- I should have sat at my desk and copied my scroll comfortably, the former immortal said gloomily.

It was late at night, clouds obscured the stars, darkness covered the land, and Baldwin, Kerribben, Cremar, and a few energetic young knights lay in a rancid sweet potato field dressed only in their tight robes, trousers, and chain mail—the serfs of the continent had learned how to use livestock and human manure wisely to ensure the fertility of the soil, which brought with them the fat sweet potatoes, potatoes, wheat, and disgusting smells and touches.

Instead of sleeping peacefully in the warm furs or sitting at their desks copying scrolls, the lich seemed to need scrolls for their safety, and it was Kerribben who told Birdwin Cremar that they were sorry that there were no boars among their prey, and the zealous master immediately offered to grant his guests' little wishes as soon as possible.

But they can at least put this task until tomorrow!

The lich tried to stop them, but Baldwin seemed to think that sniping one or more boars in the middle of the night in a stinking sweet potato field was more in line with a knight's job than leading a herd of hounds to fence the boar's lair during the day.

So it was my pleasure that an elven ranger, a mage, a lord with a territory, and a few knights politely took possession of a serf's shack and sweet potato field when night came, and prepared to fight a vigorous battle of wild boar.

- Just because of your boring little hobbies, said the lich.

The souls of the other world were silent for a moment.

- Maybe I'm mistaken, said the otherworldly soul, but it doesn't seem to be me who uses this body today - so I ate and drank at lunch, enjoyed a whole pot of lamb chops stewed with pepper and spices, and a basket of salty bread, and at dinner......

- I didn't say anything about your appetite when you were using your body, and the lich said, I was just thinking about it, and I didn't notice what I ate.

-- On the plate was a whole roasted leg of lamb, the front leg, weighing four pounds, and the soul of the other world reminded him that the fat and charred leg of lamb, sprinkled with lemongrass leaves, rosemary and paprika, the fragrance of spices and transparent oil seeped into the crispy skin, and the fat under the skin seemed to melt at any moment, and every piece of meat was so delicate and firm, tender and juicy......

- The boar is more alert than the argali, and the former immortal said calmly, "How do you think I will stand up and sing a song to meet it?"

The soul of the other world closed his mouth, he had not been able to eat fresh mutton, and he did not want to lose the wild boar again.

There is a reason why Berdwin chose this sweet potato field, the wild boar around Thunder Castle has an intelligence similar to that of a human child, the owner of this sweet potato field is just an alien exiled serf, still strong but very fond of drinking, so he often falls asleep at night guarding the field, his sweet potato field has been damaged by wild boars, and will continue to be destroyed.

They squatted in their shacks, which were covered with exuberant bushes and vines, and Berdwin brought some bad wine from the city and sprinkled it around the shacks, where his servants hid in the shacks and imitated the serfs from snoring loudly, and before he stopped the serfs from trying to clean the sweet potato branches and leaves.

"The boar is a creature with a good memory and a suspicious nature," said Berdwin, "and it will run away if it's a little different." ”

Thankfully, it was cold enough that they didn't have to endure the buzzing mosquitoes, but the numbness of the cold and cold winds of the land didn't feel very pleasant, just when the former undead wanted to stop the stupid act - not that he would actually stand up and sing a song, of course, but he could cough a few times, or do a little spell to kick the knights in the ass and make them scream and jump.

The boar appeared before he wanted to do anything that would grieve the souls of the other world.

It was a big creature with heavy armor - wild boars liked to bathe in muddy water, and then rubbed their bodies repeatedly on hard rocks, mounds of dirt, and pine branches dripping with pine resin, until they grinded these things into a single body with their mane, which they did at first only to prevent themselves from getting hair** They were killed by the sharp fangs of other male boars during estrus, but when they found human fields and found a richer and more delicious source of food, this practice allowed them to avoid iron ploughs, hoes, and flails.

By the way, there are also fangs, the fangs of wild boars are more dangerous than the horns of argali, they are simply two scimitars that glow with white light, and can pierce steel armor with all their might.

The boar walked and stopped, raising its nose or lowering it from time to time to sniff the air, the land and the sweet potato, the bright starlight and the distance before it and the ambusher already allowed them to see its small green eyes, a scar passed between its eyes, severing its flesh-red nose - a wounded boar, Baldwin wished that this scar was not left by humans, and that the boars that had been injured by humans were more vigilant and furious.

Unfortunately, perhaps he had guessed correctly, the boar seemed to smell something unusual, and it suddenly turned around and walked towards the other side of the sweet potato field, just in the opposite direction of the trap they had set, and a young knight couldn't help but move, and the small clatter of a dead branch when it was broken made him and the boar jump at the same time.

Baldwin immediately threw a short pike dart and Kerryben shot his arrow, but faster than they were a bolt of lightning, and the boar's dirt armor worked, and although all three hit, only Kerryburn's arrow bleed—the arrow hit it in one of its eyes.

Instead of fleeing, it lunged at the humans and elves, and the lich raised his hand, and sent a second and third bolts of lightning, and struck the boar's nose accurately, except for the eye, which was probably the only part of its body that was not covered in dirt, but the boar, which weighed seven hundred pounds, rumbled towards them like a round boulder in the night, and Kerribben's second arrow destroyed the only eye it had left— The lich's fourth bolt of lightning was probably the last light it had ever seen in its life, and it could only use its last memories to rush towards the human who sent it lightning.

Slowly but just in time, the lich cast a small spell that had the effect of turning the uneven sweet potato field into a smooth, greasy runway, and the poor boar fell to the ground with a thud.

It was a bit of a comical situation, but it could be laughed at later, and Berdwin drew his broadsword and gave it the final blow.

The boar's blood soaked the small half of the sweet potato field, and its nose smelled of roasted meat, making everyone feel a little hungry.

Baldwin's men had borrowed a sturdy wagon capable of sleeping five adult males at once, and he and his knights dissected their prey on the spot, discarded the inedible fur and hooves, and gave a hind leg and boar's head to the drunken serf to compensate for the loss of the sweet potato fields, and finally transported the remaining meat and entrails back to the city.

The wagon was followed by its coachman and several servants who were doing rough work, one of whom was visibly isolated from the others, with flaxen-colored hair, and the black imprint on his face stood out against the pale skin.

At that moment, Kerry thought he had seen Adair, but then he realized that it was not, he sighed slightly, he hoped he was Adele, he had been worried about this simple young human, the result of trekking alone in the wasteland could only be to feed the giant wolf or the orc.

The empty cart staggered out of the cavern, a huge prison that had once inhabited countless large bats, and where the people of Thundercastle had kept the prisoners sent by the royal capital for the time being.

All the prisoners wore iron collars around their necks, and chains were attached to them, and every twelve men were fastened side by side on a whole strip of wood, and they either stood together, sat together, or lay down together - this was difficult, because there were so many people here, all of them were naked, and they were hungry - their guards gave them very little food and a little water, and some of them would bite those around him when they could not bear it, and drink the blood of their own kind, and eat the flesh of their own kind.

A caretaker walks up and down among these filthy and evil people, applying herbs to the bitten and giving them water.

For this he was almost bitten by one of the prisoners, and his companion ran up to him and whipped the prisoner with a whip until he fainted.

"They are not worthy of you," said his companion, "they are not men, they are beasts." ”

“...... Their sins may not be as heavy as mine. The man said, ruffling the strands of gray hair that covered his cheeks, revealing the imprint on his face.

"We know what kind of person you are," said his companion, "and you must have been wronged." ”

"I did kill my brother. He said.

A new prisoner raised his head as they passed by.

"I am wronged," he said in a soft voice, "I am wronged, and a crime which I have never committed has been forced upon me - just Tyre, bear witness for me, I swear by my mother that I have never committed the sin they accuse me of." ”

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