Slowing down the Blanco, he turned to look back, and saw a knight in leather armor chasing him from the other side of the road, and beside him two two-horned horses with empty saddles, one man and three horses.

The leather armor style was very familiar, he recognized that it was a caravan guard, but this person was obviously not dressed as a guard, and there were blood stains on the leather armor that had just dried up, and the result was that the bandit had obviously just put on the leather armor that had been stripped from the guard.

The bandit also saw him in the middle of the road, and was stunned for a moment, and then immediately drew his saber with a sinister smile.

Looking at Lin Jixin, who seemed to be frightened in the middle of the road, the bandit raised his saber high, and the next moment, the bandit's saber fell into Lin Jixin's hand, and the person flew high, and blood spurted wildly and fell to the ground.

These two-wildebeests were apparently well-trained, and having lost their owners, they immediately and consciously stopped.

Lin Jixin glanced at them, jumped off the Blango sheep, and walked to the bandit who was struggling to get up: "What are you going to do?" ”

The bandit glared at him fiercely, and with a stretch of his hand, he cut off the bandit's right hand with a knife.

The bandit screamed and clenched his right wrist and rolled on the ground in pain.

With a kick that kicked the bandit towards him, he stretched out his bloodstained saber in front of the bandit: "What are you going to do for the last time?" ”

The bandit did not speak, but stared at him with even more ferocious eyes.

The knife fell, and the bandit fell to the ground.

These bandits are all outlaws, and if he really wants information, he has a way to torture it, but since he doesn't value the information in front of him, he doesn't bother to waste time.

With these three two-horned horses, Blango sheep could be thrown away, and he searched the body of the bandit, but found nothing of value, so he changed his mount and continued to chase along the trail of the road.

This time the speed was much faster, and after walking for a little more than half a day, the road began to appear dead two-horned horses, and he looked at it twice, and he ran out of force and died.

On the next road, there were more and more dead horses, and it seemed that the caravan's escape was almost at the end.

So he slowed down a little and watched carefully all the way.

As expected, after running for a while, he heard a large number of people neighing in the distance in front of the road.

Dismounting, he crept over, and saw a few bandits chatting with a group of two-horned horses on the side of the road, full of resentment that they could not collect the spoils of war from the caravan.

He glanced at them a few times, then pushed them out of the trail and went into the hillside by the roadside, and sure enough, he soon heard the shouting and fighting from the mountainside, and quietly turned back, hid his mount in the woods, and climbed up the mountainside following the sound.

The distance was soon there, and he stood far away on the top of a large tree, looking over there under the cover of the leaves.

Seeing that the caravan had been surrounded by the bandits of the thieves on a small hill, it was already getting dark, if they could run a little longer before, they might have escaped by the night, but now that they were surrounded here, the caravan people were poisoned, and it was difficult to move, and the chances of escaping were slim.

The thieves were well aware of this, and seeing that they were condescendingly guarding, they simply stopped attacking, but some of them watched them vigilantly, and sent another part of them to chop wood on all sides, preparing to light a fire, obviously trying to consume their poison.

The idea of the thieves was to fight very well, and the caravan people were not stupid, and just as it was getting darker and the thieves' fires began to pile up, the strong man in the rock-solid armor suddenly stood up.

"'Yellowbeard', give your people back." He shouted at the thieves, carrying a bloody man in his hand, and Lin Jixin recognized at a glance that it was Deacon Hovre.

The mole is actually him!

Now that I think about it, Deacon Hovre does have quite a few doubts.

Seeing the strong man throw the body of Deacon Hovre down the hillside, Lin Jixin quietly retreated into the distance.

Now that Hovl is dead, he has no interest in taking care of the merchants and thieves.

After walking a short distance, he heard a sudden roar behind him, and then panicked voices from all sides, sounding as if the caravan had begun to break through by some means, and the sound of battle quickly went away, heading straight for the mountains.

By this time it was already dark, and it was not easy to chase down the people who had fled to the mountains, and it seemed that there were still quite a lot of people left in the caravan, and the people of the thieves were afraid that they would return empty-handed.

With this in mind, he returned to the place where the two-horned pony had been placed.

Leading the two-horned horse, he walked for nearly half an hour on a wild road to avoid the bandits on the road, and only when he was sure that he would not be discovered, he re-entered the main road.

Just as he was about to reach the main road, the sound of breathing in the grass not far away caught his attention.

Feeling the faint sound of breathing, he frowned secretly, could it be that the thieves still left a secret sentry here.

He bent down and scurried like a snake.

Before the breath was close, he noticed that it was a man lying on the ground with a weak breath, which made him blame himself a little, it seemed that the comfortable days had passed for too long, and he couldn't even distinguish between a weak breath and a breath-holding concentration.

Then he immediately noticed that the man's clothes were very familiar, and he turned the man over, and sure enough, it was the leader of the caravan.

It seems that he asked his subordinates to lead the pursuers of the thieves into the mountains, and he himself quietly ran in the opposite direction, if it weren't for the incurable poison now, the golden cicada might really come out of its shell.