The Poisonblade Mercenaries didn't stay in Passerby Town for long, and they were too busy collecting more nezumi corpses to track down the strange pair of men and women. Moreover, the mercenaries were not sure what happened last night, they only thought that there was something wrong with the two men out of caution, and wanted to get the whereabouts of the two from the tavernkeeper's mouth. What happened in the tavern early in the morning undoubtedly confirmed their suspicions, but it also made them realize that these two men were not as easy to deal with as they seemed. The leader of the Poison Blade is very pragmatic, and he does not continue to hold on to the whereabouts of Roland and Ciel, which may bring considerable losses to the mercenary group, and he only hopes that the two sides will not violate the river water on this well.

And this is not easy. It's not that the mercenaries hold a grudge against the guy who can defeat their leader, and it's Roland's side who is unwilling to let go of the other party. Realizing the bad effects of what the Poison Blade was doing, the magician couldn't sit idly by, and he didn't want to kill the mercenaries, after all, it was human nature to pursue profit. But he still has to weaken the mercenary group's ability to act to a certain extent. Traps are the best option in this case.

Listening to the neighing and cursing of horses coming from afar, Roland's face formed a sly smile. "You also seem to be pretty good at setting traps, many of which I haven't even heard of. Hill, who rode side by side, said, no compliment in her words, and the magician was very accurate about where the trap was placed, how to conceal it, and what might be the outcome. It's like I've been in this situation many times.

"Hehe, this is just a spice for a long life. Roland shrugged his shoulders and told a rare obvious lie. Trapping, observation, and reasoning are what he does best. Being able to act alongside the world's most powerful magicians is enough to prove that Roland has been proficient in this way since he was young. This unique talent has taken his companions out of danger and found their targets as often as Clark's magic. But the magician wasn't going to show off his past right now, as it would remind him of too many things he didn't want to face anymore. Even in such a long life, happy days are short-lived.

The Dementors wisely did not expose this lie. She is well aware of the importance of respecting privacy, especially for people who are shrouded in darkness. Besides, Ciel was thinking about other things right now, "But I still don't understand. Aren't you worried that your setup will send those mercenaries back to Passerby? The tavernkeeper should almost wake up by now. ”

The magician heard his companion's words, and if the Poison Blade mercenary group, completely unable to move forward by the trap, retreated to Passerby, they would inevitably run into a woke Pippo. And then Roland didn't have time to save him again. However, this problem has been considered as early as the time when the obstacle was placed, "Don't worry, the poisonous snake will not spit out its half-swallowed prey, it would rather die." The same goes for mercenaries, not to mention that as a leader, he has just experienced a serious setback, and now even if he grits his teeth, he can no longer make any decisions to show weakness. That would shake the foundations of his prestige, which would be quite fatal for the chief. ”

Hill nodded, she didn't know much about the mercenary's philosophy of life, but what Roland said didn't feel like a casual excuse. So the female doctor didn't say much, and concentrated on distinguishing the direction of the road ahead, hoping to take fewer detours and reach the vicinity of Salon's territory faster. The breeze blows the grass stems, and the farmland can be faintly discerned on both sides of the dilapidated road. Nature devours the traces left by man at great speed, and the weeds are its forerunners, growing out of the ridges of the fields, from the cracks of the stone bricks, covering the creations of civilization.

If a bard were to see such a scene here, he might have been inspired to create a wonderful passage that celebrates this suffering and the experiences of the characters, whether real or apocryphal. But Hill is not a poet, she is a doctor, and the sight in front of her only makes her feel inexplicably sad. The Dementors could hear the lamentations singing among the blades of grass, the souls of the dead lingering here who did not want to leave, mourning themselves in their own way.

"I think my people and I will be busy for some time to come. Hill said suddenly.

Roland turned his head to look at the female doctor, and when he thought of her true identity behind her appearance, he showed a clear expression, "You can calm down the revenant? I thought only the Banshee had this ability." From his words, it was clear that while the magician could not hear the ghost's lamentation like the Dementors, he knew that there was something else to the world under the sun.

"Of course we can't, but we can scare them away and make them hurry to the afterlife. Ciel shook his head and said helplessly, "Otherwise, wizards and other ill-intentioned people who want to collect the undead will soon fill this kingdom." ”

"It's easy to break order, but it's hard to maintain or establish a stable framework. Roland agreed with his companion, knowing that the female doctor's fears were not unfounded. He'd seen too many things roaming the places where death gathered, and those who craved dead bones and souls were sometimes more terrible than death itself.

Hill was about to say something, but a loud and distant sound of a horn interrupted her thoughts. The two men stopped their horses and looked together in the direction from which the sound had come, only to see a rough flag slowly emerging from behind the hillside in the midday sun. There was no need to wait for the banner to be fully revealed, the female doctor had already subconsciously called out the name it represented, "Grand Duke of Hammer." But why are you here?"

"Just look at it. Roland recognized the banner as well, and it was indeed the symbol of the Dwarven Lord who ruled over the entire Hammer Lord. However, the banner in front of him did not represent the rank of a duke, and the cloth with the symbol of the hammer was not intact, but more like a hastily sewn and spliced piece of rag. Even if you look closely, you will see that even the emblem painted on it is crooked, and it does not look like it was made by a regular businessman at all.

The female doctor loosens the reins and supports the magician's opinion with her actions. The two of them rode up the hill to meet the flag. What they saw was a shocking procession, and they said it was shocking because the people who made up it were all in rags, and it looked like there were nearly forty or fifty people, not one of whom was without scars. But even so, everyone in this team had very resolute eyes, and that calm gaze made Roland instinctively think of the hardest rock.

The team stopped in front of the two riders. The Molten Iron Man looked at the two of them without any indifference, although even adult men had to look up to see Roland and Ciel on horseback due to their height, but these people had no fear at all. And this situation did not last long, and when he was about a hundred paces away from the group, Roland was already the first to turn over and dismount, leading his mount close to the other party.

"Where are you going, people of the Hammer?" asked the magician carefully, trying not to show mercy in his words, lest he stinged the self-esteem of the men.

"The royal capital. The bearer poked the pole to the ground and replied, "Where are you going, strange rider?"

"North. I'm going to rush to stop a war that may be too late. Roland saw that the eyes of the Hammermen had clearly converged when he mentioned the north.

"You speak very similarly to the Grand Duke. So I bless you, rider, and I bless you to be where you want to go in time. The magician's pupils constricted, he didn't think there was anything wrong with this, but instinctively told him that something was wrong with the flag bearer in front of him.

However, this abnormal feeling did not affect Roland's demeanor and movements, and he gave all his water and food to these people, "I also wish you to reach the royal capital safely." ”

The Hammermen didn't say anything, they took the magician's supplies and hoisted their banners again and headed south. Hill and Roland stood on the hillside watching these people disappear from view, with a puzzled look on their faces, she looked at Roland, trying to tell her that something was wrong with these people. But before the words came out, the old man waved his hand to stop. "They'll arrive safely, as long as that flag doesn't fall. Roland's words seemed like a conclusion.

When the two of them got back on their horses, the Dementors noticed, that their mounts were different, that the normal horse was running at a speed that had never been done before, and that it was not tired at all. She was amazed to see the scenery around her move backwards rapidly, and noticed that the magician's horse was the same as hers. When they stopped again, they were already in Montenegrin territory, and the road should have taken three days to cover at the previous pace.

"Someone is protecting the Iron Molten Men, maybe some mage, or something. He or He has helped us in the same way. Roland pulled his beloved pipe from his bosom and said.