"Centurion, where are we going next?" After taking two bites and quickly eating the rest of the bread and boiled horse meat, White asked in a low voice as he wiped the corners of his greasy mouth.

"To the south." The one-armed man didn't look up and said in a deep voice.

"Well, the march," White asked again.

“… Go and bring the captives. The one-armed man was silent for a moment before speaking again.

"But, that girl said that the aristocratic cub was her trophy, I'm afraid she wouldn't hand it over to us lightly?" Hearing the leader say this, White couldn't help but say with a sad face.

"It's okay, she'll agree. Go ahead. The one-armed man tightened the hilt of his sword in his palm, and his tone remained unchanged.

"Yes, centurion." This time White didn't say anything more, just stood up and strode towards a small unobtrusive fire in the southwest corner of the barn.

"Do what?" When White's footsteps were still a full ten meters away from the small fire, a black figure suddenly flashed out of a shadow that seemed empty just now, stopped in front of White, and asked in a stiff royal Chinese.

By the not-so-bright light of the small fire, White stared at the thin figure hidden in a wide black robe in front of him with unusual vigilance, his palms sweating slightly.

"The centurion wants to see the captive." White took a deep breath and pointed to the other side of the small fire, a black shadow tied up and crawling to the ground.

"That's mine." The thin figure had a cold tone and was full of distrust, and at the same time, his body was slightly on one side, and he actually put on some kind of fighting posture directly.

"The centurion is going to interrogate the little cub so that he can decide on the course of his next move." White tried to control his right hand and not let it touch the short sword at his waist, but the strong sense of crisis and the atmosphere of battle continued to urge the young veteran to defend himself.

"Mine, loot!" is still a mouthful and rigid answer, and the thin figure does not give a step.

"Centurion, see the captives."

This time, White did not choose to be patient, but opened the distance between himself and the emaciated figure in an extremely neat regression instant, and at the same time held the crossbow in his hand with great speed, pulled the string and arrow, and aimed directly at the roadblocker.

And in the face of the bow and crossbow, the thin figure seemed completely indifferent. But a gust of night wind swept by, and I saw that between the slightly upturned corners of the robe, two blue blades, one long and one short, were blooming with a cold and cold light.

The other thieves in the middle of the barn seemed to be alarmed by the unusual movement here, and they all stood up and watched, but none of them dared to stand up and stop it.

"Dang!"

Just as a vicious" inside. When the battle seemed inevitable, suddenly an agitated sword roar came from the other end of the valley field.

Immediately, White loosened the bowstring of the crossbow machine and lowered the bow of the arrow; And the thin figure on the opposite side was no longer murderous after a moment of silence.

"I, too."

For some reason, the thin figure suddenly agreed to White's request to borrow the loot. It's just that as the owner of the loot, she needs to be present at the same time.

"Hmph." White snorted and nodded.

Then, with a low whistle, the emaciated figure summoned an ugly black bantam horse, then grabbed the loot from the ground and threw it on his horseback, and followed White to the one-armed man.

"Rip the sackcloth off the captive's mouth." The one-armed man sat alone on a haystack with a sword in his hand, lonely like an old man on the verge of death. When he saw the thin figure personally sending someone over, the one-armed man nodded slightly, and then said to White.

"Yes." Under the watchful eye of the emaciated figure, White tore off the large piece of linen from the mouth of the trophy that had been thrown on the ground again. …,

Immediately, the booty retched.

"Give him some water." The one-armed man looked at Sir Royanta, who was covered in dirt, with an uncertain expression.

"Good!" White smiled darkly and picked up a large glass of hot water beside him, and poured it on Jazz's face.

"Ahh

Although the temperature of the hot water is not hot, it can still make people feel a pain in the heart, but it is very useful to use it to make people "refresh".

"Sir, are you awake?" The one-armed man's tone was flat, but it was chilling to hear, and he completely lost the gentleness he had had when he had spoken to the villagers.

"Awake," said the captive Sir Royanta, gritting his teeth and enduring the burning pain on his cheeks, struggling to answer clearly.

"Very good, so old rules, I ask questions, you answer." There was no superfluous nonsense, the one-armed man said directly.

"Please... Just ask. In addition to the pain on his face, the broken ribs in his chest also reminded him from time to time that it was best not to be silent or lie in the face of this one-armed man, otherwise the consequences would be quite miserable.

"From here, to Fort Ford, how many roads are there?" The one-armed man asked loudly, speaking quickly and sharply, like a sword in his hand.

"Two." Luo Yanta didn't even dare to pause for a moment, and directly continued the end of the conversation, and hurriedly said.

"Which two?"

"One is further east, passing through the Bantam Meadows, crossing the Bond Ferry, and then reaching Fort Ford; The other is further west, taking the County Road and the Hump Trade Road to Fort Ford. Luo Yanta replied again.

"If you were me, which path would you choose?" After a moment of silence, the one-armed man suddenly asked.

"Take the Western Front." Luo Yanta didn't think about it, and replied.

"Why?"

"The shortest distance." Luo Yanta was slightly stunned, and then hurriedly replied.

"Huh, the shortest distance? It's the shortest distance to hit the pursuers! County Road? Phew, noble little cub! At this time, White, who had been listening silently from the sidelines, snorted coldly, stepped forward and kicked Royata's body.

"Alright, let's take him away." It was only after White had been beaten for nearly a minute that the one-armed man said in a deep voice.

Immediately, White picked up the scarred Royata and threw it back on the back of the bantam.

"Thank you." The one-armed man nodded to the thin figure who was always standing close and silent.

The latter did not reply, but took the reins of his mount and returned to the small fire with his booty.

"Centurion, shall we go on the Eastern Front? It was remote, and it was not easy for the nobles' 'dogs' to find us. When the thin figure was completely gone, White sat down next to the leader and asked in a low voice.

"No, take the Western Front." The one-armed man pondered for a long time before finally saying.

"But?" White asked.

"Taking the western front, although the distance is the shortest, it is easy to be caught up and surrounded by the private soldiers of the nobles." The one-armed man seemed well aware of White's concerns.

"Then why are we—" White was completely confused.

"But if we take the eastern front, I am sure, before we get out of the meadows, the heavy forces of the nobles will be assembled on the other side of the ferry. At this time, no matter how remote the bantam grass is, no matter how large the detour space, we will be trapped in it and finally completely die. Although the one-armed man chose the same route as Luo Yanta, he considered it from a completely different angle.

"I see." White nodded his head convincingly, and secretly sighed that the centurion's experience and wisdom were by no means comparable to that of an "ordinary pawn" like himself.

"Okay, there are still a few hours until dawn, you go and rest first, and I'll keep vigil."

Now that he had made up his mind about his next course of action, the one-armed man waved his hand lightly, signaling White to take his own initiative. …,

Huai nodded without saying much, got up and left the one-armed man, then climbed to the top of another straw pile not far away, and sat cross-legged. Then, taking the crossbow from his back, he took out of his bosom a piece of the skin of an unknown kind, softened the bowstring a little, and carefully wiped it on it, with a gentle and rhythmic movement.

"Eat it."

At the small fire in the other corner of the barn, Sir Royanta was still tied up and thrown on the cold mud. It's just that the disgusting sackcloth is no longer stuffed into its mouth, which makes people feel a lot better.

As if he didn't want his loot to die so quickly, the thin figure deliberately threw a fist-sized piece of dry dough in front of Luo Yanta's head.

Looking at the food that was so crude that it was simply unsightly, Luo Yanta had to wait to eat it. However, under the suffocating silent gaze of the thin figure, Sir Royanta, who had been as proud as a golden peacock, still writhed his body vigorously, like a maggot gnawing on the astringent dough without a little taste, and his heart was full of grief and indignation.

But at least, there is one thing that can make Sir Royanta feel a little relieved. On the western route that he "recommended" to this gang of evil thieves, there is a beautiful manor "Ivy" that is famous throughout the county. It is not known which route the thieves will choose, but even if there is only a half chance, Rodenta will find a way to drag the core manor of the Ensberg family into hell. Only in this way could Sir Royanta restrain the anger in his chest a little, which was enough to burn a qiē.

"Because all the qiē I have suffered is because of you! Moriarty. Ensberg! Swallowing the rough scum in his mouth fiercely, Luo Yanta burst into tears and swore to death.

When everyone had finished eating and drinking, and the wounded were simply bandaged, the thieves went to the farmhouse one by one, and fell asleep on a mud bed that was a hundred times more comfortable than the mud.

Most thieves don't really like the one-armed man, but they don't reject it. Since the original leader of the bandit had been stabbed into a honeycomb by the knight's spear during the siege of Aug, the one-armed man with the strongest combat power had become the new leader. Even the new leader, who joined halfway, looked like a soldier rather than a thief. But at least, more than half of the thieves, led by the new chief, broke through the spear encirclement of the nobles of Auger and scurried into the heart of Kent, and had just captured a large fat sheep of the nobles. So, even though the one-armed man had cut off a mongrel who had tried to slap a woman, most of the thieves were relieved to have the unsturdy-looking one-armed man standing behind them. Just like tonight, when everyone can sleep peacefully, the one-armed man will surely keep vigil for everyone alone.

The second is more served.