readx;? Ugly Chicken didn't quite remember how many days it was, though she tried very hard to remember. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

She was a Norman girl who lived in a very small mountain village to parents who were the most ordinary mountain people. Their lord was a very good man, and in the spring they were allowed to go into the mountains to gather mushrooms and berries, in the autumn they were allowed to release pigs into the mountains to eat acorns and fruits, and in the winter they were not only allowed to go into the mountains and forests in search of fuel, but were also allowed to catch rabbits or pheasants of up to three - if they were lucky enough to hunt or pick up a large game such as a boar or a deer, they would be rewarded with a copper coin or two after reporting it to the steward.

Ugly Chicken was a nickname and a name, she was tall and ugly from birth, her shoulders tore her mother's body apart, and her grandmother frowned and put the baby in the firelight, "She's so ugly." These were the first words that the ugly chicken heard when he came into this world. It's like to verify the old man's words, the ugly chicken is not like other children, as long as there is the mother's milk, it will no longer be so wrinkled, red, the longer she grows, the more ugly she becomes, the eyelids are very thick, and drooping down, the nose is very wide, you can cross half of the face, and the upper lip is wrinkled and falling, like a hen's sac, so when people ask, what is the name of this ugly child, her grandmother says, she is called the ugly chicken.

The ugly chicken is very ugly, but in the mountain village, there is no beautiful person with skin as white as snow and hair as charcoal, so she still grew up safely and smoothly, although sometimes a little regretful of her appearance, but very proud of her strength and strength- She was stronger than a man, and could lift a whole tree the size of a bowl, and work like a cow, so when she needed to find a husband, her mother was not very worried, and although the boys valued their looks, their fathers and mothers were sensible, and what was the use of a beautiful face in the mountains and forests. However, the husband of the ugly chicken was not one of these lads, her husband was an outsider, a soldier who had to leave the army because of his injuries, half of his face looked like a devil because he had been burned by fire, but he had skills and methods that ordinary people could not match, and as a hunter, he was favored by the lords, as evidenced by the fact that they only needed a pot in which the husband could sit in it instead of the one in which the wife could sit in it when they paid the marriage tax (the difference between the two was as much as twice as much) 。

But happy times are always fleeting, and the ugly chicken doesn't know what is going on outside, but she vaguely knows that Norman's old king is dead, replaced not by his daughter but by his brother, but this has little to do with them, and when the ugly chicken thinks that their life will go on so plainly, a knight comes to the mountain village, her husband is drafted, he leaves, and never returns. The pheasants grieved for this, but something worse was yet to come, and a group of strange knights rushed into the village, and they were like, no, a band of despicable bandits, who took everything, from food to clothing, from bedding to clay pots, as if they had everything they wanted, including the innocent villagers, who had been roped and dragged behind their horses, and had left their homes, and the light of torches shone through the trees at night, and they climbed up the hill and looked down from above, and could see that the small territory was full of fire.

Ugly Chicken tried hard to be with her parents, but she was quickly singled out, she heard someone laugh at her for not being a woman at all, but another said that the orcs wouldn't care about this - Ugly Chicken heard, her two ears like round fans could always hear what others couldn't, she told the others, but no one believed them, they thought they had been bought to work the fields, and although it was cold and dry on the Wuthering Plains, they were just commoners and serfs, and where they farmed or not? No one wants to run away with her, and someone even betrays her, so the ugly chicken receives "special" care that is different from others.

The merchant probably didn't put her to death because she was more valuable than the other women, and as Gersh said, her strong belly bulged and deflated so quickly that a staggering number of little monsters took away her temperature and blood, and people thought she was going to die, but when she was fed, her mouth was wide open - the so-called "food" that was not very suitable to be described as crude It was simply a mixture of hay powder and the scraps of livestock, such as hooves and horns, and a mixture of manure and charcoal ash, sometimes cold to the bone marrow, sometimes burning like fire, and some women were in tears, and the orcs who fed them did not care very much whether they were willing to eat or not, and the slaves were endless. They may wish to die as soon as possible, and it is true, their bodies are stiff and cold when no one notices, and the ugly respects them, but she still lives tenaciously, shamefully, hard, but she has made up her mind.

It could be the twelfth, or the thirteenth, or the fifteenth night, or more, and new faces were constantly appearing around the ugly chickens, and the female orcs were walking between them, like shepherds looking after a herd of sows, and the birth of monsters was never time-sensitive, day and night, and the task of these female orcs was to drag the newborn little monsters away from their mothers, lest they eat the sacs. The ugly chicken heard the last gasp of relief from the girl beside her, she was dead, her body was quickly dragged away, and when the two orc females approached with torches, the ugly chicken saw their ugly (uglier than her) faces, which were so different from humans, but there were human feelings in their yellow eyes- Peace of mind and schadenfreude, yes, if there were no human women, they would have been the ones who gave birth to these little monsters, and now, in addition to some small costs, such as sleep, they can be spared pain and death.

They muttered and talked, the ugly chicken didn't understand, but she could see that they were busy in another place, and an unfortunate woman was torn open by an impatient little monster, and the little monster ran away, and they were going to find the little monster - an orc woman glanced at the ugly chicken warily, and found that her belly was still calm, but as soon as she turned her head, the ugly chicken jerked hard, and a monster wrapped in slime was pushed out, and it wisely remained silent, its thin claws pressed against the belly of the ugly chicken, sniffing the fishy air.

The ugly chicken breathed silently and heavily, her tongue had been cut off, and only a simple treatment had been given, and the coarse food and missing treatment ensured that it would not heal so quickly, the ugly chicken bit the remnants with its molars, fresh blood gushed out of its mouth, and the little monster turned its head abruptly, and its mouth opened with a hooked tongue and teeth as fine as an eel. The ugly wrapped her lips and squirted, which was too hard to do without a tongue, but she managed to squirt her own blood onto her arms and palms.

The little monster crouched hesitantly, it tentatively climbed up and bit the chin of the ugly chicken, but then it almost bit off the tentacles on its forehead by the teeth of the ugly chicken, it hissed in a low voice, but the resistance of the ugly chicken did make it hesitate, it followed the blood and fell into the wild grass, and after realizing that something was wrong, it climbed up the arm of the ugly chicken, and it bit the small arm of the ugly chicken, and tore off the flesh from above.

Well, the ugly chicken encouraged it in her heart, just go up a little more, go up a little more, go up a little more, you bastard—she thought she had waited a hundred years, and when the little monster finally began to gnaw at her fingers, she jerked her palm, and at once she took the disgusting monster in her hand. The little monster struggled frantically, its claws and ground biting, and in a moment the flesh and blood were blurred everywhere it could touch, but the ugly pressed it against the leather rope that bound her as if it didn't feel it...... But at that moment, an orc woman turned around suspiciously and looked around.

The ugly chicken paused, but the little monster in her hand was still bouncing violently, and she saw the female orc approaching - and just then, the ugly chicken suddenly noticed that the torch was extinguished.

No, it's not that the torch is extinguished, it should be said that she is shrouded in darkness, and the ugly chicken thinks that the orcs have gouged out her eyes, and she has seen enough during this time, and humans are only food and tools here, and the orcs can eat and torture one of them at will, and as punishment, the loss of tongue and eye is the most frequent - but she did not feel pain, or rather, she only felt cold, and the little monster in her hand seemed to stop moving, as if it was frozen.

"Peculiar," said a man's voice, "but unusually disgusting." ”

The ugly chicken only felt a light in her hand, and what she was holding was gone, and then she could see it again, but everything seemed to be eroded by the cold mist, and the ugly chicken saw a pale finger reach out from the mist and press it on her forehead, and the chill pierced her brain like a needle, but before she could not bear to come out, the finger left, and then the ugly chicken was extremely happy to see the leather rope tied to her wrist spin and fall off on its own as if it had life, and she slowly and stiffly lay first on her stomach, then on her knees, and finally staggered to her feetThe first thing she did was pounce on the female orc, who seemed to be in a coma, ripping the fur of the argali's sheep from her body and wrapping it around herself, while unusually skilfully pulling out the knife she had tucked into her boots - the ugly chicken had watched it countless times, and all the movements had been rehearsed countless times in her mind, she slit the orc's neck, drinking the blood gushing from it, shivering incessantly, the blood flowing into her stomach, and her body warm. The ugly chicken raised her body and looked around, where she should have been able to see the orc's tent, but now, for some reason, the fog obscured her vision and the view of others, she listened, and even the sound of the wind became low and intermittent - she was still prostrate, biting a knife in her mouth, and crawling to another woman on all fours By her side, she cut the leather rope, and the woman, who was also a Norman, did not hesitate to imitate the behavior of the ugly chicken, not only drinking blood, but also devouring the flesh of the female orc.

The ugly chicken cut almost all the leather ropes she could touch, but only a few of them could move - the other female ** subordinates only begged in a low voice to end their strength, and the ugly chicken and the person who could move first slit their throats, and then stabbed them in the abdomen with a knife, along with the monster inside.

The wraith watched them, and the orcs had shut the women in sparse "circles" like livestock, one after the other, and this was just one of them, and he curled his fingers to calculate the number—if he were still human, he would be thrilled. So although he knew that what he was doing was extremely naïve and dangerous...... But he did it anyway, perhaps because of the human part of his soul that remained, and he watched with comfort as the ugly chicken led the survivors into the infinite darkness, who sensibly did not choose to save or kill more, and beyond the range of the fog, the torches were bright, and the vigilant orcs were flying back and forth, even if they were all weak female orcs, crippled orcs or old orcs, which were not weak enough for them to fight- And in the wilderness, although there are wild beasts, there is severe cold, there is ice and snow, but in any case, it is warmer and safer than this place ruled by the breath of the abyss.

Run, the wraith said to them, run away from afar, or, as a human being, die in peace.

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When the ghost returned to the black-haired dragonborn, he sat down in his chair, absentmindedly grasping a black hamster, pinching it back and forth, the hamster's body constantly changing like a clay embryo - it was not an ordinary creature, but the warlock's pet, which had quietly appeared in the mansion as a messenger with the help of the Grand Duke's daughter, and the ghost felt a pang of pleasure for no reason to see it being played with so badly. Of course, he couldn't do anything to the black-haired Dragonborn, but he was happy to see the little devil who had brought despair being mercilessly humiliated and teased by his master.

The little devil let out a scream as it had been thrown out of the room suddenly, and when it tried to go in again, it was rejected by the spell, knowing that it was because its master didn't want it to get too much information, but it couldn't help but muttered an expletive, quite popular in the Endless Abyss, in annoyance.

"I want to say ......"

"What?" the former undead pulled out a stack of parchment, which he needed to calculate and analyze, as quickly as possible.

"You're such a nice guy. The ghost said sincerely. (To be continued.) )