When Filmin realizes that someone has touched Film's forehead, Filmin wakes up.

With a grunt, Filin turned his head, the blanket on his body wet.

Flynn struggled to break free from them, and sat up to see who dared to disturb Flin.

King Creek's courtier sat on a chair beside the bed and looked anxiously at Film, but Filmin glared at him roughly, causing him to flinch from Film's gaze. A feeling of cramped uneasiness gripped Film.

Rigoletto should have returned to Fort Tag, thousands of miles away, to accompany King Creek a few days earlier, and he never left the king for more than an hour or a night. Therefore, he must be a bad omen here.

Rigoletto was a friend of Firin, at least within the limits of his strange demeanor.

But his visits always had some kind of purpose, and those purposes were rarely trivial or pleasant. Filin had never seen him so tired. He wears a rare clown costume with a rat's head token, and the bright color of the costume contrasts strangely with his pale skin, like a translucent candle entwined with holly.

He was dressed sturdier than he was, gray hair rose out of the brim of his hat as if soaked in seawater, and the flickering fireplace flame flickered in his eyes.

Fei Lin rubbed his astringent eyes and brushed some strands of hair to the side, only to feel that his hair was moist - Fei Lin was sweating in his sleep.

"Hey!" Filin managed to speak, "I didn't expect to meet you here." Filmin said dryly. Filmin remembered that he was sick, but the details were blurred.

"Where else would it be?" he looked at Filin sadly, "the more you sleep, the more lethargic you get." Lie down, Your Majesty. Film can make you feel better. He pulled Filin's pillow almost critically, but Filin waved him away.

It was very wrong, because he had never been so polite to Film.

Although people are friends, his concise and caustic words feel like half-ripe fruit. This sudden kindness seemed to show pity, but Filin didn't want to accept it at all.

Filmin glanced down at the long embroidered pajamas and ornate bedspreads. They looked rather eerie, but the exhaustion and weakness made it impossible for Filin to come up with a reason. "What are you doing here?" asked Film.

He took a breath, then sighed and said, "Filmin is taking care of you, taking care of you while you are asleep."

You know it's stupid for Filmin to do that, but Filmin is a stupid playmaker after all. You know that Filmin is stupid, and every time you wake up, you ask Filmin the same question. Let Filin make a wiser suggestion: I beg you, Your Majesty, let Filin send someone to find another physician. ”

Filin leaned on the pillow that was sore from sweat, knowing in his heart that as soon as he opened his mouth, Rigoletto would definitely change the pillow, but Filin would sweat and wet the new clean pillow, which was really not interesting. Filmin grabbed the bedspread with his rough fingers and asked bluntly, "Why are you here?"

He took Fei Lin's hand and patted it softly: "Your Majesty, Fei Lin is puzzled by this sudden weakness.

This doctor can't help you at all. His knowledge is probably far inferior to his insights. ”

"Borges?" said Film, confused. "Borges, it's good that he's here, Your Majesty! He may be just a stable steward, but Filin dares to say that he is better than Valeslang, who gave you medicine and made you sweat profusely. ”

"Vales, Borges isn't here?" Rigoletto's face darkened. "He's not here, Your Majesty. You know, he stayed in the mountains. ”

"Your Majesty...... King," said Film, laughing as he spoke, "so mocking Film!"

"No, Your Majesty. He said mildly, "No." ”

His mildness puzzled Film. The roundabout rhetoric, the riddle-like conversations, the bizarre verbal attacks and puns, and the cunning humiliation were not like the riddlerups that Filin knew. Filming suddenly felt like an overstretched and worn worn rope, but still trying to figure it out. "So, Filin is at Fort Stag?"

He nodded slowly: "Of course." His mouth was closed with sorrow. Filmin was silent, exploring the abyss of betrayal. Filin didn't know what was going on, so he returned to Fort Stag, but Borges wasn't with him.

"Film, come and get you something to eat. Rigoletto pleaded with Fillin, "You're always better when you're full." He then got up.

"Filmin brought this a few hours ago and kept it warm by the fireside. Filin looked at him with tired eyes.

He crouched down by the large fireplace and removed a bowl with a lid from the fire. When he opened the lid, he smelled the rich aroma of beef stew and watched as he scooped the beef stew into the bowl. Filin hadn't eaten beef for months, and could only eat game, mutton and goat meat in the mountains.

Filin looked around the room with tired eyes, and saw heavy tapestry tapestries, thick wooden chairs, large stones for the fireplace, and intricate curtains. Filin knows this place. This is the King's bedroom in Fort Buck, but why is Filin lying on the King's bed now?

Filin tried to ask Rigoletto, but said, "Filin knows too much, Rigoletto."

Filmin could no longer keep himself in the dark. Sometimes it feels like another person is controlling Film's will, pushing Film's mind in a direction that Filmin doesn't want to go. The walls built by Filin crumbled, and they came like a tidal wave. Filin took a deep breath, but couldn't avoid the impact.

First there was a bleak sting, then it felt as if I was soaking in the rushing cold water. "It's high tide. "There are several ships sailing, ships with red keels......

Rigoletto's eyes widened with vigilance: "In this season, Your Majesty? Of course not! Not in winter!"

Filin's breathing was compressed into his chest, and it became difficult to speak. "This winter was too mild, there were no snowstorms and no barriers. Look, look there, over the water, see? They're coming, they're coming out of the fog. ”

Filin raised his arm and pointed, and Rigoletto hurried over to stand beside Filin, bending down to look in the direction Filin was pointing, but Filin knew he couldn't see. Still, he loyally and hesitantly put his hand on Film's thin shoulder, his eyes widened as if to remove the barriers between him and Filmin's vision, and Filmin wished he could not see the sight as he did.

Fihrin clenched the slender pale hand on his shoulder, and then looked down at his haggard hand, his bony fingers wearing royal rings, but the joints of his fingers were swollen. Then, Filin barely raised his head and stared into the distance.

Filin pointed to a quiet harbor, then struggled to sit up so he could see better.

The gray town gradually unfolded before Film's eyes, the houses and roads were collaged into a vivid picture, and the fog of the port was so thick that Filmin thought that the sky was about to change.

There was something chilling in the air, which cooled the sweat on Filin's body and made Filin shiver. Despite the darkness and fog, Fei Lin could clearly see every grass and tree.

Filmin told himself that this was the arcane spell gaze, and then he was puzzled, because Filmin's arcane spell ability had always been unstable.

However, Film's sight of two ships breaking through the fog and heading into the sleeping harbor made Filmin forget about his lack of arcane spell abilities.

There were two black boats in the moonlight, but Filin knew that the keel of the ship was red, and this was the red boat robber from the outer islands.

The ships cut through the waves like sharp blades, advancing proudly through the fog and sailing into the harbor like thin blades cut into the belly of a pig.

The oars moved silently in perfect unison, the oars were wrapped in rags, and in a short time the hull of the ship slammed into the docks, like a faithful businessman in business.

One sailor jumped lightly ashore from the first boat and tied the rope in his hand to the pile on the shore, while the other rower held the boat steady until the rope at the stern was tied, and everything was so calm and open;

And the second ship entered the port in the same way. The terrible red boat came to the town like a seagull and anchored in the dock of the victim's hometown.

There were no sentries shouting, no guards blowing horns, or throwing torches on the pine resin to light the signal.

Film searched for them, and immediately found them standing with their heads pressed against their chests, their delicate gray handmade sweaters stained blood-red from their throats.

The robbers landed quietly and knew the location of each outpost, eliminating every caretaker, so that no one warned the sleeping town of the enemy that had invaded.

There aren't many sentry posts in town.

It's hard to find this humble town on the map, and the inhabitants pride themselves on being too frugal to attract robbers. The wool and yarn are indeed good here, and the smoked salmon made by the townspeople is delicious.

The sweet aroma of petite apples, the delicious cider and the scenic clam beach in the west of town are the gems of Muddy Bay, small enough to be prized by the people who make a living here.

Of course, the enemy could not snatch these with torches and sharp blades, and the average person could not imagine that a robber would go to such great lengths for a small barrel of cider or a net rack of salmon.

But these red boats did not come for looting or prize-winning breeding cattle, nor did they take women as wives and young men as slaves.

Like Smelttown, robbers slaughter and dissect well-furned sheep, trample smoked salmon under their feet, and set fire to warehouses where wool and wine were stored. Yes, they will also take some hostages to smelt, but only for the purpose of smelting.

Smelting magic will make them inhuman, depriving them of all emotions and basic thoughts. The robbers do not take the hostages, they only leave them here to vent the debilitating pain of their loved ones.

And those who are smelted have no humanity, and can only ruthlessly sweep through their hometowns and rob their relatives like wolverines, which is the most cruel weapon of the outer islanders.