By the time Gerak's scimitar swung at Darth Bepha, the Kalladians of the steppes had almost understood his ways. The so-called "pardon" crowd www.biquge.info pen & fun > pavilion didn't even see a shadow at all. Many of the Karads in the large towns of Achmoor and Tulga had packed up their belongings and hired their wagons and fled all the way back to their hometowns, where they had been disappointed, but they did not know that soon the mountains of Rhodok would no longer be peaceful, at least now they were returning home with the hope of a safe life.

Havar of Tulga was a knight who had been given a belt by the previous king, he valued honor more than life, loved commoners more than nobles, and once followed Marshal Mars in the northern and southern wars, and made great achievements. He came here before the grasslands of the Autonomous Region showed their mysterious faces, because of his adventurous and desire to expand the kingdom's territory. He was hunting wild beasts in the steppes at that time, and he reaped a lot of rewards with his extraordinary strength and superb combat skills. Later he took up residence in Alchemore, and entrusted his estate in Alib to a trustee, for he himself had fallen in love with the land. He had spent many years of peace in Alchermore, and by the time Gerak's army arrived, his armor had dusted and his warrior's sword had rusted. But he still organized his own family and attendants, and gathered volunteers in the surrounding villages. As an experienced veteran, he certainly knew that if the Kugit were allowed to enter the hinterland of the steppe, the civilians who fled would only be slaughtered. He was determined to resist to the end, both for his honor and for the sake of the people of the Empire.

Porcha's father was still doing his daily farm work, and he was as cold and silent as before. Porcha was stopped at home by his mother, who he often looked at in confusion, but her mother always held his head tightly at this time, and he could not see his mother anymore, but heard soft sobs. He was still confused.

No one knew that Porcha's father was alone at this time, and he seemed to be aware of his fate, which was similar to what he felt when he thought he was alone for the rest of his life, and in that moment the shock of loss finally turned into a deep anger, a sense of powerlessness that went deep into the bone marrow.

Finally, two days later, when he got up early, he called his wife and son, and with a blank expression, evidently with extreme restraint, he said word by word: "You Kugit are robbers. Porcha blinked, he did not understand what his father was saying, and he looked up at his mother, whose expression was like that of an extremely tired dying person, her face was pale, but there was an extraordinary quiet beauty.

"But you are my wife, and little Porcha is also my son," the father continued, and he seemed to have at last restrained all his emotions, and looked at his wife and children carefully like a man who had come out of all his pain, and they were listening to the last words he had said to them, "Live well." ”

Then he quickly walked out of the door, turned on his horse, and headed for Tulga, still with the short-sleeved robe and the rusted sword at his waist.

Porcha looked up at his mother, and a teardrop shattered on his forehead.

Later, Havar's small force of a few hundred men encountered the most elite Black Flag cavalry led by Dastam at Fort Dista, and they held the force back for a whole day, some say that each of them fought like knights, and others said that they were actually Haval's elite troops. They bought the fleeing refugees a day, at the cost of all their lives.

As a tribute to them, the Kujits laid them neatly on the steppe and left. The scar on the chest of the middle-aged man was particularly stark, and his eyes were wide open, as if he had finally come out of his loneliness.

The Kugit spread like a flame across the grassland, but Porcha and his mother seemed to be cut off from the rest of the world, and they just waited quietly in the house, the flame of hope in their hearts had not been extinguished, until half a month later, when the Kugit began to put up notices and count the population from house to house, they knew that the man they were waiting for could not return. However, St. Glendir's did not even leave them time to weep, because a new command was issued: all young women were to choose their spouses. And Porcha's maternal grandfather, the capable old man, groaned for a long time, but still persuaded his daughter to start a new life, intending to book a good family for her.

Finally, on a cold and sunny night, after rejecting numerous proposals, the daughter finally understood that her father had lost patience, so she called Porcha to her room, and by then Porcha had grown into a teenager, but he was still so timid and simple. All he knew was that his mother had handed him a money bag with about 4 or 500 dinars in it. Then he heard his mother's hoarse voice, he knew that his mother had been arguing with his grandfather all these days, and was in a bad mood, and he wanted to comfort and comfort his mother, and sing a song and tell her a joke as he had done before, but his mother's words froze him.

"Porcha, you're like your father, you're a Kalade. It's not going to be a place for you to live anymore, you know?"

The mother hid her face, trying not to let him see the tears in her eyes, and her voice was more indifferent than ever.

Porcha had never remembered what had happened after that, and every time he had fallen into a trance, he had remembered it when he was facing the candle flame in the middle of the night, but he never had a clear recollection. All he knew was that his mother had forced him to flee from the house, and after a week in the tavern in Tulga, he could not hold back, and when he returned to Das Befa, he learned that his mother had hanged herself from the tree in front of his house on the eve of the wedding. Since then, he has not returned to Das Befa.

"The men in Kugit are all jerks. On the nights when he ran away from Das Befa again, it was not uncommon to hear the gnashing of teeth from a teenager in the streets late at night.

When Porcha fled from the town, the Kugit gathered all the adult males, and Gerak, like all those who are carried away by victory, was obsessed with his own strength more than he believed in his own reason. He thinks that the empire is like an overwhelmed camel, and that he is the last straw. Many of the Kujits, most of them the descendants of the Karad and Kujits, had the impression of Gerak as a bandit who had come to his land to show off his might. They are not willing to serve a robber, but they are not willing to lose their lives. Having lost their land, their property, their families, and only their dignity and lives were left behind, they fled in all directions and became the notorious bandit of the steppe: Xiangma. When Porcha escaped from town, all he had to do was the tattered nomadic boots on his feet, except for the short-sleeved robe. He was penniless at this time, and Dath Befa's maternal grandfather might have been willing to help him if he was alive, but he refused to return to Dath Befa anyway, not so much out of dignity as as an escape. He walked aimlessly on the prairie, and at the same time lacked direction, at first he groaned for hunger, shivered at the cold of the night, and then he felt neither hungry nor cold, for by this time he was not much different from a corpse. Finally, one night, the night was vast and thick, he couldn't walk anymore, sat down and looked up at the night sky, for the first time he had a desire to see the stars, because when he was a child, his parents would often take him to the grassland to see the stars, memories bring power, illusion gives life, he tried his best to open his eyes, and felt that he could see farther and more clearly, but the night sky was still dark, deep and terrible, but he always felt that there was light in the depths and heights, but it had not yet appeared, so he stood up, as if this would help him go further, but after standing for a few seconds, he fell down, motionless。

When he was awakened by the harsh sunlight, he found himself in a small cabin, lying on a flat haystack, with no one around. He tried to struggle to his feet, but only clumsily knocked down the javelin on a nearby shelf, and it clicked. A young man pushed the door open and burst out laughing at Porcha's embarrassed smile. Pol saw that he was a descendant of the Kallads and Kujits, just like himself.

"You're finally awake. The young man smiled and told him as if he had met an old friend whom he had not seen for many years.

The young man told him that his name was Polgar, that he was a merchant, and that when he passed by the steppe, he found him fainting there, and rescued him. Porcha thanked him gratefully.

"Can you tell me your name?" he pulled a little bread out of his pocket and handed it to Porcha.

"Kind sir, my name is Porcha. Polcha took the bread and swallowed it, and Polgar laughed even more.

"Actually, I'm sure you can see that I'm the kind of person who escapes just like you. ”

Porcha nodded, he had no time to consider the contradictions of these identities, how could a drowning man not hold on tightly when he saw the drifting wood?

Those Kugits are bastards. Porcha swallowed the bread and suddenly scolded indignantly, just as he used to do.

"Yes, it does. Polgar no longer smiled, but changed to a sad face, "Some time ago when I was in business, I was robbed of a hunting horse by a horse dealer in Tulga, and it was a beautiful hunting horse with a scarlet mark on its forehead. He has the support of the lord, and I can't afford to be a small businessman. But that horse is important to me, can you help me steal it back?"

Porcha hesitated a little, because he had never been a thief, and he didn't really want to be a thief.

"They took the horse, they took our land, they drove our family..."Polgar furrowed his brow, carefully observing Porcha's expression.

"I'll do it. Porcha finally spoke, and he spoke calmly, as if he had seen through the ugliness of men.

"Put on this kugit armor and sneak in disguised as a recruit, and I wish you success. Polgar finally regained his smile and pointed to the tattered dress hanging on the wall.

When he had seen Porcha walk away, he whistled, and a stocky young man stepped out of the grove on the east side of the cabin.

"How do you know he'll come back?" the young man looked at Polgar with some confusion, "Selling Ramona for 50 dinars, it's not easy to make money in wartime." ”

"He'll be back. Polgar's eyes narrowed, and he said no more.

"But it would be nice to get that hunting horse, and it could be sold for a thousand dinars. The young man rubbed his hands, he knew that Polgar had never missed something, so he felt that the handful of dinar seemed to have arrived.

In fact, Polcha was already a little suspicious when he asked for help stealing the horse, but now when he thought about it on the road, he realized that Polgar was not a serious merchant at all. But where should he go now?" he smiled bitterly at last, and calmly went to the city of Tulga. Porcha had never stolen a horse at all, and as soon as he had taken it out of the stable, he was discovered, and he immediately mounted his horse and fled out of the city, where soldiers chased him, and he was unarmed and not very good at riding, and seemed to be caught soon.

Everyone has some kind of talent, but he has not yet realized it, and now Porcha is slowly realizing that his real talent lies in running. He was well versed in the topography of the steppe, and he seemed to be able to intuitively know where the most remote path was going without getting lost, just as a seasoned sailor could judge the direction of the wind with his fingers, and with this he outwitted his pursuers, and at last escaped them at a fork in the woods.

It was late afternoon when he found Polgar, and he was smiling at him panting and exhausted, like an animal trainer looking at a trapped beast in a cage.

"Welcome back. Polgar took the horse and handed him bread and ale.

Porcha took the food, but did not eat it immediately, he turned away, and the vast twilight stretched into the distance, and the divergent path was intricate in the gloomy and dark woods. He looked at the shadowy and somewhat unreal paths, and began to swallow heavily.