The two young men looked at each other, but it was Feljans who spoke first: "We are tired of life in Kalade. Pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info"

"How good could that be. The old man pursed his lips as if he were disdainful of Feljans' words, but his expression seemed to be defending some of his inviolable treasures.

"Come with me, did you see the village ahead?" the old man pointed to the blurred black silhouette in the distant sun, "stay there at night." ”

Both Feljans and Bhaskar nodded gratefully, they wanted to ask the old man for who he was and why he saved them, but they felt that it would be disrespectful to ask now.

At dusk, they finally arrived at the village.

Muhatdin felt very relieved when he was screaming in the scorching midday sun, like the old light infantry around him, back to the battlefield from which they had just escaped. There seemed to be no difference between him running back to the battlefield and him escaping from the battlefield, both of which he felt he should do. Those knight lords are really powerful, he just thought so, he can't run away. And now, when he saw those knight lords looking tired and depressed, he also felt natural. Yes, they are human too, and they will be tired, and this time it's up to us, so he shouted and ran, holding his bamboo spear steadily.

The "knight lords" they called were surrounded by several of them, and when they were not looking, they were picked off their horses by one of them, but none of them showed the gesture of running away, they still brandished their half-swords or maces, but they could no longer show any bravery, more like some kind of futile elegy.

In this way, he followed the old comrades-in-arms beside him, dexterously fiddling with the bamboo spear in his hand. It wasn't until they surrounded the last dying knight that he heard the knight's faint voice, and he knew some Karad, some of which he had learned during the war in the mountains of Rhodok. Curious, he stopped the people around him from reaching for the tip of his spear.

"He seemed to be talking. Muhatdin pointed to the knight who had fallen to the ground. The knight had shaved off the right side of his face, and his right arm had been cut off from the flesh, but he was still squirming his lips with all his strength, trying to make a louder sound.

"Hey Muhardin, is he begging for mercy?" the old light infantry around him let out a mocking laugh.

Hearing the ridicule of the Salanders around him, Machiko felt ridiculous and indifferent, he looked at his mutilated body, the pain had become numb, and he couldn't help but think back to the night when Feljans and Baska listened to the story in silence, the fire was strong and warm. He suddenly uttered the name of Reonxiro, until he saw the gray-eyed Salander put his ear close to his mouth.

"There's... Yes... Two young people, they'll ... will come. Please don't... No. It's mine... Armour... You—" He suddenly felt hopeless, as consciousness was blurred.

The last thing he heard was Karadis, with a strong mountain accent, a promise, though he couldn't tell it anymore. Promise was a distant thing for him, from the afternoon he threw the stone, etched into the days and nights he spent going back and forth on the desert, he was still muttering, and the memories became the color of the overturn, and finally blurred, the curtain of death to cover the color of his life. His head tilted to the side, and he didn't move anymore.

Muhdin began to skillfully peel off his armor, and the veterans around him were clamoring to hear the words of a Swadian begging for mercy.

"He said the armor was mine. Muhdadin laughed merryly, not noticing the disappointed expressions of the men.

They returned to Garmiedborg, where they regained their strength and tenacity after two nights of singing and drinking. Two days later, at noon, the watchman saw two Karadians, stark and lonely in the desolate desert. The Salander soldiers arrested the two young Karad, the soldiers looked at the helpless and panicked expressions of the two young men, and listened to the nervous and non-standard Salander, and only thought it was funny, they wanted to play a good trick on these two poor guys, after all, there is always not much fun in the boring military life. As they pretended to hang the two Karadians for interrogation, Muhdin appeared behind them, his thick, trademark laugh that stopped the soldiers, who had a deep respect for the veterans, who had a deep respect for them, though they didn't want to take them seriously. They made a way, and Muhddin told them that they were his friends and that he was going to take them away. The soldiers, though a little puzzled, laughed and joked about Muhaddin, saying that he, an old man of more than sixty years, still had this strange habit. Muhdin just smiled, untied them, and led them out of the castle to Sekuten.

In the evening, when they arrived at the village, the villagers bustled on their way home after a hard day's work, and the smoke of the cooking stove seemed to wave in welcome. Muhatdin walked unhurriedly through the crowd with the two young men, and the villagers greeted him humbly, and Muhdin always responded with a kind smile. They walked to a small mud hut at the edge of the village, beyond which was the endless desert and a few lonely palm trees. Muhdin pushed open the door and lit the oil lamp, and the room suddenly became bright, and the dust, which had been dormant for a long time, was disturbed and floated in the air. Muhdin cleaned the house and pointed to the firewood piled up at the door, and the two young men understood and came in with two large bundles of firewood. Muhdin muttered and carried another bundle out, causing the two young men to look at each other. After a while, the room seemed bright and clean, and the warm flames crackled slightly, changing their burning posture. A Salander and two Karadians sat together, and Muhdin brought bread and dates from outside, and the two young men devoured them.

"Name?" Muharddin said suddenly.

"My name is Feljans. Feljans swallowed the bread and whispered.

"Fei Ya Yangse. Muhhardin muttered a repeat, and Feljans blushed and laughed again.

"My name is Bhaska. Bhaskar was still chewing on the dates, his mouth bulging too much to swallow.

"Baseka. Muhhardin looked at the stocky young man beside him again, and laughed innocently, Feljans burst out laughing, and Bhaskar quickly covered his mouth, afraid that he could not help but laugh and shake the food out of his mouth.

They seem to have known each other for a long time and have a natural tacit understanding with each other, although they are silent, they always feel natural, comfortable and a little happy for this atmosphere. Feljans looked at the sleepy old man's face from the red light of the warm and bright flame, and felt as if he were in a different world, the joy and consternation of the reunion a few days ago, the tension and grief of the war, now turned into this vicissitudes of life but serene and innocent faces, and he felt that such a scene was extremely precious, and the constantly flickering and changing light of the fire made the scene have a certain dreamlike unreal color. He relaxed, feeling a wave of exhaustion. Baska beside him had fallen asleep. This may be life, and he feels as if he is in a dream, but this dream is exceptionally sweet and real. His eyelids drooped, and the whole world became blurred, but his thoughts had not stopped, and he was still looking forward to a life that could be started again.

"Yes, I used to be a Kalad, and my family lived on the fjord of Parabun, and then I went to war with the lords. I got lost with the army in a scuffle, and I came to this village alone, thanks to the villagers who saved me, and then I simply settled here, which is fine. ”

"What is your name, old man?"

"Me? Just call me Gore. ”

"Grandpa Gore, are you familiar with the uncle who brought us here?"

"Are you talking about Muhatdin? He's a veteran, and he helped me a lot when I first came, so when he's not in the village, I'll help him look around his house. ”

"It turns out that the good man's name is Muhatdin, and we haven't had time to ask his name yet. Fellyans felt a little guilty,

"Don't worry about that, thank him in Salan the next time he comes back." Gore smiled and asked, "Why are you here?"

Feljans was stunned for a moment, as if there was no present in his eyes, the reflection of the past flashed in one of the scenes, and his clear eyes clearly showed the fleeting, contradictory and conflicting feelings, but which had been acting on him for a long time, Gore no longer smiled, he understood this feeling.

In this way, Feljans and Baska settled in the village of Sekuten. Feljans put aside his role as a poet and followed Bascal to learn farm work, but his slender white hands were obviously unable to cope with it, and he was often ridiculed by Bascal. Sekuten depends on the nearby oasis for its survival, and farmland is scarce and precious. They helped the group work together during the day, and at night they learned Salanite with Gore. Baska was quick to think of ways to improve the dilapidated canals in the village, and he also invented a small machine that could pick dates faster, and the villagers were amazed at it, and there was not a single villager who did not like this stout and clever young man, even when he spoke incoherent Salande, and everyone only thought he was embarrassed and cute. Feljans, on the other hand, showed a talent for language, and even changed his former Karadian poems to Sarandian, the poet after all, and soon became a regular visitor to the wedding banquets and celebrations of the village, but he was more loved by young girls than Baska, and was therefore inexplicably jealous of many young people, but this was often resolved by his kind and gracious nature. However, Feljans still tried to learn how to use various farming tools from the villagers and Baska, and by the time he had cocoons in his hands, he could finally be called a barely qualified farmer.

The next morning, Muhardin quietly departed, waking up Feljans and Baska to an old man with a white beard, who looked older than Muhardin, but who spoke fluent Karadh and had a pure plain accent. It can also be seen from his appearance that the old man did not have the same high eyebrow bones as the Salanders, his jawbones were flat, and his nose was narrow and high. Both Feljans and Baska were a little surprised and curious.