The scorching sun, which is about to disappear into the shadows, hangs in the west like a fried egg yolk, like a picture scroll painted with heavy oil paint. The quiet woods and the barely visible cascading hills in the distance swayed vaguely at the bottom, adding a repentant pity to the light from the Radiant Eye. The silver moon that had just risen in the east also showed a semicircle in the sky like a broken biscuit, rising upwards like a straight column of gray smoke in the village.

The village of Longinus, near the creek, should have been as peaceful as it had been. Although the farmer needs to pay more for food this year, he can still go on. However, the remnants of the army that arrived here from the east with Silvermoon caused the village to be sacked. The hungry and thirsty soldiers who had fled from Hed Castle broke open the village gates like robbers, knocked down a few farmers who rushed out of their houses with their weapons, and then took over the small village.

"I am Sir Alan Morley, a nobleman of the Westlands loyal to the Grand Duke of Sebstan. Now bring out the bread and wine, man. My companion needs food and a good night's sleep. The only knight with a black coat of arms on his shield in the remnants of the nearly 100 men shouted. Although the ruined nobleman didn't even have the money to repaint the oak shield, Riga could tell it was a sturdy black-maned boar.

Sir Morley and the fierce-faced soldiers around him convinced the villagers to give in, and they soon relinquished several large houses and brought bread and hot soup in wooden barrels. "We're just civilians farming, knights. It's been a long time since we've tasted ale, and now the ever-heavier taxes are almost overwhelming the villagers. The old man, who claimed to have served as a squire to a nobleman in his youth, knelt down and kissed his boots stiffly as if he were wood, and then he struggled to get up with his wooden cane and muttered.

Sir 'Black-Maned Boar' showed no surprise, and he sat down at the wooden table with his mouth in his mouth - the smell of some roasted rye bread had already made his stomach squirm strongly, and he began to eat without even praying to the gods. The soldiers were pleased with the boiling soup with potante and shallots, but the warriors, who had escaped the goddess of death and pain and the clutches of the gods of the underworld, soon became agitated again.

"Some more soup! Ryujin is on top, and that's only what I've gotten since the last Silver Moon. "A farmer re-baptized by war first tapped the wooden spoon on the barrel of soup. They ate like hyenas with shriveled bellies, and in a dozen breaths they dipped the bread they had assigned to them into a thick soup and pounded it down their throats with a spoon.

"No, we don't have enough food. There are so many of you that you can only find enough food in the small town of Kabui, more than five miles to the east. The village elder replied as stiffly as a block of wood blackened in the wind and rain. Ever since he learned about the fall of Castle Head, the old man had maintained this expression.

"Hell, do you know how many people there are in that town? We can't even squeeze in!" a farmer in a bloodstained coat jumped up. Pull out the weapon and put it around the old man's neck. "Old ghost, we just need food. You should pray that no one needs a woman or wealth yet. Do you see the barbarians? If they're not satisfied, the village will be turned into a lit torch. The soldier roared, driven mad by the killing. His dragon inus spoke quickly and urgently, with a curly tongue tone that belonged to the west of the Grand Duke.

Fortunately the old man understood, and his eyes were fixed on Sir Morry, and his cheeks trembled and he nodded when he noticed that the nobleman was silent. "I'll ask the villagers to bring some more food, but please don't hurt the women and children, and don't make the barbarians angry. ”

"Go. The soldier yelled at the elder, and then he returned to the tub and shoved the last bit of mushy soup into his mouth with a spoon, even though there was a harsh, sharp grinding sound of crushing grit between his teeth.

Riga still has a dozen Doquid warriors left by his side. And most of them were tribal warriors who believed that he was willing to obey him. The barbarians were now seated on a long wooden table under his leadership. Quietly drank the hot soup and swallowed the macerated bread down his throat. The words that came out of the mouth of the dragon enus sounded to the hunter like the cry of a flock of sheep. Still, he could guess the soldier's words from the frightened eyes of the villagers. Both Sir Martin and the aristocratic poet had explained this to the Quaids: that no one dared to anger these savage aliens, so they became a word on the lips of some that was synonymous with threat.

But this time the barbarians found the rebels, and the village elder did not return after he walked out of the room, and even the food he promised was not brought into the house. After a time of prayer. A few impatient soldiers threw the empty wooden bowl on the pine table and got up from the stool cursing. They drew their weapons from the newfound belt around their belts and rushed to the door like fierce calves to pull it away.

"Damn old man, you move more ...... than a snail," the soldier at the front shouted, until an arrow flew into his mouth and made him swallow back the words that were about to spit out. The rest of the farmers looked out in shock, and when they tried to open their mouths to warn, they were knocked down by seven or eight arrows fired in succession. The round was even accompanied by rockets, which burned as soon as they were nailed to the wooden doors and walls.

"Damn it, may the dragon god curse them, these traitors!" the dragon enus soldiers in the wooden house immediately dodged the door or overturned the wooden table and hid behind. But instead of attacking them, the enemy fired the next round of arrows at the house. "They are trying to burn us!" said Sir Morley, snarling angrily, but he found that his shield had been left outside, and the other horseless infantry had already thrown their heavy oak shields to the Harrison behind them.

Several soldiers rushed out with stools, but as they were about to squeeze out of the wooden door, two leather bags were thrown and fell into the flames. Losing the stopper, the liquor burst and poured on the flames. Accompanied by a dizzying vapor of alcohol. The rapidly igniting flames crawled up the soldiers' bodies like pythons, winding around them a few times before causing them to roll in the flames with a scream.

Thick smoke began to appear in the house, and the soldiers began to cough violently. The only wooden door was also engulfed in flames, and the monster's monstrous mouth opened in horror. Looking at the corpses still twitching in the flames, Riga swallowed the last bit of soup from the wooden bowl, then stood up and patted the wall. The wooden walls were burning on the outside, but they were only warm to the touch.

"Knock it out! But first lift a table, we need to fend off the arrows. The hunter shouted back, and then he raised his tomahawk and draped it over the plank. Brute force stronger than ever poured out of the arm, and the barbarians controlled it to pierce through the walls. A wave of heat immediately erupted from the breach, and several other warriors slammed through the planks with their hammers and axes, sending the flickering rays of fire into the room. Then the group of samurai ducked to the side, watching as their companions rushed over and easily smashed it away with the long pine table.

ps：

Thank you book friends for not being able to steal the monthly pass.