The man was light-legged and fast, but Kersmeer rode faster than him, and within seconds he was behind him. However, the man immediately turned to the side and turned into another alley. Kersmund had no choice but to turn the horse's head and let the horse turn, but in such a narrow alley, the horse's turn was not easy, and Kersmund had to slow down and control the horse's pace before he could barely turn into another alley.

In this way, the steering of the horse on the horse of Kersmund was much slower than that of the man, and he was instantly distanced by the man again. After entering another alley, Kersmod didn't have time to think about it, and immediately rode in pursuit.

In this way, the man ran in front, and Kersmoud rode in pursuit, and soon turned three alleys. Riding a horse in such an alley, it is really not an easy thing, it is not much of a problem to rush straight in the alley, and you can still follow the guy closely, but when you get to the corner, the speed drops sharply, not to mention, it is still very thrilling, and Eksmerd almost hit the wall with a man and a horse, fortunately, Eksmead's riding skills are not bad, and the strain is timely, otherwise he may have hit his head and ended up bleeding.

Kersmoad adapted to the turn from alley to alley, faster each time, and after getting his crotch dismounted to complete the turn faster than the previous three times, and turned into another alley, Kersmod immediately rode after him, and instantly closed the distance with the guy in front of him. It looked like it was about to catch up with the guy - the head of the horse's crotch was less than half a foot from the man's back. But just as Kersmund reached out and was about to grab the guy, the guy happened to run to the mouth of an alley. The next moment, he turned almost against the wall around the corner. Narrowly, Korsmund couldn't catch him, so he had to rein in his horse and turn around.

Before Kosmerd could turn into the alley, and before he could see the alley, a dozen long sticks were already attacking at his place.

Kersmund hurriedly pulled the reins of the horse hard, trying to stop the horse immediately. The horse's front hooves lifted, and the man stood up and let out a long neigh. In this way, most of the dozen or so long sticks struck the horse's body, and only three or two poked at the horse's back. And when the horseman stood up under the crotch, he pressed his hand lightly on the horse's back, and his body was separated from the horse's back by force, and while dodging the long sticks, he leaned backwards and fell to the ground.

By the time his feet touched the ground, his center of gravity had lost, causing him to be unsteady on his feet, so he simply rolled sideways to the ground next to him. As he rolled, he pulled out the iron sword on his back. When he got back to his feet, several enemies armed with long sticks rushed at him again.

He didn't have time to think about it, and while blocking with the iron sword in his hand, he immediately retreated and dodged, so as not to be surrounded by more enemies. The military horse had been hit by more than a dozen sticks, and although its armor provided him with the necessary protection, it still suffered multiple wounds on its body. When its front hooves hit the ground again, it rushed forward like crazy in pain, knocking out three or four people who didn't have time to dodge, including the one who had lured Kersmund here and was panting.

The dozen or so men armed with wooden sticks, all dressed in short linen robes, looked like ordinary citizens. After their failed sneak attack on Kersmer, they immediately followed up and launched a siege on Kersmer. Grim calmly responded, facing the dozen or so long sticks that were coming at him, retreating and dodging, and using the iron sword in his hand to make the necessary block.

The opponent's superiority in numbers and the length of his weapons was so obvious that it was difficult for Kersmund to resist for a while, and he had to keep retreating and dodging, with no chance to fight back. There were so many long sticks that came at him that on several occasions he was unable to dodge and was grazed by several long sticks against his body, leaving him with several bruised wounds.

Kosmerd struggled to suppress the growing panic in his mind, keeping his composure, and the more times like this, the more he had to keep himself calm. Because he knew very well that shortness of breath and scrambling would only make him die faster.

By a few seconds, Kosmod had largely settled into the rhythm of the opposing team's dozen men – determined by their long-stick weapon proficiency and agility. At the same time, he also made a rough judgment and a rough understanding of the advantages and disadvantages of their weapons. The opposing side had too many men and too long a weapon to defeat them by attacking their weak points with a late strike, but he soon found a breakthrough.

Kosmerd dodged sideways with a long stick that stabbed him straight at the head, and at the same time, swapped his right iron sword to his left, blocking the blow that was slammed into his left shoulder. Then, seizing the right moment, he jerked out the best elite scimitar from his waist with his right hand, and swung it from the bottom to the top, striking a wooden stick that poked at his chest impartially. Listening to the sound of "click", the extremely sharp blade cut off the wooden stick in an instant before it made a graceful arc.

Next, while dodging, Ksmund saw the opportunity in this way, and constantly used the sharp scimitar in his hand to cut off the wooden stick that hit him in an instant, so that the long stick in the hands of more than ten people on the other side gradually turned into a short stick, and the short stick gradually turned into a stick. As more and more of the opponent's weapons became shorter, their advantage was gradually lost, and Kersmod gradually took the initiative with his much faster shots and swords in his hands.

Korsmed swung his sword and bullied the men in front of them, and at the same time knocked the enemies to the ground one by one with his feet, the hilt and the hilt of the sword, because it was about Soraton, and Germund did not want to kill innocents until he found out the truth of the matter, so he did not hurt them with his blade or blade, but only knocked them to the ground.

Seeing his companions fall on the ground, two of the remaining three men immediately turned and ran, and the other immediately threw down the short stick in his hand and raised his hands in surrender. Instead of chasing the two escapees, Kersmund grabbed the surrendered fellow's chest and clothes, and shouted at him, "Who are you? Why did you do this to me, and when did I offend you?"

"I'm sorry, sir, yes...... It was our host who wanted to see you and then let us please ...... Please come over ......," the man with a large black mole on his face quickly explained.

"Ask me to come over?" do you call that please, and who is your master, and what is he looking for me?" asked Kersmurd.

"Our master is Mr. Oslo, and we don't know what he is looking for you for, we just do what he commands......" said the man in awe.

"Oslo?" Kersmund repeated the name, but he was completely unfamiliar with it, unheard of.

"Your master and the ...... Do you have any grudges against me, and why did you invite me to see him in this way?"

The man was embarrassed and said, "This ...... Come with us, sir, and then you'll be clear with our master in person......" Looksmund hesitated for a moment, then nodded and said, "Well, then you will take me to your master now!"

Although he didn't know who this Oslo was, since this person could instruct his subordinates to use such rude and despicable means to "invite" him, then this person must not be a good person. He mistook Kosmerd for Soraton and asked his men to "invite" him—in fact, to arrest him to meet him—and naturally it was not for any good thing. I'm afraid that Kesmode's departure is more than lucky.

However, without much thought, Kersmund agreed to go with the thugs. The reason why he made a decision so quickly was because he had now taken Soraton's matter as his own, and he naturally had to do his best to solve the problem of Soraton. And it is obvious that the most direct and effective way to solve the problem at hand now is to go to the owner of these thugs - Oslo.

"Okay!" replied the man with a big black mole on his face, smiling.

Then Minded went to the end of the alley, took back his mad horse, and examined it carefully, and found that it was not seriously wounded, so he turned over and rode to their master, led by the man with a big black mole on his face, and his companions who had risen from the ground.

Minder followed the men through a few alleys to a wider street. But this street is different from other streets, there are almost no pedestrians, because one end of this street is impassable, only the sides of the street, there are a few alleys connecting them. At the end of the street sat a noble family of great prestige and power in the city of Kulau.

After walking down the street for a while, the thugs stopped at a grand gate at the end of the street, and Kersmund followed Lerma to a halt. His gaze swept past the silver-white wall next to the gate, which was more than two people high, and swept past the tips of several tall towers, and he couldn't help but sigh at the luxurious life of this family, because these towers alone could rival the towers of some churches.

One of the thugs knocked on the door, and it opened, and a middle-aged man with a big nose poked his head out from behind the door.

The man with a big black mole on his face stretched out his hand and pointed at the middle-aged man, "This gentleman is the person the master wants to see, we have invited him, you hurry up and report to the master!"

The big-nosed middle-aged man turned his head to look at Kersmer, looked Kersmer up and down with a slightly sly gaze, nodded, and replied in a strange manner: "Okay, I'll go and report to the master, you can take him to the hall." Before he could finish speaking, his figure had disappeared behind the door.

The thugs led the horses away from the gate, and the men led the horses, the gates were closed, and the rest scattered, leaving only the man with the big black mole on his face, and the man with the small eyes who walked straight ahead with him.

They walked through a wide courtyard, more of a small square than a courtyard. The small square was sparsely planted with plants and trees, almost all of which were of a variety that Kersmer had never seen before, and did not look like ordinary plants and trees. Despite the rare green color of the plants and trees in the snow and ice, Minded was not really interested in them, and after sweeping them away, he did not look at them much.

Kersmoud followed them to a building that looked like a castle, and then went up a few steps, through another gate, to a large hall. The most striking feature of this hall is a large long table in the center, which is surrounded by chairs. Not far from the long table is a fireplace with plenty of firewood, a blazing flame, and a few low stools next to the fireplace.

The two men invited Kersmud to the fireplace, and made him sit down on one of the low stools while waiting for their master to arrive. Ksmund sat by the fireplace, watching the flames in the fireplace dance passionately, and felt very warm. The chill left on him by the cold and snow outside was dispelled in an instant by the warmth of the fire, and at this moment, Ksmod only felt indescribably comfortable.

Shortly after he sat down, there was a sound of footsteps at the other end of the hall. Then, two figures came out of the hall, the first of them wearing a pure white fur coat, short and fat, fat head and big ears, with a shiny face, and looked about thirty years old.

Behind the man, a woman in a red maid's uniform followed him with her head bowed. Her figure is bewitching and charming, which is pleasing to the eye. But because she had her head down, what she looked like, Kersmod couldn't see it for a moment, and could only roughly see the contours of her face and the features of her eyebrows. However, looking at the dress, this woman was obviously a maid, and there seemed to be nothing to be particularly concerned about by Ksmoed.

Glancing at the red-clothed maid and then at the fat man, Kersmerd's brow furrowed, and then immediately relaxed.

As soon as the man walked into the hall, he looked straight at Cosmod's body and looked at it carefully. Seeing the two men walking towards his location, Kersmund slowly stood up.

"Master, we've invited the person you want to meet!" said the thug with a big black mole on his face.

"Are you their master, Mr. Oslo?" asked Kersmund at once.

The man nodded to Korsmode, and then said to the two thugs in a slightly sarcastic tone, "I didn't expect him to be invited by you unscathed, you are really very capable of doing things." It's none of your business here, so get out. ”

"Yes, master!" said the two thugs together, and left the hall quickly.

"Hello, sir, I need to introduce myself to you first!" said the fat man named Oslo, looking at Osmer with a smile on his face, and said in a gentle tone, "My name is Oslo, and I am now a merchant in Kulau, and I may be able to become a lord in the near future." I mean, I am not short of money and power, and I am the nephew of Mr. Rodra, Lord of Kulau, and the cousin of the Earl of Marmoun. Well, young man, you're the Nord royal guard named Soraton, aren't you?"

Dermard hesitated, nodded, and said, "Yes, Mr. Oslo, may I ask why you sent your men to ask me to come here to meet you?"

Oslo laughed, did not answer Kersmod's question, and said to himself: "When we first met, you probably never heard of me, but I have long admired your name, and I know that you are the future son-in-law of Mr. Beruga. We didn't know each other, but we all knew the same person. ”

"Who?" asked Kersmund immediately.

"That person is Ms. Jamila. Oslo said in a slightly agitated tone, deliberately accentuating the word "Jamila".