The slums were noisy early in the morning, and sturdy laborers in tattered burlap clothes rushed to the docks to get to work, while their loud and stocky wives huddled in front of the bakery and chatted about the trivia of their neighbors. In short, this kind of life has always been regular and ordinary.

The consuls did not expect these greedy, and because the taxes had accumulated and the disgruntled poor had stored too much food, the fat baker had to waste his time every day in a slow-moving carriage from the other side of the city. Each time he would bring a cart full of freshly baked brown bread, but the quantity was always as prescribed by the consuls. In other words, to put it more clearly, it is to feed these poor people, but there is not much left. In this case, if a peasant woman wants to buy a large amount of bread, she needs to be guaranteed a status citizen.

The rough-looking, sturdy peasant women lined up on the half-rotted planked path, but a sturdy horse galloping from a distance made them scream and choose to get out of the way. Riding a swift horse was a soldier of Longinus in the red striped uniform of the garrison, and after shouting for the peasant woman to clear the way, he immediately whipped the sweaty warhorse** to make it speed up a little more.

The horseshoe thumped loudly against the broken stone bricks and old planks, and then the cavalry drove the mount through a long puddle of water, turning the stagnant water, which had finally cleared up in the calm, to a dull turn with agitation. Drops of water flowed and shook off the short brown hairs of the horse's belly, and finally shattered with a rare glitter in the shadows on the unsightly stone slabs with black dead moss like death.

The cavalry disappeared into the street like a whirlwind, but insults and quarrels rang out in the long lines that he had disrupted. Some of the peasant women took the opportunity to squeeze the shop, but their companions, who were supposed to be in front of them, were very unhappy.

The slums were much safer in the scorching sun than at night, so the soldiers of the garrison reached the commercial area outside the inner city safely after two prayers. The temporary quarters of the sheriff and the garrison were here. Two low-ranking nobles had jurisdiction over the garrison at the same time, even though the garrison officer was nominally in charge of the militia. Of course, the sheriff also has a team of two dozen men under his command, who are usually responsible for the security of the business district.

Because it was only the second hour of the scorching sun, the two lowest-ranking nobles of Long Yinus had not yet woken up from the drunkenness of last night. The soldier, knowing the urgency of the situation, did not wait, and after asking for a basin of water, the bold soldier woke the garrison officer with a piece of light brown linen. Cold, clean water poured down his forehead, wetting his short hair and eyebrows and sliding down his cheeks onto the burlap sheets.

"What a naughty chick, haven't you tasted my awesomeness yet, Lord Sir?" the burly, but not fat, middle-aged yellow-haired garrison officer rolled over awkwardly, muttering a mumbled breath of wine from his mouth half-covered by a pretty beard.

Seeing that the officer was still nostalgic for last night's **, the soldier could only grit his teeth and pour a basin of water down. "Who is it? What bastard?" the soldier had already taken the opportunity to move away a little as Sir jumped up and roared like a beast.

"Sir Sir, the lancers of the Northern Legion have been killed by the barbarians. Seeing the furious pupils that seemed to be surging with scorching magma staring at him, the soldier immediately reported as quickly as he could.

The dripping water from his hair dripped, dripping from his sackcloth shirt, and Jazz punched the soldier in the stomach as he wiped the water off his face, causing him to lie on the ground and retch. "Damn it. Don't those bastards know how to be more restrained?!"

"There's even worse news. The soldier clutched his abdomen with one hand and squeezed out words from between his teeth. "Now they are waiting in the 'ambergris' for the mediation of the Count's consul. ”

"How many people are there, and who was killed?" the garrison officer, who sat on the edge of the bed and put on his boots in a mess, hurriedly shook the drops from his hair. "Expect not to be the brutal general's subordinates. ”

"Outside the tavern there were three dozen horses and a squad of soldiers belonging to us. In addition, there are ** female bosses, maids and cooks of 'ambergris'. The soldier almost snapped his fingers at the memory, after all, the previous series of events had almost stunned him. "The big ** girl said, it was a lancer who was killed. And also had his head cut off. ”

"Blessed by the platinum dragon god. The garrison almost fell to the floor in surprise, and he reached for the door frame and took a few breaths before he whispered something like this.

.......................................

The aristocratic officials of Carrasen proved to be quite conscientious, and the consul Count of Lytonus and several Mercenus officers of the Dragoninus arrived in front of the tavern in less than two hourglasses. Considering the elaborate rituals and decrees, the centurion thought that this was proof that the Earl was a nobleman of good character.

The Quaids, accustomed to long periods of unrest on the icefield, did not change much, but the lancers quickly became tired during the two hourglasses after dawn. The merchant children who followed Truss, the heir to the viscount, were not very brave, in fact they were only selected to join the barracks and use them to help the family caravan. The barbarian general had only agreed to join the army because the merchant had provided hundreds of sets of fine chain mail woven with iron rings.

"Tell me what happened? I don't want this to happen to a city that has been sending a steady stream of huge taxes to His Excellency the Grand Duke. The Count sat down in a carriage with a gloomy face, and asked in a terrifying voice like the whispers of the undead. "You must know that there are more than two hundred barbarians in the inner city, and I cannot refuse any of their requests until the arrival of the brigade of soldiers of the Northern Legion. ”

"It's because of the dispute between the two ** officials, they are both the ** of the female boss. The garrison officer wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead and explained slowly in a respectful tone. "One of them was a centurion of mercenaries, and the other was the eldest son of Viscount Licona, who was now the first heir. ”

"It's a terrible thing. The Count changed his comfortable position and leaned against the wall of the carriage and squinted. "Did those reckless guys send someone to explain?"

"I've been here just now, it's the centurion. He used to be a cavalryman in the Northern Legion, so he didn't want to provoke his former generals and comrades. The garrison straightened up even more in fear, and even his calves and throat trembled. He said a group of sailors had taken part in the fight and were now hiding in the slums to escape punishment. ”

"A smart man. The Count sighed and moved his fingers, and the old man sat up straight and quickly wrote a decree on the small table in the carriage. "Go get those sailors. Remember, they were the murderers of the Duchy's cavalry. (To be continued.) )