The ceiling above his head seemed to be cracking, his forehead was constantly flowing with warmth, soaking his eyes, everything seemed to be bright red, and his nasal passages were full of flesh and feces, as well as the spicy smell of roasted meat. Pen Fun Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 ｉｎfo

Horn tried to move, but found that his hands and feet did not obey, and he felt that his legs were wet and he seemed to wet the bed.

"The young city lord is incontinent again, my lord. ”

A voice came into the eardrums, what seemed to be that of Little John. Fuck you incontinence, this damn voice is full of mockery, I really should have told that obnoxious monk to give you twenty more lashes, I'm the young lord of the dignified North City, how can I wet the bed?

But he was in so much pain that he didn't even have the strength to moan, so he could only close his eyes and lie in the filth he had discharged. There seemed to be someone next to him who was swearing in a thick voice, and he guessed it was his father's voice. His father rarely swears, and unlike Uncle Sersi, he was born noble, and Grandpa Andrew, whom he had never met, would never allow him to swear. After a while, the sounds around me faded away.

Everything in front of me seemed to have changed, and it was no longer bright red. He found himself at a dinner party for lords and envoys from all over the world, a hall that had never been so full, full of bards stroking the strings, singing carols, and begging for money, servants carrying plates to and fro in the crowd, bringing plates of gravy-fried onions, roasted suckling pigs, and large pieces of shredded lamb to the table, and in the midst of the cup and cup and drunken conversation, he saw his father on the high platform whispering to Aunt Mira.

The world was silent at first, but after a while, those familiar sounds reached the eardrums, soft and joyful. No one noticed him, not even his mother, who was sitting next to his father, who was now talking to Lord Mullen in a low voice, as if about Sulla's marriage.

Suddenly, a flock of crows poured in through the open windows and gates, and they were like raging dark clouds, taking everything away in an instant, and everything lost its color. The hall was shrouded in black and white, and the candlelight above his head shone on the still bodies, and he saw his father's face begin to rot, and maggots among them burrowed through the gradually darkening eye sockets, and the whole hall seemed to be turned into corpses in an instant.

Some people walked into the hall and they stripped the clothes and armor from the bodies of the deceased. The crow's whistling wiped out all the bright color of the armor, leaving only the monotonous decoration of gray or white, and the congealed black blood. He saw with his own eyes that a corpse had been stripped of its clothes, and it had instantly turned into a thick pool of black blood.

Why are there so many dead people, what happened to them? Many, many, many. Their bodies were lifeless, their faces stiff, horrible, swollen, sluggish, and unrecognizable. The heraldic rust on the chest of those garments was Dalton's wolf stripe, Elidu's oak leaves, ice snowflakes, Assyrian sickles, your flames, and sunshine, and the armor was new, but now it was scarred, porous, and tattered.....

He woke up in the dark. The outline of the room's furnishings blurred around him, and although the familiar green curtain was lowered, the moonlight still penetrated through, and it was not until he saw the mural hanging on the wall at the end of the bed in the dimness that he confirmed that this was his room, not Shenyuan.

I didn't die, and Shenyuan wasn't so terrifying. He thought.

The bed was warm, covered with a large pile of blankets and fur, but it was so damp that he couldn't tell if it was urine or sweat. I seemed to have a fever, he thought dizzily. So weak that even the movement of raising his hand would cause a sharp pain in his head, so he gave up the intention of getting out of bed and began to try to shout, but then found that no sound came from his throat. Am I deaf?" he thought again. But this idea was quickly dispelled, because there seemed to be the sound of winter birds outside the window. So, he began to think back to what had happened before he fell asleep, but he didn't remember anything until the sleepiness came again.

When he woke up again, the warm autumn sun was shining on his face, the green curtain had been pulled back, and little John was dozing off in his chair. He moved his feet, and immediately woke up the little one. But when the boy saw that he had opened his eyes, he did not say a word, but ran away, as if he had seen a sleeping monster awake.

Damn it, come back. Damn, next time I'll tell Old John to beat you to death. He thought viciously.

Soon, little John reappears, along with his mother, father, Uncle Selcy, Uncle Mike, Uncle Camille, Uncle Lawrence, Steven the Great Trickster, Aiden, Elder Eugene the Slow, and all the physicians in the castle.

The entire room was suddenly filled with people, and Elder Eugene wanted to step forward, but was preempted by the big liar. "Don't move, don't move, sir. He said softly, "You are seriously injured, and rash action is not good for your health. Are you thirsty?" and without waiting for an answer, he turned back, "Little John, go and pour a glass of water, quick." ”

Horn felt that his father had never been so gentle, and so had Uncle Sersi, and it seemed to take a great deal of effort for them to get him up from the bed, and then little John handed the glass of water to his mother. "Poor little Horn, can you hear your mother?" her tears seemed to burst out of her eyes at any moment.

Horn nodded, the saliva was more delicious than wine.

"Thank goodness, thank goodness. Elder Eugene muttered to himself. "Help me back to the temple," he said to a white-robed servant, "I'm going to thank Namu, thank you, thank you....."

"Look, I'll just say, how can a Dalton child fall so easily, haha!" said Uncle Selsey laughed.

"Horn, can you speak?" said his father, trying to maintain the majesty of the lord of the North City.

Horn nodded subconsciously, then tried to open his mouth. "I ..... Slept..... How many days?" his voice was like a mosquito flapping its wings, and it was hard to hear even when his mother was close at hand. "Sue ..... Second..... Ni ....."

"Your Excellency, you have been asleep for four days. His archery teacher replied, "Miss Sulla has returned to Sunshine City with Lord Mullen and left the day after you were wounded, as did Prince Sonny, who left the North City on the same day. ”

"God, what kind of ears are you?" exclaimed Sercy.

"I can lip-read, Lord Selcy. Aiden smiled awkwardly.

"Lord Lord," Steven, who was crouching beside the bed, stood up, "the blunt force did not hurt the skull, nor did it hurt the brain, and in two days, the young lord will be able to get out of bed and move, and in a week he will be back to normal." ”

Blunt force injury?Horn felt that these two words made his head hurt, and even the water fed by his mother became no longer sweet. He suddenly wanted to drink. Maybe a glass of wine will remind him of everything.

"Can you ride a horse in a week?" he heard his father ask.

"No, Kenny, he's hurt like this!" the mother cried out as she put down the silver spoon and her features tangled together.

Steven looked around at the lord and his wife, not knowing whether to answer the question.

"He is the heir of the North City and the only heir to the Dalton family. Father's tone was cold, "If you don't experience war, if one day Beicheng faces a great enemy, what will he do to defend the citizens who pay taxes to him?"

"But—"

"Say no more. The father interrupted the mother, left the bedroom, and left the bedroom.