The convoy was somewhat quiet, presumably because of its proximity to the Chusanze River, and there were always some disturbing legends in the woods around it, not to mention the fact that something had happened before.

Nashin glanced around the left and right before turning back and untying the cowhide water bag from the pack horse's saddlebag, unplugging the stopper, looking up, and drinking the remaining water inside. He then frowned, the water tasted a little rancid, but he should be able to reach the banks of the Chusanze River before nightfall, and replenish it there, if nothing else.

He touched the animal's sturdy neck, grasped the harness with his hand, and stuffed the shriveled water bag back in. The pack horse snorted, an old horse, with more than twenty years of teeth, and the old man had been chewing grass under him since he was doing this job of pinning his head to the waistband of his trousers along the long border.

It was getting late, the already gray sky was covered with a layer of mist in the distance, a thin mist drifted in the woods, a few houses that had long been abandoned loomed in the corners, and above the light streamers, a few stars twinkled and dotted with a faint crimson on the horizon.

Nashin stared in that direction, where the sun had sun, was a land covered with the banner of the Black Rose, beyond the realm of the dead and a vast ocean, and supposedly a thriving human world.

It had been three days before the anomaly in the western skies, and the caravan had stopped at Tomro that night, and everyone was very drunk, only to learn from the local population the next morning. But he witnessed the golden raindrops falling from the sky and falling below the western horizon.

The scene reminded him of the disaster that had occurred in the old people's mouth seventy years earlier, when the stars had fallen from the sky, and it was not long before the 'weird' appeared, and they began to attack villages and towns in droves, and from that time on, the Rose Frontier began to be deserted. It gradually became a desert with no people.

Fortunately, if it weren't for that, and without the value of the blood-licking people of their bones, the outlaws in this no-man's land have flourished since the undead began to retreat westward.

Because both Rosalin and the Black Moon Lord need this fragile lifeline, and if the bone racks don't have a moment of eternal rest, they need all kinds of materials. Many people were smuggling corpses and bones, and the lords of Rosalin openly forbade such behavior, but who did not know that the Saleen border guards were the biggest smugglers.

It's a pity that this business is now going to be cut off.

Nasin looked at the withered villages in the forest, and was not surprised at all, there were too many such villages on the border of Rosalin, and in the past, under the infestation of the undead, humans were still able to survive and thrive in the forest, but the appearance of those things changed a little.

Now the inhabitants of this place have either moved back to the Sighing Wall of Rosalin, or have crossed the strait to Jiufeng as refugees. Or turn into a pile of bones.

The activities of the Strange Spirits have become more frequent, and the undead have retreated and retreated east of the Sea of the Dead Moon, and now that this fragile trade route has become longer and more dangerous, and fewer and fewer people have survived on it.

"Nasin." A middle-aged man rode up from behind, pacing his mount and slowing down beside Nasin. When the shadow covered Nasin, he raised his head to look at the comer, the man sitting on horseback with a stern face under his flat forehead. On both sides of the straight nose bridge, there are two sharp eyes that make people palpitate, and the vicissitudes of life in the eyes seem to hide a lot of stories. He looked weathered, but his exposed skin was well-maintained, and he didn't look like an outlaw rolling on the tip of a knife like them, and he looked like a pampered person.

Such men were usually nobles, or knights from the north of Rosalin, and Nasin looked at his warhorse—it was a real warhorse. Unlike a mixed breed like a pack horse, the horse was more than a man tall on horseback, with a slender physique, and a smooth fur, and the horse stood still. The lines of perfect muscles are like a living work of art in Nasin.

This horse didn't know how much it would cost in Rosalin, but Na Xin knew that it wasn't a matter of money at all, because it was a typical ghost car, and only the most well-born knights could use such a mount in Jiufeng.

Therefore, he didn't dare to fight the idea of this horse at all, those real outlaws might hit the nobles of Jiufeng with crooked thoughts, but he was just a scavenger, not those butchers on the black road.

The middle-aged man was wearing a thin gown, with half-length black hair hanging down his shoulders, a thin ponytail tied at the back of his head, and a black skin eye patch covering half of his face, and an earthworm-like scar peeking out from under the skin eye patch, carved into the right side of his face like a tattoo.

His mink-gloved hand was always on the reins, and his other hand was not too far from the hilt of the longsword hanging from the saddle, a bronze sword that was swallowed by Pixiu, very different from the sword style of Vaughnd elsewhere.

The war horse snorted under the knight's control, and a thin mist erupted from behind the cage.

The middle-aged man looked at him condescendingly and said to him, "Is there still water?" ”

Na Xin looked at the other party respectfully and replied, "The water is a little rancid, is Miss Huanghuo thirsty, but there is the Qiu Sangze River in front of you, Mr. Liu?" ”

"It's the one you picked up."

"He's awake?"

Nasin asked, a little surprised.

The man had been picked up from the avenue near Tomro after the strange scene three days earlier, and when they found each other, the young man had collapsed under a low stone wall, wearing a somewhat strange overcoat, face down unconscious.

Nasin knew that the place used to be a road for the farmers of Tomro to shepherd their sheep, but since the strange began to wreak havoc, the herders had migrated to the west of Tomro, leaving behind a no-man's land where they had not met any travelers outside of their 'peers' for an unknown amount of time.

However, he concluded that the young man was probably not a scavenger, first of all, he did not look similar to the people in this area, his hair was not black, but a beautiful dark chestnut color, the bridge of his nose was very straight, his lips were very thin, his skin was very white, he was a rather handsome young man, Na Xin had seen the dark nobles among the undead a few times, and subconsciously felt that the other party was very similar to those people, but there was no such cold aura on his body.

Then although the clothes on the other party's body were worn very tightly, it could be seen that the workmanship was very fine, and the shirt inside dared to be silky, which surprised him. He hadn't heard of that scavenger having such extravagance.

"Not yet," the middle-aged man shook his head and replied, "But at least there is a reaction to the outside world, Miss Huanghuo is taking care of him, and you have to find a way to get some water." ”

"That's really no way, Mr. Liu," replied Na Xin, "only by waiting for the Qiusangze River can we replenish the water source, the rest of the water has been polluted, and we people have nothing to drink, but the young man looks like he is from a pampered background, and his body is weak, and he doesn't know what will cause trouble after drinking the rest of the water." ”

The middle-aged man known as Mr. Liu immediately looked at the man whom the citizens of Rosalin were contemptuously called 'scavengers' or 'vultures', who was a little rickety, and did not know if he was forced by the rush of life or if he was just such a cowering character.

However, he didn't mean to look down on the other party, he had been to many places and seen many things, and he was not one of those nobles who took the outside world for granted, knowing that although stealing and selling corpses to the undead was not a commendable thing, sometimes living was really more important than respecting the dead.

Some of these people are really morally degenerate, doing things like robbers in the wilderness, butchers on the black road, he has also heard of it. But there are also some people who are really under pressure to survive, and this person in front of them is obviously exactly that.

When Na Xin rescued the young man, he didn't expect that this person was a believer in the blind goddess, and a person who still had faith in the underworld was more worthy of respect than those who were completely depraved.

So when the young lady asked to take care of the young man, he didn't stand in the way.

What's more, he was also a little curious about the identity of that young man.

Unlike Na Sin's shallow knowledge, he knew very well that in the human realm on the other side of the Sea of the Dead Moon, although the Nine Phoenix was closed, the passage through the Sea of Gloomy Light still maintained intermittent trade with St. Osor and Eruin.

He touched his leather gloves, and suddenly remembered something else: "Naxin, I heard that when you came, you passed through the Qiusangze River and encountered a flood?" ”

That Xin rang for a moment.

It was as if the mention of this matter covered his face with a layer of gloom.

"I'll tell you the truth, Mr. Liu, this thing is indeed a little strange." He swallowed and replied, "You know that you are a believer in the goddess Elaine, and this bad omen has disturbed me for a long time......"

Exactly.

This was Na Xin's last job, and although he hadn't saved enough money, it was enough to live decently in Rosalen, and if he wanted to return to Jiufeng, he would have to find another way. It is said that the lords of Rosalin were ready to retreat to the other side of the strait, and the monsters would not cross the ocean to attack the Swift Plains.

As for where the undead will retreat, it is not something he can care about, the news from the front line is that the twelve Black Moon Lords are facing off against the Strange Monsters in the White Bone Field, and it is almost a war. Although the undead had already begun to retreat, they were not going to lose the entire battlefield—he couldn't help but think.

"That's how it was back then......"

Nashin said, recalling the situation.

…… (To be continued......)