Phil didn't ask about Edward's fate, he was afraid to hear about his fearful end.

Since he had fainted and had not seen it, it was better to keep a glimmer of hope, even if it was very slim.

Just like Schrödinger's cat, until the box is actually opened, the cat is alive for him.

He didn't ask about the purpose of kidnapping him, because he could see that these people were probably not the ones in charge, and there was a bigger plot behind them.

Since he hasn't killed himself yet, his life is safe for the time being, and it will take time to recover from his leg injury.

Until then, he just had to wait in silence.

In the afternoon of the tenth day, the group of four finally arrived at their destination, a campsite hidden in the deep mountains and old forests.

The whole camp was just below a huge mountain beam, and with the dense and tall woods around it, it would be impossible for the outside to know if there was no one to guide the way, and there was such a huge secret hidden here.

It is no wonder that several encirclement and suppression operations ended hastily because they could not find the other party's nest.

There were several hundred people in the camp, men and women, young and old, most of them women in the prime of life, followed by men and children, and very few old people, only a few could be seen.

Phil even saw Ward and Prairie women, lying on dirty, messy thatched mats, serving the same man.

Everything here looks like a nest of primitive troglodytes, and it seems that there are no requirements for living conditions, and the thick logs have been roughly cut off from the branches, and they are built together very haphazardly, forming dozens of strangely shaped wooden sheds.

If you just look at the appearance, it is difficult for you to imagine that the object in front of you is a house for people to live in.

More of them are shacks that can't even be called houses, densely packed to the end of the line.

The three of them entered the camp with Phil, which immediately caused a huge sensation, and almost everyone gathered around to look at Phil, who was carried behind by Murphy.

Women and children are looking at monkeys, and men are looking at food.

Even if he has a big heart in this life and is stared at by so many people with such naked eyes, Phil is still inevitably a little nervous, not knowing what awaits his fate.

Monkey, no, Phil was thrown to the ground, and the force of the shock made his calves hurt so much that he couldn't help but snort, which immediately caused laughter and applause from the onlookers.

Murphy and the others just tied a rope around his neck, and tied the other end to a thick stake at random, and then turned and left, not knowing whether to tell the leader or simply rest.

The crowd gathered around, forming a circle just a few meters away from Phil.

A few dozen men wore all sorts of strange armor, including chain mail and half-body armor, but many more were leather armor, and the only thing in common was that it was dirty and messy, as if they hadn't bathed for hundreds of years.

Because of the proximity, the smell of the smell on his body made Phil's throat squirm involuntarily, and he could vomit at any time.

Compared with them, Murphy and the others are as clean as an alternative, and they think they are also deliberately because they don't want to leave clues to follow.

The women's bodies were slightly better, but they couldn't see the beauty and ugliness clearly, and most of their faces were cold and numb.

Phil dragged his injured leg from side to side, trying to avoid the stones and pits thrown at him by the child, looking more like a monkey.

After a while, Phil was given a piece of black bread and a glass of water, very shabby, for his belated lunch.

The bread is coarse, hard as stone, and the clear water is great, with a bit of the sweet taste of Nongfu Spring.

He didn't have any dislike, little by little he soaked the hard bread in his mouth with water to soften, chewed it carefully, and swallowed it.

He didn't know if it would be his last lunch, even if it was far from full, but it only calmed his burning appetite a little.

But Phil still eats slowly and seriously, feeling every taste bud and enjoying it as if he is savoring a hearty meal.

In just a few days of prisoner travel, he has automatically developed a good habit of cherishing food.

If Catherine were to see the scene in front of her, she wouldn't know whether to be happy or weeping.

Phil was satisfied, no matter how unpalatable brown bread was, it was better than the half-cooked pieces of meat that smelled of blood, and there was no salt or any other seasoning.

Perhaps his eating appearance was too gentle, which once again caused a lot of discussion among onlookers.

Phil peeked coldly, and there were only a few women who were suspected to be Ward, and there was a little pity and nostalgia in their expressions.

That night, Phil slept under the thick stake.

There was no soft bed, no warm quilt, no kiss from Catherine, who always accompanied him to sleep, it seemed as if all this was just something that happened in the previous life, and it had been a long, long time away from him.

Phil forced himself to close his eyes and fell asleep like that, hoping to see his mother in his dreams.

One can imagine how sad and tormented this woman will be now.

Phil is very fortunate that two years of unremitting exercise and a steady stream of precious herbs have allowed him to have a very strong body.

Edward has worked hard to develop excellent physical qualities, which are not only manifested in external manifestations such as strength and speed.

What's more, even though he was frightened, even if he was in pain from broken bones, even if he slept on the damp soil, he still did not get sick, and he did not have a fever.

He couldn't imagine what a tragic end would have been if he fell ill at this time.

Early the next morning, with a burst of cheers, the gates of the camp were completely opened, and hundreds of people poured in from outside, all strong men, dressed in armor and armed with weapons.

The person at the head is full of gray hair, but it is obviously not because of his old age, because looking at his complexion, he is just over middle age, and he is not more than 60 years old at most.

Wearing a suit of gray-brown chain mail, but with several large steel plates nailed to his chest and shoulders, and wearing a blood-mottled giant axe on his waist, he walked with the sound of locks clashing.

Phil was ushered into the largest wooden house, which was covered with a thick carpet, perhaps once luxurious, but now so dirty that he could not see his original color.

The white-haired man sat in the middle of the group, with Murphy standing behind him on his left.

This also allowed Phil to see his facial features clearly, indistinguishable from the average Ward, with pale skin, a large nose like an eagle hook, and deep-set eye sockets.

What is especially impressive is his dark red eyes, combined with his white hair, which makes people shudder, reminiscent of legendary vampires.

With these terrifying eyes, the white-haired man looked directly at Phil on the ground, as if ready to pounce at any moment and stick out his evil fangs.

A whole glass of bright red wine was poured into his mouth, flowing down his equally snow-white beard, adding to the blood and horror.

Phil stared at him silently, not trembling with fear or a defiant gaze that didn't know whether he was alive or dead, but watching very indifferently.

The white-haired man's intimidation didn't seem to have the desired effect in front of Phil, and with some annoyance, he said, "You don't know yet, your father Matthew is dead. ”

Phil only felt as if he had been hit in the chest by a sledgehammer, his blood was surging, his mouth was a little fishy, and his head was buzzing.

Instinctively, he denied, "No way! You're lying!"

Phil's heart was drumming, although he didn't know if the other party was lying, but he had to admit that he was scared at this moment.

Although that man is the cheap dad of his life, although that man is only at home for a short time in a year, although there is always a trace of embarrassment between himself and that man.

However, Phil was still afraid.

Because on the way here, when Murphy and the others were discussing, they didn't deliberately avoid him, and there was nowhere to avoid him at all.

So he knew that in addition to kidnapping himself, the white-haired man in front of him was indeed leading the main force of the thief group, setting up an ambush on the border, and it was said that he had prepared several military-grade siege crossbows.

Phil had seen the siege crossbows himself, each larger than his bed, and hung on them more appropriately than a crossbow bolt than a mounted spear.

He was afraid of facing the scene of losing his father again, afraid that he would lose him if he didn't have a chance to say he loved him again, and he was afraid that this time he wouldn't even have a chance to hold his hand.

"Don't believe me?

It was I, Moody, the leader of the White Eagle Bandits, who cut off his head with my own hands.

It's with this axe, and you can see that the red on it is his bloodstain.

His bones were so hard that I had to cut them twice before I cut them off. ”