isn't the way of the world today what he wrote? Although I don't read, my eyes are not bad. If that class of nobles can fight for some energy, why do you bother your master to come to this barren mountain where birds don't?"

The knight was about to answer, when his expression suddenly froze, and his right hand pressed the hilt of the sword sharply, and said in a low voice: "There seems to be a neighing of horses ahead, you go and take a look." "This path is close to a deep cliff, and the width is only enough for three riders to ride in parallel, which is extremely dangerous, and it is most suitable for cutting the path to rob the road, so that pedestrians have to be careful.

Hu Cong immediately turned over and dismounted, drew a mace from his horse's back, and leaned forward. He walked two hundred and ten paces, turned a corner, and saw more than a dozen people on the side of the road. The dozen or so people were originally sitting on the ground, but suddenly saw Hu Cong, "Ahhhhhhh For a while, there was a lot of noise, and a few people in the middle had already held the long sword in their hands and pounced.

Hu Cong smiled slightly, not afraid, and smashed the mace towards those people. He practiced the Thirty-Six Roman Hammer, which was extremely powerful in close combat, and his shot was as fast as lightning, and a hammer turned into a hundred and ten afterimages in an instant. Those few people hurriedly took the long sword to block the grid in a panic, where could they still take care of it, Hu Cong shouted: "Medium!" The mace instantly pecked the wrists of the three people, and the three long swords fell to the ground.

The rest of the people hurriedly stabbed with their swords, flicked slightly from their right legs, and their bodies fluttered lightly in mid-air, and the hammer pulled out several hammer flowers. The long swords of those people were buzzed, and they felt that their wrists were soft, and their qi and blood were surging, and they could barely hold their blades. This move is called the "Sicilian Circle", which is a move evolved from the Roman Circle, and is most suitable for one enemy.

Hu was hit by a blow, and immediately retracted, his face was calm and relaxed, and these few downward clouds and rivers showed extraordinary means. He looked carefully, and saw that these people were wearing purple cloth robes, wearing round felt hats, and there were more than a dozen camels and horses beside them, and a bunch of small mountain-like boxes and cloth bags were resting near the left, and his heart was settled. He put the hammer back into his waist, stepped forward with a big grin, and said aloud: "Don't panic, you guys, I'm not a thief." ”

The group of people looked at each other, and a thin old man in the middle saw that no one else was speechless, and stepped forward and said, "If you are not a thief, how can you appear here?" Hu Cong said: "I and the master of my family are also passing through this place, because I heard the neighing of horses, I was afraid that it was a strong man who set up an ambush, so he sent me over to see the limelight." After hearing the explanation, everyone's faces were relieved, and the old man said, "Where is your master now? Hu Cong said: "It's not far behind, wait for me to call him over." ”

With that, he turned away, and in a moment he was back in front of the knight's horse. The knight hurriedly asked how the situation was, and Hu Cong smiled: "It turned out to be just a group of Venetian caravans resting, it's okay, it's okay." The knight was slightly surprised: "You are so sharp that you can see their details." Hu Cong said: "The felt hats they wear are all trimmed with gold thread, and although the robes are empty, at a glance you can see that they are used for jade sachets. ”

The knight laughed when he heard this, and the two of them remounted their horses, and walked on their way to the place where the caravan had settled. The knight looked around and let out an exclamation. It turned out that there was a towering giant tree on the side of the road ahead, and the tree circumference was less than ten hugs. Because the slope soil collapsed, the body of the tree was half tilted, and half of the roots were exposed, and it became a shelter made in heaven. The roots of the cave have been smoked to half black, which shows that most of the past travelers stopped under this tree to raise a fire overnight.

When the merchants saw the knight coming, they rose up and saluted. The old man, who was obviously the leader of the group, walked up to the knight and looked at him, and said, "Giorgio Lonconi of Venice is a small businessman who runs several small businesses in the Italian city-states. Behind him are all peers of the business inn. I don't know what your Excellency will call you?" he first reported himself to the door of his house to show his sincerity, and then asked the name of the person so that his behavior would not be obtrusive or arouse disgust.

Seeing that his tone was respectful, the knight also replied politely: "I am the Viscount Durand from Champagne-Ardennes, and just now it was my subordinate Brownold. Ronconi's face was pale, and he couldn't imagine that the person in front of him was actually French. Sir. He glanced at the servant and said suspiciously: "This place is deserted and dangerous, the son of a daughter, he can't sit down, since the lord is a nobleman, why only take one servant on the road?" Durand replied lightly: "I have something important to rush to Suceava, and I am in a hurry, so I didn't bring many followers." ”

Suceava is the capital of the principality of Moldova, and most people go around the Danube River valley to go up the river, and it is indeed a shortcut to cross the Carpathian Mountains, but it is difficult to walk, and the travelers are rarely visited. Longconi has been mixed with the business sea for a long time, and his eyes are so sharp, seeing that Durand seems to have some scruples in his words, he no longer asks deeply, and opens the topic: "This road can save a few days of footsteps, but there are no towns and villages along the way." In particular, this section of the road is the most desolate, and there are no people for dozens of miles. If you don't mind, it is better to deign to send a night under this tree with us, and the Ming Dynasty will go on the road together than through the mountains at night; ”

These words were sleek and decent, and Viscount Durand hesitated for a moment and nodded in agreement. Ronconi was overjoyed, and beckoned the servants to take Bronold and lead two mounts to the neighborhood to feed the forage, and led Durand to the front of the tent himself.

Merchants bring out freshly roasted lamb, which is roasted in an excellent way, charred on the outside and tender on the inside, and full of aroma. After walking all day, Dulittle was already hungry, and he couldn't help but move his index finger, so he was not polite, took out a dagger from his arms, sat cross-legged, and cut and snorted. Ronconi poured a glass of wine and handed it respectfully.

Although people who travel abroad are unknown, they are often the most likely to develop closeness because of their similar circumstances. After a few glasses of wine, the two Durand masters and servants and this group of Venetian merchants were already drunk and had nothing to say. Colony talked about the customs and customs of various places, and he talked about the war in Western Europe.

Suddenly, a person asked: "England and France have been fighting for nearly a hundred years, since the lord is French, I don't know when this war will end?" Longconi was already a little drunk, and when he saw that he avoided answering the political situation, he had the heart to act as a substitute, and said loudly: "The British and French feuds will take revenge." How do you know that last year Henry V had already broken through several castles in Caen, Bayeux, and Falaise, and this year the Grand Cité of Rouen had also surrendered, and most of Normandy had fallen under the British crown. The King of France, who has been infected with noble brains, is still in Paris, how can this grievance be persuaded?"

Because Durand is a French nobleman, it is Elonconi who has left a little bit of proportion in his mouth. At that time, the ruler of France was Charles VI, who suffered from a mad disease and was nicknamed "Mad Charles", and the whole country of France was supported by Queen Isabella.

One person patted his knees and sighed: "One is long, the other is long, the war is broken, so I still can't go to Western Europe, but it's a pity that my family has a few boxes of silk." Another man scoffed: "What a visionless little trader, only looking at this little profit, you see that the Genoese Roberny, hired a large number of crossbowmen to serve the Emperor, that is a big deal" At first, the man was a little annoyed, and looked sideways and said: "Yes, how mighty the Genoese crossbowmen are, Cressy, Poitier, Agencourt, which battle was not broken by the British and brought the lives of many lords." The list of names he mentioned are all famous wars between Britain and France for decades, all of which are legal people who have suffered great defeats and losses, and are known throughout Europe.

Ronconi narrowed his eyes, lowered his voice, and said, "If you want to say that this Queen Isabella is also a strange woman. The two were about to argue, but when they saw the mystery of what Longconi said, they quickly shut up. Loncony waved his hand and said, "France has two major gates, one is the Burgundian faction and the other is the Armagnac faction of Orleans. Both factions are ambitious and at loggerheads. The suzerains of both factions coveted Queen Isabella's beauty and competed with each other to pay their respects. Unexpectedly, the great suzerain of the Armagnacs, Louis, Duke of Orleans, was suddenly assassinated eight years ago, and France fell into a situation of civil strife when he arrived. ”

Others couldn't help but ask: "Could it be the Burgundian faction?" Lonconi sneered: "That's natural, there are many talented people under the command of the Burgundian faction, and there is no shortage of good fighters who are proficient in technical attacks. It was only because John, Duke of Burgundian, heard rumors that the crown prince was born of Queen Isabella and the Duke of Orleans, and he was jealous, and he was the killer. When everyone heard this, they all said "Ah". Lonconi added: "It was all thanks to Queen Isabella's efforts that the French kingdom could barely be maintained. But how could the Armagnacs suffer such a loss? It was very last month that a masked man attacked the chariot of John, Duke of Burgunia, on the bridge of Montero, and killed John in full view of the public, and then walked away. Although no one knows who the real culprit is, who is responsible for this matter is as clear as a nail on the board. ”

One said: "That killer is really good, he can advance and retreat freely, and the guards next to him are like decorations." Ronconi took a sip of wine and said disdainfully: "What is this, I have heard from the monks from Rome that the Armagnacs also secretly nurture witches and evil spirits, and if there are nobles who refuse to obey, they will be cursed to death by their evil laws." ”

By this time the night had fallen, and when the people listened to Ronconi's words, they felt a cold wind and a chill all over their bodies, as if the evil witches of the Armagnacs were peering in the darkness, and the tent fell silent for a moment. Lonconi laughed: "These are just ridiculous arguments in the market, you don't need to be so nervous. As soon as John died, his successor, Philip the Good Man, took the land of Burgundian and threw himself into England. This French state affair, tsk......"

One person smiled: "It can be seen that Queen Isabella is famous, not inferior to Cleopatra in Egypt." Another said: "No wonder the Armagnacs are in support of the Dauphin, and this is all made up by Louis, Duke of Orleans, and the queen." ”

Everyone burst into laughter, so the topic changed to some anecdotes and royal scandals, and the atmosphere was rekindled.

Durand listened quietly but didn't say a word. Everyone talked about the princess's privacy, and his tone became more and more presumptuous, he frowned slightly, and did not want to listen, so he took the wine glass, got up and walked to the edge of the cliff to look around. As far as he could see, there was a deep twilight, and the mountains were faintly imposing.

He stumbled upon a glimpse of the valley in the distance, and was startled, and immediately turned back to the tree. As Ronconi was spitting, he suddenly felt a chill in his neck, and a long sword had pressed against him. He was shocked and inexplicable, and when he turned around, he saw Durand's face gloomy, and he panicked: "Sir, what are you doing?" Doolittle sneered, "I just said that you are a generous elder, but it turns out that you are an old man full of lies!" Ronconi trembled and said, "How did I deceive the lord?"

Durand pointed into the distance: "You just said that there are no residents within dozens of miles here, what is that?" Everyone looked with his fingers, and saw a huge black shadow towering on the waist of the mountain in the distance, just at this time the moonlight revealed thin clouds, and the soft light sprinkled down, like a magnificent castle.

Ronconi stumbled and said, "Sir, you have wronged the old man." Durand said coldly: "What else do you have to say?" Ronconi said: "It's not that I have the intention to deceive the lord, it's that the castle has been abandoned for a long time, and it has long been out of people." Durand saw that there was no spark in the castle, so he believed Lonconi a few times, and asked: "That castle is only a mountain away from here, why would you rather camp under the trees than stay there? The castle is called Transylvania, and it is known far and wide, and it is one of the most evil places in this place. Legend has it that there was a duke who specialized in torturing and piercing infidels, and his methods were cruel and cruel, and after his death, he was not tolerated by God, so he turned into a demon and harmed the world. The castle was his old residence, and idlers would not dare to approach it. There are no people in this radius of dozens of miles, which is precisely because of this castle. ”

Durand said disdainfully: "Such absurd statements, will you believe them?" Ronconi hurriedly laughed: "The lord is a nobleman, so he is naturally not afraid." I'm a mortal, I'd rather believe in it than in it. In the past few years, there have been occasional unwitting passers-by who have strayed into the castle and are already insane when they come out. There are also people who hear the sound of miserable howls coming from the castle from afar, it is extremely evil, who dares to go?"

Viscount Durand was aroused by Ronconi's words, and he shuddered, swung his sword away from the old merchant's neck, retracted it into its sheath, and said, "I don't believe what you said. I'm going to explore this vampire castle today and see what is real!" Ronconi exclaimed, "How can you take your life as a child's play?"

Durand ignored him, tightened his belt, turned around and walked out of the camp with his long sword, called Bronold to lead his horse, and said to him: "The little old man said that the castle is haunted, let's go and see." To put it mildly, Bronold only replied, and there was nothing difficult about it, as if the master was talking about something ordinary.

Ronconi and a group of merchants hurriedly rushed out of the camp, Ronconi raised his hands high, and shouted: "The devil is beyond human power, please think twice!" The two had already turned over and got on their horses, Durand laughed, and drew a cross on his chest, and said in a loud voice: "I have righteous thoughts in my heart, God blesses, how can the ghost be close!" Ronconi sighed and went back to the camp with the merchants.

It is said that the master and servant of Durand looked at the castle all the way, and at this time, the night deepened and deepened, the fog rose, and the four sides were gradually engulfed by white gas, and there was only the chirping of night owls in their ears, and the wind and waves of the mountains. When they reached the steep place, the horses could not walk, so the two had to dismount and hold the bridles and walk slowly along the mountain. As the Polish proverb goes, "Look at the mountains and run dead horses", the castle seems to be close at hand, and the walk takes about two hours but there is no end in sight.

Bronold suddenly stopped, bent down and picked up some soil on the ground to look at it, then separated the weeds and pressed them with his palms, and got up again and said happily: "Master, I have found it." Durand said, "What did you find?" Brownold pointed to the weeds, and there was a hard trace: "This must be the old road to the castle, but because there is no one for a long time, it is covered by weeds and rubble." ”

With the guidance of the old way, the journey of the two people was greatly accelerated. It was close to midnight when they finally reached the castle. The moonlight is hazy, the silver is pouring out, this castle is located on a raised hill in the middle of the mountain, the rocks are craggy in all directions, and the city body stands on the side of thousands of feet, which is more and more upright. The castle body is purely made of large blue bricks and stones, the joints are dense, the structure is fine, although it has been abandoned, but it is decadent and does not fall, only a little more moss wind erosion mottled traces.

Durand has a glimpse of architecture. In the center of the castle stands a square main tower, surrounded by six stone curtain walls, and the periphery is semicircular, with four round towers and arrow towers. The outer circle and the inner square are exactly the Byzantine style, at least one hundred and fifty years old. There is still a circle of cover walls outside the main tower, which is concentric and slightly higher than the outer wall, and the top battlements are continuous, and there are almost no dead ends. Durand couldn't help but marvel at the ambition of the castle designer, this place is guarded by the mountains, condescending, entering the mountains and the main roads, retreating can stick to the prison, is the shape of the victory, as if it is the bearing of a monarch of a country, and those who do not have large hills and ravines in their chests cannot set it.

The whole castle is silent, and the windows outside are all pitch black, crawling with green vines, and there is no trace of popularity. The moat around the castle is only a remnant ditch, and the front gate is about a few feet high, and it is still in a hanging state. Durand stepped forward and reached out to touch it, the door panel was already a little rotten, and the chains were rusty, and it seemed that it had not been opened for a long time.

Just then, Bronold said hello, and Durand followed the prestige and saw a small door on the side of the castle. The door, which was supposed to have been used by the castle servants to transport goods, was closed, but the lower half was missing, leaving a dark gap leading to the city. Brownold said: "The indentation of the grass under the door is still fresh, and I think that there are some small animals that often come in and out from here, and use this place as a nest." ”

Durand laughed: "Maybe it's these animals that make passers-by spread the word." Bronold walked to the door, put his palms on the door, and with a slight luck, he suddenly pushed, and the door panel flew away. The strength of the palm is really terrifying.

Without hesitation, the two stepped into the castle. Bronold took out the flint and lit a torch, which turned out to be the kitchen of the castle in Transvania. The kitchen was empty, except for a few half-broken clay pots lying crookedly on the partitions, whether they had been taken away from the castle or stolen by someone later.

They walked down a long corridor outside the kitchen, past the blacksmith's shop, the warehouse, and the cattle pen, all abandoned and unremarkable. At last they entered the courtyard of the castle atrium, and saw dead trees and broken branches everywhere, and a flagpole with a broken pole hanging on the ground, so that it was not desolate. Durand walked with his hands in his hands and sighed: "To push the glorious scenery of the day, it should be a good garden." It can be seen that the bard often says that the good times are not long, and the years are not eternal. ”

He walked to the door of the main tower, and when he pushed it, the door clicked open, and it turned out that he had not been bolted. Bronold took the fire around and lit a few sticks and inserted them all over the hall to get a full picture. Duland's spirits couldn't help but perk, this main hall is dozens of steps wide, with a stone dome, which is very exquisite. In the middle of the hall there is a long table, the tablecloth of the dining chairs is still there, but it is covered with dust, on the top of the candlestick, half of the candle has not yet burned out, and there are twelve shield-shaped windows under the hall, which are mosaic with various stories, mostly for hunting. The curtains are as worn as spider's webs, but you can still see the luxury of the past. Compared with the chaos of leaving in a hurry outside the tower, everything in the hall was orderly and orderly.

A gust of mountain wind blew in from the shield window outside the hall, and the firelight swayed, making people shudder. Durand felt that something was wrong, and he looked closely, and was surprised to see that there seemed to be a person sitting on the high-backed chair at the end of the long table, but the light was too dark to see his face. Durand was a bold and bold man, although he was frightened, he was not timid, and he stepped forward with a torch. Sitting on the chair was a skeleton wearing a noble lady's pleated dress!

The skeleton was dressed like a woman, sitting upright in a chair with her hands on her lap in a serene posture. His clothes were in tatters, and he was probably dead for a long time. Durand stared at her for a long time, sighing. This skeleton is well-proportioned, and when he was alive, he was a beautiful red pink, but once he became a skeleton, and there was no one to bury him after his death, so he had to sit alone in this ancient castle, not knowing what story was hidden behind him.

Durand thought to himself, "If it weren't for my whim, I wouldn't have known that there were such pink bones in the castle." It can be seen that it is the will of heaven to meet her, how can I ignore it?" He was a knight and decided to rebury the corpse of this meeting in Pingshui, erect a wordless monument, and let her soul ascend to heaven as soon as possible. He searched around for any relics left to prove his identity, even if it was a name. He looked up at the wall of the hall, where there was a portrait, but it had been torn by the sharp claws of unknown things, leaving five huge claw marks on the painting, and it was only obvious that it seemed to be a portrait. The castle is full of mysteries and is difficult to understand.

Bronold rushed over, waving a book in his hand, and exclaimed, "Master, what do you see I've found?" Durand took the book and found it heavy, with a blood-red cover and illegible handwriting.

Before I could take a closer look, a sharp laugh suddenly broke through the air, and it looked very strange in the empty hall. Durand and Bronold's color suddenly changed, put down the red book, and each pulled out his weapon. The laughter flickered and flickered, but it never stopped, it seemed to come from all directions, but it was clearly from a human voice.

Bronold shook his mace and stared around the dome: "Master, is what the merchant said true?" Durand said in a deep voice, "Anyway, Hugh is bewitched by it!" He raised his sword and shouted, "I am Viscount Durand of Franche-Comté, what a demon, report your name!" The laughter suddenly stopped, and the silence fell again.

Durand lost a look, and Brownold understood, carrying a mace and bowing his body, and disappeared into the darkness. With a sword in one hand and a torch in the other, Durand walked and stopped in the hall, turning from time to time and walking in a circle.

The laughter began again, this time hoarse and gloomy, like a terminally ill and dying old man. Durand recited "Hallelujah" several times in his heart, and his mind was clear, not bewildered by laughter. He spun around a few more times, and the laughter rang out three times, but this time it was like a reckless man, and his voice was so rough that his eardrums buzzed.

Durand listened intently, and the laughter was about to subside, he suddenly opened his eyes, picked up a wooden chair next to him with his foot, and flew towards a corner. The wooden chair had long since decayed, and it had smashed into a pile of debris when it hit the stone wall. It was too late, it was too fast, and at the moment when the chair hit the wall, a black shadow flew out from the corner and rushed straight at Duland.

Durand did not dodge or dodge, with a smile on the corner of his mouth. Seeing the dark shadow rushing closer, Bronold suddenly burst out of the darkness from the side. The black shadow obviously didn't expect that there was still an ambush, and he couldn't change his momentum in the air, so he had to twist his waist sharply and turn to the right. Brownold refused to let go, his wrist flicked, and the mace had already beckoned over with the wind. The black shadow just touched the ground with both feet, and it was a high jump, a few rabbit ups and downs, a little far away, and his body was extremely fast, which was able to avoid Brownold's attack.

Durand saw that Brownold almost succeeded in a move, and his heart was settled. If it is a ghost and the like, how can it be forced to be so embarrassed by a mere knight, after all, it is still a person, as long as it is a human being, there is nothing to be afraid of. Durand's heart turned to electricity, and the long sword had quietly made a move, and a silver streamer was drawn in the darkness, approaching the black shadow.

Durand learned from a famous master, his swordsmanship is upright, and he has a great degree of law, and as soon as he makes a move, he shrouds the black shadow between the blades of the sword. His move "Xu De Del Swallow" only had one blow, but the tip of the sword pointed at the nine key points of the human body at the same time, and the enemy had no way to avoid it, so he could only retreat quickly, and suddenly lost the opportunity. The black shadow seemed to be unaware of the stakes of this greeting, and did not dodge or dodge, and went forward. The tip of Duland's sword flickered, and he was about to stab, when the black shadow let out a long roar, flipped his heel in mid-air with great dexterity, slid along the side of the sword, jumped over Duland's shoulder, and fled towards the window in the opposite direction.

At this time, Bronold also arrived to join the battle group, and when he saw that his master's move failed, he couldn't help but be furious, and he flicked a small hammer to force the black shadow. Seeing that the retreat was blocked, the black shadow returned to the center hall with a backflip, and Duland's second move had already been cast.

The master and servant each showed their unique knowledge, and formed an impenetrable net with a sword and a hammer. The black shadow rushes left and right in the net, his movements are completely disorganized and unreasonable, but he can always dodge a killer blow at an unbelievable angle, which is unpredictable. Of course, he couldn't escape the siege of the master and servant, and the two couldn't help him for a while. For a while, the figures in the hall shook and cheered, I am afraid that it has not been so lively in more than a hundred years.

Durand originally wanted to keep a slow hand and didn't want to kill recklessly, but now that he can't attack for a long time, he has to use the killer. His wrist flipped diagonally, and his long sword suddenly changed its move, and with a "Holy Capital Remote Finger", he stabbed at the black shadow door.

This is the starting style of the cross sword technique, which means Jerusalem, the sword is sad and majestic, and there is a great determination not to take the holy capital and not to return it. Beginning during the Crusades, the "Crucifixion" was a technique derived from the Crusaders' hand-to-hand combat with the Turks and Arabs.

The Templars had been exterminated by Emperor Philip IV more than 100 years ago, but this set of cross swordsmanship has been passed down to this day, and has always been regarded as a compulsory course for knights, and there are no less than 100,000 people in Europe, but few people are as angry as Durand. The black shadow only felt that the monstrous momentum was surging, more than several times stronger than just now, and he wanted to repeat the old trick and retreat with a ghostly body. Unexpectedly, the cross sword technique is known for its rigorous and concise practice, and one move seizes the opportunity, and the latter moves are endless, leaving no gaps.

Johannes Richardner, a great swordsman in Germany, once said: "Fighting is like learning to dance, with rhythm as the key, those who follow will always win, and those who chaos will always lose." "No matter how the enemy attacked just now, the black shadow only dodged according to his own body, but now he was interrupted by Duland's move, his breathing was immediately difficult, his chest couldn't help but suffocate, his limbs were struggling to breathe, and he was confused.

Brownold was willing to let go of this opportunity, the little hammer slipped to the back of the black shadow's head, grabbed his fleeting flaw and smashed it, and with a "bang", the black shadow fell to the ground in response. Durand stepped forward, his sword flashing and striking the dark shadow's chest in an instant. With a small inch, you can pierce the heart.

"Bring the fire!"

Durand shouted, and Bronold hurriedly fetched the torch from the side, eager to see where this black shadow was sacred. As the firelight approached, the two couldn't help but look at each other, it turned out that this black shadow was only a half-grown child, and he looked twelve or thirteen years old. The boy was covered with mud, very thin, with long, unkempt hair, indistinguishable from male or female, and large eyes full of fear.

Rao is Durand is well-informed, and he doesn't know what to do all of a sudden. Bronold untied the rope from his waist and said, "Master, tie him up first, lest he run away again." Durand let out a "hmm" and withdrew his sword, and Bronold turned the boy over, tied his hands and feet with ropes, and put two more lines around his shoulders from under his armpits to make sure that he let go.

The child did not resist when he was tied up, his eyes were full of tears, and he bit his lip tightly, thinking that the hammer of Brownold just now was really painful. Durand felt a little unbearable, half-squatted down, and asked softly in Italian, "What's your name?"

The child's lips pursed, unresponsive to the question, his withered body trembled, and it was hard to imagine that he was the black shadow with the unpredictable body just now. Durand looked closely, the child was almost naked, his hands and feet were covered with thick calluses, and only between his legs was a circle of bald and faded dirty cloth, which exuded a foul smell, and at first glance he knew that it was worn and worn out on his body, and he was afraid that he had never taken it off.

The only ornament on his body was a short emerald green whistle that hung around his neck. Durand gently took the whistle, which was made of green bamboo, new green and thin, with an iris carved on it, and the workmanship was quite fine. He brought the whistle to his mouth and blew it a few times, but he couldn't do anything but make a shriveling sound of puff and leakage.

The child suddenly opened his mouth and screamed twice. Durand frowned slightly, thinking that this child must be a mute, and seeing that his eyes were eager, staring at the whistle, his heart moved, and he stuffed the whistle into the child's mouth. When the child received the whistle, as if he had been pardoned, he forgot that he was bound and blew it away. The sound of the whistle rises and falls, and it turns back and forth, changing in a myriad of ways. Only then did the two of them know that the three strange laughter just now all came from this whistle.

Brownold sat down beside him and sighed, "I used to whistle in the mountains when I was young, but I have never heard so much timbre. Durand put the sword back into its sheath, and noticed that the child's eyes flowed, as if echoing the sound of the whistle, and wondered: "Could it be that he wants to use the sound of the whistle to talk to me?"

The whistle seemed to peek into his thoughts, and turned into joy. Durand smiled, a wave of pity hit his heart, and he couldn't help but reach out and touch the child's greasy hair. The whistle suddenly changed its tone, and the cut was short, like a puppy in the litter, waiting to be fed. Strange to say, Durand felt that he was very close to this child, and he understood the meaning of it as soon as he heard it. He asked Brownold to take out a piece of unleavened bread and a spoonful of honey from his bag, and dipped the bread in honey and fed it to the child.

The wild child was obviously hungry, and as soon as he ate the bread, he swallowed it impatiently, and his mouth snapped, and he almost choked on a few occasions. Durand held a leather bag full of water in his own hand and poured him a mouthful from time to time. In less than a candle time, he had eaten three unleavened breads like a whirlwind, and only then did he roll a full burp from his throat with satisfaction, and blow a lazy and satisfied tune from his whistle.

Durand patted the crumbs off the child's chest and said to Brownold, "Untie the rope for him." Durand glanced at the meek wild child and sighed, "This kid is not harmless, but he is just innocent and thinks we are just playing with him." You see the confrontation just now, he just dodged, but he didn't have half a murderous aura. ”

Bronold stepped forward to untie the rope, and at the same time secretly raised his breath to prevent him from escaping. Unexpectedly, the child rubbed his wrist, tilted his head and leaned on Duland's thigh, and fell asleep, still licking the honey stains on his lips.

Durand couldn't bear to pull his thighs away, so he let him sleep soundly on his lap. The child slept peacefully and quietly, like an angel, and Durand was unconsciously moved, and wondered whose parents were so patient to abandon such a young child in this gloomy castle, and could not help but draw a cross on his chest, looked up at the dome and sighed: "God is merciful, could it be that this is your revelation to me? ”

Unexpectedly, when the child heard this, he suddenly opened his eyes and spoke in French: "Segolena." Hearing this, Durand's body trembled, and he hurriedly lifted his shoulders and said, "What did you say?" The child added: "Segolena." ”

Brownold is Portuguese, and usually Durand talks to him in Italian or Catalan. He was alone in a room, his heart was agitated, and he naturally spoke his native language, but he didn't expect it to lead to the child's reaction. Durand thought secretly: "When I talk to Brownold, he is indifferent. Why did this kid respond as soon as I spoke French?

So Durand tried to ask in French, "What's your name?" and the child replied, "Segolene." Dall asked, "Where are your parents now?" and the child replied, "Segolena." If so, four or five, the child will only answer with the word "Segolena". In this way, he will only repeat a word, and may not know its meaning. Durad also noticed that every time he spoke in French, the child's eyes welled up with infinite attachment, as if he was babbling in his mother's arms, and it seemed that he had a special affection for French.

It happened that Brownold took care of the horses and returned to the hall, Durand told him what he had just discovered, Brownold wondered: "Could it be that someone taught him?" Durand got up and walked around the hall a few times, sighing: "According to my inference, this child has grown up in this castle since he was a child, and I don't know what happened, the adults either left or died, and he was the only one left here who was struggling to survive, and he can survive to this day, which can only be said to be God's grace." I suspect that someone took care of him as an infant and spoke French, so although he was ignorant, he naturally became close to the French language. I just don't know why he just repeats the word 'Segolena', and this strange body method, I don't know who I learned it, it's really hard to understand. ”

He walked up to the skeleton again and said, "Maybe this corpse is the child's mother, who unfortunately died, leaving behind this hard-working baby and living beside his mother's corpse for so many years." Suddenly I thought of this woman with myself or my fellow villagers, and when I thought of this, my heart was filled with pity. Brownold showed a sad look on his face early on the side, his eyes were full of tears, and he suddenly knelt on the ground and said: "If you don't want it, master, please allow me to adopt this child, and be a companion." He was accepted as a hunter in the mountains, but he was over forty years old, still single, and he lacked a companion by his side.

Durand didn't say anything, he bowed deeply to the bones, and said loudly: "This nameless lady, although you and I have never known each other, since I have met this son, it is God's will. I swear by the sword in my hand and the reputation of a knight that I will raise this son well, and will not teach him to live in this castle for the rest of his life. You have a spirit in heaven, and you must protect Linglang, may the Lord bless you, Amen. ”

Bronold rejoiced: "The master has taken him as a righteous son, and he is more blessed than following me as a poor man." Durand and Bronold fell to their knees at the same time, crossed their hands, and muttered prayers. When the prayer was over, the two of them got up and searched the castle again, but there was no clue about the owner of the castle except the ancient book, not even half of the coat of arms. Brown Nold picked up the child, went to a well in the backyard to wash it carefully, took a razor from his bag, shaved off all his long hair, and turned out a set of old clothes that he had changed with a needle and thread, and put it on for him.

Taking advantage of this free time, Durand flipped through the ancient books. The book is written in Latin, and the words are so dense that they dazzle the reader. Durand only knew a little about Latin, and the difficulty of writing this writing was mostly about theology. Durand believed in God, but he was quite disgusted with the Holy See, and when he saw that there were no bookmarks and pages in the book, he was not interested, so he put it back in his bag, thinking that this was also a relic of the castle, and he had the right to keep it, and it would be better to make a memorial when the child grew up.

Just as he was thinking, Bronold and the boy had packed up and returned to the hall. Durand looked up, his eyebrows furrowed,

Unexpectedly, after the child had washed off the dirt, he was born with a delicate and slender body, golden hair, and although his face was vegetable, he had a different kind of noble temperament, especially his deep blue eyes, which were as deep and unfathomable as the heart of the lake of St. Andrew.

Brownold pushed him in front of Doolittle and grinned, "I didn't expect it to be a beautiful young master." Doolittle shook his head repeatedly, and his heart was also extremely happy. This child may be a descendant of the owner of the castle, and he can have such a look and bearing, and it seems that he has an extraordinary bloodline. He pulled the child in front of him, patted his little head lovingly, and said solemnly: "From this day forward, you will be called Segolena." ”

The child seemed to understand his words, and cried out, "Segolena, Segolena!" and the whistle hanging around his neck flew out of the castle with a crisp sound of joy.

When it was dawn, Durand and Bronold worked together to bury the woman's body on a hillside next to the castle and find a wooden plank to use as a tombstone. Durand wrote with a sword, engraved the words "Tomb of the Unknown Lady" on the wooden plaque, and picked some wildflowers to offer. Then the two of them took Segolena and walked down the mountain along the old road, turning seven and eight turns, and after walking for a few miles, they could no longer see the ancient castle when they looked back, but they saw that the mountains were hidden and the valley was empty.

At this time, it was almost early in the morning, the morning light was faint, and the sky turned from gray to light blue, which was a sunny day. Segolena was wild and untamable, jumping up and down all the way, without stopping, the whistle was brisk and brisk, and poor Bronold chased after him panting. Durand laughed, thinking that he had to teach the kid to walk first, but fortunately he was not old enough to be corrected.

As they walked back to the avenue, they came across Lonconi's caravan. Durand told him a little about what happened last night, and Longconi and the others looked around Segolena and were amazed to see that he was handsome but behaved like a wild ape. As he spoke, Segolena jumped on top of Ronconi's head, grabbed a few strands of hair, spun around three times, and jumped back to Bronno. Ronconi scratched the top of his head as if he was self-deprecating: "The little old man sees that he can't protect an inch, so the virtuous son doesn't have to worry about it." The crowd was shocked at first, and they all burst out laughing at Ronconi's words.

Ronconi consulted with the merchants, took out a few boxes, and turned to Durand and said, "The lord is really a hero, the heart of the Virgin, and we all admire it tightly." Since the lord has newly received his son, we have nothing to give, here are two strings of pearls, a cow leather hood, a black feather cape, a set of brocade clothes, and a steel short sword made in Milan. Durand was overjoyed, and did not refuse, and ordered Brownold to accept it and let Segolena change his clothes, but the short sword did not dare to give it to him for a while.

They walked with the brigade on the road, and walked through the mountains for several more days, and along the way Durand was carefully controlled, and Segolena behaved better than before, and although his speech was inarticulate, he could already pronounce some muffled syllables. However, he prefers to express his emotions in a whistle, which is a pity that only Durand can understand. Fortunately, the whistle is beautiful and simple, better than the sound of a bard's piano, everyone listens to it relaxedly, and the fatigue along the way can be forgotten a little, and after a few days, everyone has a little more love for this child.

On this day, the team finally saw the eastern foot of the Carpathian Pass, a hill stretching into the distance, and as far as the eye could see, the Prut River was like a blue jade belt, wandering away. Seeing that they walked out of the mountains and into the plains, no longer suffering from the wind and food and sleeping in the open, everyone was radiant and in a very different mood.

Segolena rode with Bronold, looking left and right, and he had never left the mountains in his life, when he suddenly came to the plains, and felt a new feeling, and from time to time he pointed to an unknown place and shouted, and uttered a series of strange pronunciations. These days, Durand spoke only French to him, Bronno Dega muttered Catalan on horseback, and Ronconi and the Venetian dialect of the others were not shy from others, so that he learned three languages and became a strange family of his own. Durand had planned to teach him pure French, and seeing this kind of scene was angry, funny, but helpless.

At this time, Durand looked east with his hands on the pergola, his expression was neither happy nor angry, and he didn't know what to think in his heart. Ronconi drove his horse to his side, leaned slightly and said, "Sir, we are going to Muscovy, and after crossing the river, we have to part with you in front." Durand was stunned, then came to his senses. The Muscovy was in the northeast, but the Suchava they were going to was in the southeast, and they had to go along the Prut River, so they saluted with their hands: "Thank you for taking care of me all the way." ”

Longconi said again: "Does the lord know that Murad II of the Ottoman is using troops against Byzantium, and the principality of Moldova is close to the Black Sea, which can be said to be dangerous. Durand said lightly: "I went to visit my old friends, but I have nothing to do with their sultan. After speaking, he held the hilt of the sword, and his eyes suddenly became sharp. Ronconi originally wanted to invite him to go north with him, but when he saw that he was stubborn, he didn't say anything more.

The caravan traveled more than twenty miles and came to a small village called Philania on the upper reaches of the Plute River. This is the territory of the Principality of Wallachia, and they have been trekking in the mountains for more than ten days in a row, and they are already tired and in need of rest. Lonconi had traveled this trade route many times, and knew that there was a ferry nearby, so he persuaded Durand to rest in the village for the night, and then cross the river north the next day.

As soon as they entered the village, everyone immediately felt a little strange. At this time, it is past noon, which is the busiest and lively time of the day, and the barking of dogs and chickens should be heard from a distance in ordinary villages, but the village in front of them is silent, and there is not even a wisp of cooking smoke. Durand ordered the crowd to slow down, and Brownold, afraid of Segolener's running around, tied him to the horse, and took the whistle away.

Segolena lost his freedom, and without a whistle, he writhed around on horseback, screaming. Brownold was helpless, and stuffed a piece of rye bread into his mouth, and then quieted down.

As the procession marched to the village square, Ronconi looked around with a sad face and said to Durand: "Today's events are a little strange, and it is usually the most lively time of the year when the harvest festival is close to this time. The square is lit up and very lively. Durand said: "Don't be careless, you let the pack animals be decorated, and if there is a situation, the rear team will become the front team, and quickly withdraw from the village." ”

Before he could finish speaking, a long horn suddenly sounded, and dozens of big men emerged from the walls of the surrounding houses. These big men had hideous faces, white scarves on their heads, were dressed in cooked cowhide armor, and carried various weapons in their hands, and they surrounded the caravan at once. Longconi secretly screamed: "Oops, it's the Ukir thieves...... "The Ukir people were originally a mountainous people in the southeastern mountains of the Carpathians, belonging to a branch of the Hungarians, ruthless by nature, capable of conquest and habitual warfare, living by plundering caravans, and even lone armies did not let go, neither the Turks nor the Hungarians could help them. It's just that they only spend their days in the mountains, and this time they came to the village of the Moravian plain for some reason.

When everyone heard that it was the name of the Ukir thief, they were all shocked. These thieves shouted together at the right time, knocked their shields with their weapons, and the sound of "dong dong" was deafening. The timid ones in the caravan almost fell off their horses, and the bold ones were like ashes. It is said that the Ukir thieves have never survived, and it seems that the villagers of this village have been poisoned, and it is their turn to be next. With only a few guards in the caravan, these bandits can't be defeated.

Ronconi plucked up his courage and jumped off his horse and said in Turkish: "I don't know who is the king, please come and meet me." The thieves stopped shouting, and a bald man with a body of two feet jumped down from the wall, and the ground shook slightly. The man's muscles were coiled, his back was bearish, and he had two battle axes stuck in his back. An ordinary warrior can play a battle axe with both hands can be called a good arm strength, but he actually carries two handles on his back, and his steps are still steady, which shows that he is extremely fierce.

The king shook off his huge hand, gently pinched Ronconi's head, and his voice was full of anger: "We are King Alpad, what kind of fart do you have to this old thing, let it go quickly!" Ronconi was already sweating like rain, and he barely cheered up and said: "King, you just want to be rich, we just want peace." Why don't I give you half of the goods and the brothers, and put them away?" King Alpad laughed: "Let your mother's dayfart go, let's crush you now, won't the goods be ours? Ronconi smelled the stench in his mouth and was dizzy, but he didn't dare to hide. The Ukir thieves laughed together, staring at the merchants, like the chicks and suckling pigs on the plate, laughing so hard that everyone's hearts were furious, and they were all terrified when they thought of the rumors that the Ukir people were addicted to human flesh.

Suddenly, there was a clear roar in the array: "Rats, do you dare to duel with me?" Although this roar was not sharp, it was clearly sent to the ears of everyone present, like a thunderbolt on a sunny day, shocking the audience. No one expected that there would be someone here who would dare to touch King Alpad's tiger whiskers, and all the bandits were furious, and they swept towards the caravan in unison, and saw a middle-aged man standing with a sword and eyebrows, it was Viscount Duland.

Durand knew that the Ukir people were martial and should not be ashamed of dueling. At present, the enemy is outnumbered, and only by using words to provoke the leader to fight alone can there be a glimmer of life. He pulled out his long sword, held the hilt of the sword with both hands and poked it into the ground hard, his eyes like lightning, like a griffin on the stream. Duan Deyuan stopped at Yuezhi. The thieves were taken by his spirit, and the audience was silent for a while.

King Alpad let go of Ronconi's head, wiped the saliva from his mouth, turned his fat body, looked Durand up and down, and asked, "What are you?" Durand said loudly: "I am Viscount Durand of Franche-Comté, and the family crest is here, do you dare to duel with a knight?" Bronold quickly unloaded the griffin flag behind his horse and stood behind Duland. Lonconi and the others knew that this was the only way to survive, and they didn't dare to speak, and watched with trepidation.

King Alpad touched his bald head, tilted his head and stared at Duland, and suddenly a crisp laugh came. It turned out that Segolena broke free from the binds while Brownold was unwinding the flag, squatted on the back of the horse, and laughed when he saw that the king had a shiny and shiny head. When King Alpad saw that the little baby did not know whether he was alive or dead, he was angry, his throat trembled, and with a "smack", a mouthful of thick phlegm broke out of the wind and rushed straight to the door of Segolena. On the side, Bronold saw that the situation was not good, so he didn't have time to pull out the mace and take off his hat to block it, only to feel a tremor in his hand, and his hat was bounced away by the castration of the thick phlegm, and fell a few steps away. It can be seen that the strength of King Alpad's internal strength is really incredible.

Durand was also shocked when he saw it, thinking that he could only outwit this kind of strange giant, and it was difficult to match. Unexpectedly, King Alpad suddenly said, "You are not worthy of fighting with us, such a lord." How many of you, who is going to send off the lord to the end?" The second half was said to his subordinates, and the crowd was noisy, and finally three men jumped out, holding three spinous maces, standing in a semicircle and surrounding Duland. Durand pointed at the halberd and said angrily: "You are a barbarian, you don't abide by the rules of knighthood, and you have no martial virtues! Aren't you afraid that the race will be disgraced?" King Alpad looked up to the sky and smiled: "What are the rules for robbery! There are many people, as long as you die!"

The three of them were already approaching while talking, Durand snorted coldly, pulled out the long sword from the ground, closed his eyes and prayed silently in his heart, and the spiritual platform was quiet. The three of them saw that his great enemy was currently closing his eyes, only to wait for death, and at the same time smashed down with an iron rod.

Durand heard the wind in his ears, and suddenly raised his eyes, and the long sword in his hand came out of the hole like a fire dragon, and stabbed the opponent on the far right in the chest. The man saw that Duran Defu had the intention of ending up together as soon as he made a move, and his heart was flustered, and the mace changed his move halfway and wanted to block. Unexpectedly, Durand retracted freely, his moves did not make him old at all, the sword peak was deflected, and he turned to attack the enemy in the middle, and at the same time, the whole person was short and lightly spinning, and his right leg was full of strength to pop out and kick the knee of the third person. The enemy in the middle tried to return the stick to protect him, but his movement was restricted by the change of his companion on the right, and the two maces "clattered" together, unable to move, while the third person was kicked solidly, screamed, and sprinted backwards.

Durand forced the three of them back with one move, and everyone on the lookers admired it, and even King Alpad couldn't help but bared his teeth. Everyone in the caravan didn't dare to say anything on the surface, but they applauded in their hearts. Segolena crouched on the horse's back, staring intently at Duland's movements, unaware that he had almost lost his life.

The three of them retreated, looked at each other, and at the same time screamed, and pounced again. Durand was not in a hurry, and the cross sword technique was unleashed one by one, slow at first, and then the battle became faster and faster, like the rising sun, becoming more and more dazzling. After a few rounds, the onlookers only felt that the battle group was shrouded in countless cross sword rays, and the sword qi hissed horizontally. The three of them secretly complained in their hearts, they were originally outnumbered, but now they feel that they are controlled everywhere, they want to retreat, they can't save them, and they seem to be alone against a group of enemies.

Under the siege of the three, Duland's movements are still steady and elegant, and he has the demeanor of a knight, showing the essence of the cross sword technique. This set of swordsmanship is the most rigorous, with very few flaws, and once it enters the rhythm, the opponent can't help but dance with his footwork. The three of them didn't seem to attack the enemy later, but more like they were panting and feeding Duland.

After more than ten rounds of fighting, Duland's body stagnated, and suddenly a flaw flashed. The three of them were overjoyed, and hurriedly raised the stick to pound it, but the place where the stick was smashed suddenly fell short, and they lost their balance all of a sudden, and almost fell. When he looked up again, Durand had already stood ten steps away, his expression extremely grim.

King Alpad said: "Sir, do you think you are going to lose, so you jumped out of the circle?" He said this to save some face for the three subordinates, but the situation of the right people was really bad, and even the thieves felt that this explanation was too reluctant, and no one should talk to the boss.

Durand stared at the three of them, pointed at the tip of his sword, and shouted in a deep voice: "Who are you?" King Alpad was stunned when he heard this, and patted his stomach: "Haven't you heard of Ukir's prestige?"

Durand sneered: "It is precisely because of the long eyes that I can see the horse's feet that you are hiding." Although these three are holding maces, their techniques are very different. If a person is accustomed to using any kind of weapon, it is difficult to change the old habit even if it is temporarily replaced. This one, with his shoulders high and unconsciously handing the tip of the stick forward, is obviously accustomed to using the giant Scottish sword; this one holds the stick too low, and has more stabs in his moves than smashing, and should be a master of using a Turkish scimitar; and this one, the mace is surrounded by spines, but you only use the top to attack the enemy, and you must be the descendant of the Teutonic mace. ”

When everyone saw him fighting a few times, they could peek through the details of the other party from the subtleties, and the weapon genre was casually broken, and they were all awe-inspiring, and secretly praised their eyesight. The three people in the audience looked at each other, and they didn't answer, and they didn't answer. Durand said again: "These three weapons are all sharp weapons in the army, and ordinary bandits have no way to start at all. You must not be a Ukir bandit, right?

The three of them were forced to ask by this, and they all lowered their heads, not daring to look at them. Seeing that his momentum was being killed by the knight, King Alpad shouted angrily: "Death is coming, and there will be noise!" Durand laughed: "I don't admit it, so I have to force it." "Spread your sword and attack.

This attack was like a thunderbolt, tough and incoherent, leaving no room for half a point. Only then did the three of them know that the opponent had not yet used all his strength, and they were attacked in a hurry, only to feel that the entire Alps were overpowered, and there was no way out.

was attacking to the end, but Durand suddenly retracted and stopped at once. The three of them were still ignorant, and they slashed at the air, extremely embarrassed. This time, even businessmen who don't understand martial arts can see that those three people were forced out of their own kung fu by Duland, which is tantamount to openly admitting that what Durand said is true.

When Longconi saw that Durand's martial arts were proficient, he was happy at first, and then thought about it carefully, this group of people was not Ukir bandits, and it must have another purpose for others to find out their true identity. In this way, perhaps the intention of this group of fake thieves is not to seek money, but to ...... Thinking of this, he couldn't help but glance at Bronold and the flag with the family coat of arms, and regretted walking with these two men with some regret.

King Alpad let out a loud roar, pulled out his twin axes from his back, and rushed into the circle. When all the minions saw the boss coming forward, they also rushed forward. Bronold slapped the saddle and motioned for Segolena to stay where he was, then raised his mace and leaped to Duland's side. The master and servant had their backs to their backs, and they were suddenly surrounded by a group of thieves.

Since Ronconi, all merchants have not changed their color. The square is a round shape, paved with gray and white gravel, and the size of a tree, surrounded by houses. In the siege of the group of thieves, the two had little room to return. King Alpad snorted heavily, and his originally thick Bulgarian accent suddenly changed to English French: "Sir, now that you are dead, it is better to obediently hand over the "Proverbs of the Two Snakes", and you can also leave your whole body and bury it according to the rules of knights." ”

Durand frowned, sure enough, these thieves came for "The Proverbs of the Two Snakes". He was not afraid of danger, held his sword in his chest, and said generously: "The knight takes the oath as his life, and I have sworn to protect this code until death!" These words were said loudly, and even the besieging thieves showed a little admiration. Bronold said angrily: "Bah, you articulate thief, just now you were a brute, and now you have become a dog, so despicable!" King Alpad's eyes shot a cold light, and the big axe in his hand was slashed, and the killing intent was great. Since he revealed his identity, he obviously won't let them live.

King Alpad said: "In this case, I will fulfill the wish of the lord, kill the lord first, and then take the proverb!" The words fell, and the giant axe suddenly slashed down. Durand had been on guard for a long time, and when he saw the enemy attacking, he did not resist, and his body twisted to the side with a swift momentum, and stabbed suddenly, and one of the thieves screamed miserably, and immediately fell to the ground, unable to get up for a while.

This shocking change was only in an instant, and before the enemy could come to his senses, Durand had already made a return move and took King Alpad directly. Capture the thief first to capture the king, now the thief is strong, only by urging the head of the enemy first, can there be a chance of victory. Bronold also let out a loud shout, dancing the mace like a windmill, fighting a dozen enemies to prevent them from getting close to Duland.

After a few sonorous collisions, King Alpad and Durand had already fought for three or four rounds in an instant, and they were secretly frightened by each other. With Duland's insight, he has long seen that this person is a first-class Viking. Originating from the bitter cold of the Far North, the Viking Stream martial arts are harsh and violent, unleashing them like a storm and snow, making them unique. The Viking Stream is best at two-handed battle axes, which are extremely powerful, and this King Alpad has changed from single to double, and his moves have become more flexible, but his destructive power is not inferior to that of two-handed axes, which is very rare. King Alpad also felt that the martial arts of this lord in front of him were profound, and it was not easy to match him.

The battle axe was so powerful that Durand didn't dare to block its edge with his long sword, but instead the sword spat out, pecking at the side of the big axe, making it deviate from the angle, and the axe blade suddenly staggered a few inches. Seeing that he had already swung the axe, he turned around and squatted half-squatting, and made a move of "drawing a sword in the stone" to pick the opponent's throat. This trick is taken from the allusion of King Arthur pulling out the holy sword in the stone, which has a heroic royal spirit and is extremely deterrent. Seeing the ferocity, King Alpad hurriedly took his left axe in his backhand, only to hear a "poof", and the tip of the sword pierced into the handle of the oak axe. It's really a thousand shots, if the sword move is a little early, or the right side is half an inch, the throat has been pierced.

Durand secretly screamed that it was a pity, King Alpad's chest was thumping, he had never been so dangerous against the enemy in his life. As soon as he thought of this, his anger grew, he was born with divine power, and he was even more stingy at this time, staggering and slashing with his two axes, all aimed at the vital points around his body. If Durand is not careful, he will be killed by the axe.

The two were holding each other, and Bronold suddenly snorted sullenly. Durand borrowed a move, looked sideways, and saw three or four people lying on the ground, obviously eliminated by Brownold's hot hand, at this time more than a dozen people surrounded him and attacked wildly, Brownold's hammer in his hand was staggered, and his right shoulder was already gushing blood.

Durand's distraction, the originally airtight sword circle slightly revealed a flaw. King Alpad sneered, and with both arms, the two axes were incomparable, and they slapped Durand in both ears. This move "two-headed snake", the double axe is divided into two places, and the offensive is both real and virtual, causing the opponent to not distinguish the direction and take care of one and lose the other.

Durand knew the stakes of this move, and saw that the double axe had already attacked the left and right, and with a wave of his long sword, it went straight to the middle hall of King Alpad, forcing him to return the move to defend himself, which was also the only way to crack this move. Unexpectedly, King Alpad ignored it, and his axes flew like a fly, and he had the heart to die together. At the critical moment, Durand leaned back, avoiding the double axe, and at the same time, the long sword turned into a slash, not changing the castration. King Alpad reacted very quickly, and when he saw that the pinch attack could not be achieved, he immediately abandoned the axe, and a pair of fleshy palms suddenly attacked, and slapped Durand on both shoulders with a bang.

The two of them shook their bodies and took five steps back. King Alpad's chest was marked with a very long sword mark, dripping with blood, and Durand's face was red with his sword in both hands, and after a while, a bloody arrow spurted out of his mouth with a pop, and in an instant the red faded away, leaving only white. King Alpad is in strong shape, and the long sword is not more than a few points into the body, but it is only a few skin injuries, but Durand has a lot of internal trauma, and the comparison between the two is obviously that he has suffered more.

King Alpad tore open the placket on both sides with a bang, revealing the knotted pectoral muscles, grabbed a handful of loess and smeared it on the wound to stop the bleeding, and said to Durand: "Sir, at this point, do you still have to resist stubbornly?" Durand pursed his lips tightly and did not answer, and stepped up his secret breathing, only to feel that the four liquids were burning and the five organs were displaced. King Alpad sneered, and no longer persuaded, waving his palm to attack again.

At this time, Durand had not yet adjusted his breath, and the four fluids in his body were boiling and could not be stopped. Hearing the palm wind in his ears, he couldn't help but feel sorry in his heart, his eyes closed slightly, and he just waited to be killed.

Suddenly, a whistle cut between the two. A black shadow crossed in front of King Alpad's eyes, and the sword light flashed, which was the standard "cross sword technique". He was taken aback, took a few steps back, and thought to himself, where did a knight master come from. Durand was also shocked, and when he looked closely, it was Segolena hiding behind the horse. The bag beside the horse was opened, and a scabbard was thrown on the ground.

I saw Segolena with a blue whistle, dressed in a short shirt, and holding a short sword given by Tironconi. At this time, the breeze was light, and his clothes were fluttering, and he turned out to be a handsome young man. King Alpad was slightly stunned, and exclaimed, "Who are you?!" Segolena puffed out his cheeks, but did not answer, and the whistle was first gentle, then three short. Only Durand can understand his whistle, Segolena is a child, he doesn't know what is at stake, he only sees Durand being bullied, and naturally wants to take revenge.

Before Durand could stop it, Segolena had already flown forward. As soon as the two took over, King Alpad suddenly felt strange. This red-haired young man seems to be noble, but the tricks he uses are completely disorderly, he obviously has a short sword in his hand, but he raises his arm and kicks his legs, as cunning as an ape, suddenly climbs high and roars, and suddenly rolls on the ground. This kind of random fight may not have any power, but the surprise and the strange speed of his body made King Alpad not know how to deal with it for a while.

Segolena attacked wildly for a while, and suddenly the monkey was exhausted, and he stabbed with his sword, like a good hand at cross-swordsmanship. Durand was surprised at first, but after a little observation, he was relieved. Segolena used all the tricks he had just used to engage the enemy, and he had learned a lot of moves and styles. On the one hand, he was delighted, thinking that this son could imitate Zhisi after a few glances, and he was really talented, but on the other hand, he couldn't help but worry: Segolena's swordsmanship was only in its form, and he had no internal strength at all, so how could he hide such a hard hand from King Alpad.

The situation was as expected, although King Alpad was not shocked, after a few moves, he saw through the reality of Segolena, and the two-headed snake came out again. Durand is still going to lose under this move, let alone the temporary cramming of Segolena. When he saw that the great axe was coming, he screamed, and when he abandoned his short sword, he threw himself in front of King Alpad, and with his hands and feet, he clung to his belt and clung to the leather armor, and climbed a few steps to the top of the bald head, holding it tightly and refusing to let go.

Seeing such a scoundrel play, King Alpad was angry and funny. With his free hand, he effortlessly grabbed Segolina's right leg and tugged hard. Segolena was pulled down, and his ten fingers scratched many bloody marks on the top of his head. King Alpad was so angry that he grabbed the boy's legs and threw them in the air, threatening to tear them apart.

Durand secretly complained, he had no heart to save people, and it was difficult to move a finger; Bronold was besieged by others, and he had no time to save himself; Ronconi and other businessmen had no power or courage to see a young man torn in half by a wicked man.

Segolenne's life hung by a thread, and suddenly a voice came out of the air: "My lord has mercy, Hallelujah." The sound of this trumpet was not high, but everyone present could hear it clearly, and the tone was peaceful and gentle, so that even King Alpad's heart was full of excitement when he heard it, and his anger was less, and his hands did not tear it down.