It's hard to imagine what it would be like for a city that has been scattered to suddenly be subjected to unprecedented pressure. Depressed, dull, bored, complaining, many of the merchants stranded in Kugil will tell you the most obvious answer.

"Sheriff Gadore is a madman. This sentence was quietly circulated in the mouths of many merchants, although they did not dare to say it blatantly, but they could not stop the vicious curses of these merchants who traveled from south to north. But they do have a reason to complain, and the gates of Kugil's town have been largely paralyzed these days, not because there are too many merchants coming in and out, resulting in congestion, but because of the guards' insanely detailed investigation.

If you're carrying too much cargo, sorry, we need to see if there are Tibetans in the gaps. If you have a large encapsulated wooden box in your car, sorry, we need to see what exactly is inside. If you refuse? Well, Kugil's prison has a place to be there and you're welcome to come at any time! What's more, if you have young lads in your ranks, congratulations, you'll be here for a little longer, because you'll be carried out alone, waiting for an unknown guy to identify and confirm that nothing is right before you can be released.

Some people even rumored that the sheriff's favorite male pet suddenly disappeared, which is why he made such a big move, as for the official statement, such a move is to arrest the suspect in the fire at the Leaping Goat Hotel, which is just a cover for shame. Of course, Gadore would not know about these rumors, and even if some of his subordinates heard them, they would only tell the increasingly crazy adult, after all, no one wanted to add fuel to the fire at this time.

As a result, the town of Kugir was overcrowded for a number of reasons, and the inns in the town, large and small, were full, and all the taverns and brothels were full of business, and some merchants who could not find a place to settle even set up tents in the open air as temporary residences. This made the shopkeepers very happy, and they kept praying that the sheriff would be mad for a few more days, so that their purse bags would be a little more bulging.

In addition to the complaining Lord Gatore, there is another person who has been on fire these days, and he is a troubadour from the provinces. Unlike other peers who chant more heroic epics or classical mythological tales. This handsome man who calls himself "Joe" will always sing only about great love, whether it is a poignant tragedy or a joyful and funny comedy, a beautiful story accompanied by Shiqin, softly sung under his delicate mustache, which always catches everyone's ears.

The sun rises and sings and the sun sets, and the three gold coins seem to be sky-high for a day, and from the initial lack of interest to the later scramble, many tavern owners even fight for it, for them, the oil and water scraped from the drinkers attracted by Joe is far more than three gold coins. The troubadour was given a new nickname, "Lover Joe".

The troubadour, of course, was Betma, who spent days in Kugil collecting news for the people, and although he was an orphan, he was very musically gifted from an early age, and he was of course familiar with the favorite troubadour of the poor. But even so, he never thought that he would earn gold coins with this, and even be sought after.

When Solweran and his party saw the gold coins that Betma had earned, everyone looked surprised and said that you might as well change your career to become a troubadour, maybe there will be a good musician in the Kingdom of Orem in the future. Of course, this was a joke, but Betma did have a moment when she felt like a troubadour.

On this day, the evening sunset was lying lazily on the horizon in the western sky, and the soft warmth was like a woman's red lips, gently kissing the dying day, and the town of Kugir under the sky. Tinting everything with a glamorous, melancholy, vivid orange hue.

In a tavern in the town, near the window, dark green bottles and glasses were plated red, and the man behind the wine cabinet was gently wiping the wine glass in his hand, and he stood there, like everyone else in the hall, looking at a man in obsession.

The man held the lyre, his slender fingers jumping on the strings, plucking a song like water, which flowed gently in the quiet space with his lyrics. It's a tearful narrative poem, a chant of a bystander, but it draws everyone into it, as if experiencing everything in the song. No one spoke, just listened quietly.

"She is a beautiful stone statue,

The spring stream flowed beside her,

Autumn leaves weave into her clothes.

......

Some people say that she is a girl who has lost her lover,

Some say she is the bride who has lost her groom.

Some people say that this is the paradise where she met him,

Some say it's where she says goodbye to him.

......

The stars disappear in the cemetery on the edge of the sky,

The sun sinks into the mountain beams of the bleak sooth.

Watch, watch,

Aging love watches over the direction of the heart.

......

She is still waiting for the lover in her heart,

The one will say to her:

Others will love the reflection of your youth,

Only I will love the wounds left by your years. ”

As the last note faded from the strings, and the whispered chant faded away in the tavern, the man took up the lyre, stood up, and bowed to the crowd who were still in the music. Soon, the people who came to their senses gave the most enthusiastic applause to the miraculous troubadour.

"Sing it again, okay, my lover?" begged a bewitching woman wiping tears from her eyes with a handkerchief, "just one, and my heart will be torn apart by you......"

Betma chuckled implicitly, and before he could speak, the tavern guests immediately returned to their usual appearance. "Shut up!**If your heart is torn apart by pure love, then the noble lord who is high up is the most merciful and good man in the world!hahaha......" A man said loudly, and everyone was amused and coaxed loudly.

"Shut up, you vulgar idiot......" the woman cried out in discontent, then turned her head and glanced at Betma with a sultry look, "Come to my house tonight, dear, okay? ”

"Oh, oh, somebody's going to be free!!!!" someone said in the midst of even greater laughter.

Betma put Shiqin in her chair and walked over to the woman with a smile. "Beautiful lady, I can't give you your ...... request" As he spoke, the woman's expression was clearly disappointed, and just as she was about to speak, she saw Betma's hands clasped together in front of her, and with a slight flip, a bright rose appeared in her hand. "But I can give you this, I believe, and it matches your beauty. ”

The woman took the rose in surprise, her eyes overflowing with tenderness that could not be dissolved. "Oh my lover, you are the best ......"

Betma took a step back, bowed to the crowd once more, then picked up the lyre and walked to the door amid a shout of applause. Just as he was about to walk out of the tavern, a drunken man with a blank eye slipped through the door and collided with Betma violently. "See,...... You, don't you have long eyes when you walk?" the drunkard swayed and scolded loudly.

Betma was stunned for a moment, but quickly stepped out of the way and said, "I'm sorry, this gentleman ......" and walked out of the tavern by mistake. He glanced back with some hesitation, and quickly disappeared into the alley opposite.

When Betma returned to the blacksmith shop in Mirza, he couldn't help but laugh at the sight. It turned out that Sovereign and the others were being dragged by Thomas and Kuhl, putting on makeup on their faces and even changing their clothes.

Sovereign was smiling wryly as Thomas smeared black ash on his face, his hair unkempt, like a chicken coop that had just been swept away. "Thomas, for the sake of the Lord God, it's okay, it's just a matter of trying on makeup, and you don't need to put a thick layer of black ash on your face, right?" he said, wiping it with his hand, revealing a patch of white skin.

"Your Highness, don't wipe it when you leave town tomorrow...... Otherwise, no one will believe that you are an apprentice in the blacksmith's shop!" Thomas immediately added.

Betma smiled and circled around Soveland. "Thomas is right, if anyone sees your skin, which is fairer than a girl, we can only raise our hands and surrender at once. With that, he walked up to Tandra again, "My lord, you are a real blacksmith in this outfit!"

Tandra laughed and waved his hand, but he was actually very happy with his outfit. Loose old clothes, bronze muscles exposed to the air, beard like steel needles, you can imagine the blacksmith as Tandra is now. "Lord Sean's outfit is the easiest thing to believe!"

Old Sean wore a gray monk's robe, a rough rope around his waist and prayer beads of order, a cloak and a shoulder hood, and with emaciated cheeks and a silver-white beard, he was a priest of order who could not have been more realistic. "I hope the Lord God will forgive me for my sin of pretending to be a priest......" he said with a smile as he clutched a deadwood staff.

"Yes, yes, my lord, the Lord God will forgive you. "Besides, you're a Knight of Order yourself, and even if you say you're a priest, you're not pretending. Your understanding of doctrine is much better than that of an ordinary pastor. ”

"Bertma, how is the situation outside today?" asked Paislin after a moment's moment.

"It's still the same, the sheriff is already driving his men crazy, and there are all kinds of rumors out there right now. What's more, those guards can't stand it anymore, and they are quietly lazy whenever they have the opportunity. In fact, it is understandable how those lazy guys can endure such hardship. Betma took a sip of mead, his throat was dry and smoking, "By the way, what role are you two going to play?" he asked Thomas and Kull.

"Is there a better option, O vicarus of the Holy See, student of Lord Sean?" replied Kuhl excitedly, as if it were not a dangerous escape, but a fun masquerade ball.

Thomas nodded beside him. "In my spare time, I have also signed up to study theology, philosophy, and mainland history!" he said, "If I don't join the garrison, I hope I can become a scholar." ”

"You're going to have a dream come true, Thomas, and trust me. Sovereign said.

"Thank you, my Highness!" said Thomas, cheerfully.

It wasn't long before Mirza came out of the workshop, holding a long sword wrapped in a black scabbard in both hands and walking up to Essaoweran. "Your Highness, I'm afraid I won't have the opportunity to stay with them with you and continue your journey in the future. His voice was low and bitter, and if he could, he wanted to step on his horse again and fight for loyalty if he could. "But I will always be a soldier of the kingdom, this is the only thing I can do now, let this sword take my place and guard you. ”

"Mirza......" Soveran whispered, seeing the most sincere strength in the eyes of the loyal veteran. "Thank you, Mirza, thank you......" Then he reached out his hands and took the sword.

The leather-wrapped scabbard exudes a heavy, rough texture in Sovereign's hand, the emblem of order is carved into the place where the white steel cross gauntlet links to the jaw, the lower end of the handle is finely wound with leather ropes, and the round head is carved into the shape of a solid crown. With a long, watery sound, the sword shimmering with a cold luster was drawn.

Sovereign held the long sword in his hand and stood in front of him, his gaze slowly rising with the blade. Elegant, sharp, perfect, deadly, you can praise this sword with every word imaginable. With a flick of his wrist, Sovereign saw his face in the bright sword, and in the slot forged by the hammer with the handle, he saw an inscription on the sword—the Sword of the Draxa Loyal Guard.

"I will pray before the Lord God, and may the light of order shine forever and protect you. Mirza looked at the people around him and said softly, "No matter the ends of the earth, no matter hell or heaven, I will always be a veteran of the Kingdom Guard, as long as I hear your call, even if I use this pair of lame, I will rush to your side." ”

Tandra walked over, hugged Mirza hard, and hammered him twice on the back. No one speaks, and in the same way, no one knows what the road ahead holds, but there are always some faiths in this world that are worth chasing for a lifetime, and the fate is like that, and the truth is like that.

As the night grew darker, the small window of the blacksmith's shop shone in the warm light of the fire, and the old song of Elolin drifted gently to the distant sound of the piano, and it sang:

We drink youth and experience spring and winter.

We celebrate love because fate is impermanent.

......

At the end of the night, we will drive away the unforgivable evil from the Pure Land.

At the beginning of the dawn, we saw the glorious and brilliant Supreme Paradise.

In the name of Somuel, you are the supreme king.

In Somu's name, you are the most devout of faith.

......

In the horn of rust and bone, we are ready to die on the battlefield.

In the banner of blood and sword, we are ready to defend the vast frontier.

In the name of Somu, please bury my broken body gently.

In the name of Somu, please bring my departed soul back to my homeland.

......

We drink youth and experience spring and winter.

We celebrate love because fate is impermanent.