Atremithea also noticed that Norman was standing in front of her and looked at her, and glanced up at Norman slightly.

"It's almost there. ”

Maybe it's because she's not used to talking for a long time, her tone is a little jerky, but the semantics are quite clear. After saying this, she lowered her head again and continued to clean up the simple bed.

There was still no expression on her face, but the change did happen to her.

If it was before, even if she saw Norman standing in front of her, as long as Norman didn't speak, she would never speak, but now she would take the initiative to say a word. Although there are not many words, they are a significant change from before.

The lifeless piece of wood seems to be slowly coming back to life.

Still, Norman still thinks the same thing - what the hell is going on?

Norman had planned to just stand and watch her finish cleaning up, but the movement on one side drew his attention.

"Barton!"

A man's voice came from the left-hand side, and when he turned his head to see the group of people gathered around and didn't know what to do, one of them noticed that he was back, and turned to call him.

Seeing Norman turn his head, the man beckoned, "Come here." ”

Norman didn't ask anything, he walked over and got close enough to know what they were doing here.

In the center of the crowd, the boy who had broken his head before was lying on the ground, his face was red, as if it was burning, even in the dim light of the night, he could see it clearly, and he could feel the temperature on each other's faces when he stood here and looked at it.

The boy seemed to be very uncomfortable, his eyes were closed and writhing from time to time, his lips were suddenly closed, and he was suddenly chanting, but he could not hear what he was saying.

"His illness seems to be getting worse. ”

The slave who called him over said this, his eyes worried.

Needless to say, Norman himself saw it, but he couldn't help it, or he had a way, but that was the kind of solution he didn't want to touch.

"I'm not going to see a doctor. ”

Norman said.

The man who called him over said, "I know, but he's so pitiful, can you go and beg Lord Donn?"

The man said this, and his eyes were fixed on him.

Not only the man who called him over, but also the slaves around him also cast their eyes, and every pair of eyes was full of hope.

Norman said, "But Lord Donn only kills, and he doesn't see a doctor. ”

The slave called him over, and said, "But the mage will! If you want to ask the mage to help, only Demps and Donn can do it." ”

Someone next to him answered: "Yes, the spell is so magical, anything can be done, it's not easy to save his life?"

As soon as these words came out, the people next to them also helped to echo them.

In the hearts of these civilians who don't know anything about the world of spells, spells are probably indeed omnipotent.

Norman remained unmoved.

The mage in these mouths, he also knew that he was the most mysterious person in the team, and he always wrapped himself tightly all day long, and no one even saw his real face, and the news that the man was a mage came from the mouths of the knights.

However, such a "mage master" in the team led by the silver knight should be at the level of the black robe. Such a mage is not even proficient in killing spells, so where does he have the ability to save people? The spells related to healing are all intermediate and high-level spells.

Besides, even if the mysterious mage had that ability, Norman didn't think he would waste his precious magic to save a slave.

"Richie is just a slave, and the mage won't come to his rescue. ”

Norman said this, and Richie was the name of the boy who had broken his head and was seriously ill.

The slave who called him over before was unrelenting: "How do you know if you don't try? You are also a slave, didn't Lord Don still accept you as his student?"

The people next to him continued to echo, but Norman still didn't move, which made the eyes of the slaves around him gradually change.

It was a feeling of disdain with disgust, as if looking at a cold-blooded and ruthless selfish ghost.

This made Norman see it and find it very interesting.

When Demps was about to throw the boy away, none of these people came out, he was the one who carried Richie, and for the next two days when Richie couldn't walk, it was Norman who carried him, they never made a contribution, but now these people blamed themselves.

The kindness of the slaves turned into a shrunken turtle in the face of difficulties, eager to dig a hole in the ground and burrow into it, but in this kind of generosity, it emerged unscrupulously, and the eagerness to shine on the heavens and the earth made Norman find it very interesting, and smelled a strong worldly flavor and a strong sense of reality.

At the same time, he seemed to see himself.

If there were no live broadcast room, no Knights Templar, it seems that there would be no difference between myself and these people, or even worse.

"Good. ”

Knowing that nothing would come of it, Norman finally agreed to their request and turned and walked towards the center of the camp.

After a while, Norman returned, but alone, and the mysterious mage was not with him.

Although Norman had only come back alone, the slaves did not give up, and asked with luck, "How is it?"

Norman replied truthfully: "Lord Donn directly refused, and I didn't even see the face of Master Mage. ”

The slaves sighed, but there was no choice but to do so.

After this back and forth, Atrimithea had already made Norman's bed, and Norman lay down directly, lying on his side, and his eyes just happened to see Richie.

Most of the slaves around him had dispersed, except for two who were still crouching aside, looking worriedly at the unconscious boy, one of whom was the same one who had just called Norman over.

The man's name was Matthew, he was in his twenties, and he had been a farmer before he fled into slavery.

At his feet was a piece of water wrapped in leaves, which they had brought back from their previous work. It was evident that the rudimentary vessel was not very good at holding it, and although care had been taken, there was still not much water left in the bowl-shaped leaves. Now Matthew was carefully shoving the sleeves of his tattered clothes into the water, and when he had soaked up the water, he gently unscrewed some of them back into the leaf bowl, and then put the water-soaked sleeves on Richie's face and wiped them down, hoping to cool him down in this way.

If he could take off his clothes, he would move much more smoothly and comfortably, but in that case, Matthew himself might get sick - the night wind in the mountains was still quite bleak, and the temperature was low, even if he was lying down in his clothes, he might get sick if he was not careful, let alone take off his clothes.

Little by little, Matthew soaked his clothes in water to cool Richie, and the slave named Monroe next to him couldn't do anything, but he didn't want to just leave to sleep, so he just squatted on the side.

Norman seemed to find this scene amusing, and kept lying on his side, just watching it.

As the night wore on, the snoring began to fall, and the people in the camp began to dream, but Richie's condition did not seem to improve at all, but worsened, and Norman could occasionally hear his short moans of pain or two as he lay here.

Matthew and Monroe didn't leave either, still crouching beside Richie.

Matthew also looked tired and bored, the frequency of soaking in water and wiping slowed down significantly, and the expression on his face became more and more helpless.

Should be about to give up.

Norman, who had been staring at this, thought to himself: this is a man who is both rational and kind, and he will show his kindness as much as he can allow, such as now, but once he exceeds, he will also give up rationally, for example, when Demps was about to throw Richie two days ago, he did not stand up.

Norman didn't know what the point of staring at this scene was, but he just watched it all the way.

He wanted to keep watching until Matthew and Monroe gave up, but he couldn't wait for that moment after all.

"Whew!"

With a not-so-loud sound, a line of fire slashed across the sky above Norman's head, heading straight for the camp.

"Woohoo!"

This was just the beginning, and a continuous stream of sound rang out, and lines of fire shot out of the darkness not far away and landed in the camp.

It was a flaming arrow.

Some of these flaming arrows landed on the tent, and soon set the tent on fire, and some went straight through it, hitting the sleeping people in the tent, causing several screams of "Ahh

"Enemy attack!"

A shout sounded near the slave camp, and the whole camp came to life, and the reflexive warriors rushed out with their weapons as fast as they could, and the originally quiet night instantly became noisy.

At the first "boom", Norman, who was experienced in battle, realized what was happening, but he did not stand up - the slave camp was the outskirts of the entire camp, the closest to the enemy, and now in such an environment full of sleepers, if he was the first to stand up, it would be a search for death.

Norman lay on the ground and quickly looked around, but he couldn't see where the enemy was coming from in this environment, having lost his extraordinary eyesight. In this case, his best option is to go back to the center of the camp and make peace with Donne, which is the safest.

Norman was about to turn his head and crawl towards the center of the camp, when suddenly a thought flashed in his mind, and he paused for a moment, and reached out in the direction of Atrimicia, trying to call her up and go with him.

He's really different from before, and he wouldn't do that in this case.

But Norman stretched out his hand but felt empty, and when he looked sideways, he saw that Atramicia had woken up.

She was half-crouching on the ground, holding a wooden stick in her hand that she had found out of nowhere, staring warily ahead.

"Ahh

"Run!"

Under this great movement, the slaves also woke up one after another, and many of them stood up and ran like headless flies, but the result was just as Norman expected, these slaves running around became the best human targets under the reflection of the firelight behind them, and soon fell down two or three with a scream, with arrows stuck in their chests, crawling and struggling on the ground in pain for a while before they died.

"Get down!"

"Get down!"

Norman shouted at the right time, and at the same time an same voice sounded behind him, coming from the direction of the center of the camp, and the two words could be felt that the other party was clearly approaching, and when the words fell, they were already behind Norman and them.

"Prepare for battle!"

With a hurried sound, with a bang, something fell beside Norman, and when he turned his head to see that it was the sword he had used to practice swordsmanship in the past few days, and the person who came the fastest naturally didn't have to think about it.

It's Donn.

Don was quite well equipped, and was now wielding a huge shield.

The shield was very large, and Don was tall, but the shield could cover his body tightly, and he couldn't see it at all. After he took two steps forward, he came to the very edge of the camp, and directly thrust the sharp corner of the bottom of the shield into the ground, holding it steadily, like a small city wall, and those arrows made a clanging sound on the shield, but he couldn't help it, so he could only shoot from the side, but after a while, the other warriors also came, all holding shields, forming a shield wall.

The scene stabilized for the time being.

"What about the caliphate?!Why is there no warning at all!"

Don asked angrily to a man beside him.

The man next to him replied directly, "It should have been unplugged!"

This answer made Don not make Don more angry, but calmed down a little, and deep worry flashed in his eyes.

"To be able to kill the caliph silently, at least a bronze horseman......"

The stable situation did not last long, and they did not say a word on their side, and the other side had already reacted.

The unknown enemy stopped shooting, and with the sound of hurried heavy footsteps and the sound of ghost screams, a small force was rapidly approaching.

The camp burned behind them, and the flames could not be extinguished for a moment, and along the flames, Norman could clearly see the appearance of the comer through the gaps in his shield.

It's a bunch of orcs.

Some of them have a tiger's head on their shoulders, some have a wolf's head, some have a bull's head, and their bodies are often thick-haired, and their bodies are very burly, and the thinnest one is only slightly worse than Donn.

The only thing to be thankful for is that their weapons suck.

Sticks, stones, tongs, everything.

And one with a dung fork.