Due to the special geological structure, the wind and sand in the brown hills never stop for a moment, but in the late summer of the year, with the alternation of hot and cold air, the rainfall decreases, and the wind weakens, resulting in rare sunny weather. For the indigenous people of this land, this time is also known as the Festival of Fire.

On the days of the Festival of Fire, the inhabitants of the browned hills will tacitly lay down their butcher knives and go out of their homes to enjoy the scorching sun, while taking out the goods they have looted and not needing, and exchanging ideas with their good neighbors who have just met each other in life and death. This period was a time of peace for all races and powers, which gradually evolved into unwritten rules.

Every 10 years, the water level of the Thorn River, which runs through the brownland hills, soars, bringing a rare lease of life to the land. And this time coincided with the Fire Festival of that year, so an even grander festival was formed, the Sahara Fire Conference.

The purpose of the festival of fire is different from that of peacetime. The once-in-a-decade Sahara Flame Conference is a stage for the many forces of the brownland hills to show their strength. In this borderland, there is a drama of grudges and vendettas all the time, and ten years is enough time to bring about earth-shaking changes in the major powers. The new leader needs such an opportunity to come together and redraw spheres of influence. How much cake can be shared, naturally everyone has to speak according to their strength.

However, since the Festival of Fire is a rare truce, it would be a little embarrassing for everyone to get together and fight, so the way to show their strength later became more elegant, and it looked more like a performance to cheer up the festival. For example, several bigwigs in the bandit industry, their way of showing their strength is naturally to compare who is more valuable in the goods they rob at this time.

Three hundred kilometers away from the trade route traveled by the exiles, in a sheltered valley in the middle of the brownland hills, a branch of the underground river of the Thorn River was hidden. Because the terrain is easy to attack and difficult to defend, no single force has been able to occupy this water source for long in the past few hundred years. Over time, it became a neutral zone for all parties to acquiesce.

The strongholds in the valley have developed into settlements of hundreds of people, and no matter what the circumstances, as long as human social relations exist, there will never be a shortage of the two oldest professions, thieves and prostitutes, and the business of the two has become the basic element of the tavern.

Roger never trusted strange taverns, because when he was younger, he once had the painful experience of being drunk and dragged into a small dark room by the tavern owner to make a ji. It's only to blame that he gave birth to a face that is more beautiful than a woman, so that those rough men who haven't seen a woman for many years can't control it at all. 【Starter】

Although this experience is only once, when he cut off the boss's ** and balls and hung them at the door, and then slashed himself in the face, no one ever troubled him again...... Still, he kept it in his mind and took it as a warning.

Pushing open the door of the tavern, a pungent stench of inferior alcohol mixed with the strenuous exercise of men and women suddenly hit his face, Roger frowned, held his breath, and secretly congratulated himself on the face veil early. It wasn't the first time he had been in this tavern, but he would never be able to stand the filth of the place.

Many malicious glances swept over, but they quickly dispersed when they saw the scimitar at his waist. Masked men who wrap themselves in rice dumplings in the brown hills are everywhere, but there is only one masked man with the golden scimitar - and that is Roger, the leader of the Ghost Wolf Thieves. His former nickname was Beauty, but then the people who called him like that all died, and his nickname naturally changed.

The tavern maid with plump breasts and fat buttocks brushed aside the customer's groping pig hands, came to Roger, bowed her head respectfully and said, "My lord, your guests have arrived, and they are still in the old place......

"Got it, I'll go by myself. Roger waved his hand impatiently, motioning for the maid not to disturb him. He sped through the bar, kicked open the hidden door in the wall, and stepped into the secret passage.

However, all such unclean taverns have always built additional secret passages and secret rooms, which can be used for smuggling goods, harboring suspects, secret negotiations, and all kinds of shady things.

Roger walked into the secret room and saw that most of the guests he had invited had arrived. An old man with a black beard on his face was tired of being with another coquettish-looking noblewoman, and he was talking about sensual love with his eyebrows. An ogre two meters tall and two meters away from his waist sat in the corner, holding a huge leg bone that he didn't know what to do. The middle-aged businessman who was sitting at the table with his shirt looked well-dressed and polite, but since he could sit here, he naturally wouldn't be a good person.

"Wow, little Roger, you're finally here! The noblewoman, who was tired of the old man's side, was the first to notice Roger's footsteps, raised her eyebrows and let out a delicate laugh.

"Isn't it good to be upset?" the old man with the black beard wiped his saliva and smiled maliciously: "Poisonous widow, why don't we go upstairs to do some business first, and then come back and listen to this kid's nonsense? Daddy let you know what old and strong are!"

"Bah, Daddy, you're getting thicker. The poisonous widow took a sip, ignoring Blackbeard's teasing, and looked at Roger with watery green eyes, consciously or unconsciously straightening her choppy white chest.

"Young people don't eat your way these days, Poison Widow. The middle-aged businessman sitting on the side sneered: "If you want to seduce Brother Roger, why do you have to give up your precious daughter." ”

"If you want to say that in this ravine within a radius of hundreds of miles, the only one who can be worthy of my daughter is little Roger. As long as he nods, what's not to do?" The poisonous widow rolled her eyes at the middle-aged businessman, and said coquettishly: "It's you, a black-eyed profiteer, why do you sell favors to my daughter?"

The ogre looked up at the group, his throat bulging, but he didn't speak, and continued to bow his head and gnaw at his bones.

Roger watched the cynicism between several people with a cold eye, and was unmoved by the poisonous widow's flattery. The few people sitting here now, although they don't seem to be very obtrusive, are actually all bigwigs who have the right to speak in this land. These old fellows are more cunning than the other, and every word that comes out of their mouths has venom, and anyone who is stupid enough to believe it will be eaten at once without a bone.

"Why haven't Hawkeye and the Shepherd come yet?" asked Roger, who glanced around and saw that the people had not yet arrived.

"Hawkeye, the idiot, took refuge below, and the shepherd seemed to be mad again. The poisonous widow put away her coquettish smile and stretched out her finger to point to the ground, while showing a puzzled expression on her face: "An idiot, a madman, it doesn't matter if you come or not." Little Roger, with me, Daddy Blackbeard, Goldhand, and Grum here, I can already speak in place of the Southern Forces. You put so much effort into contacting everyone, don't treat us as beggars~"

"The two of them are not here, I'm afraid we won't be able to eat. Roger sneered, shook his head and said.

"That's a bit of a big deal. Daddy Blackbeard put down the wine glass in his hand, looked at Roger coldly, and said with a disdainful smile on his face: "Boy, your qualifications are still young, you must maintain respect for your seniors." If you are judging others by your own small team, you are a little too arrogant. ”

"Blackbeard, you're still so violent. The merchant, nicknamed the Golden Hand, shook his head and said, "Why don't you want to think about the good side? Whether the judgment of the Roger brothers is wrong or not, at least it can be said that there is indeed a big fat sheep." ”

"This sheep is indeed fat enough, but it is also hard enough, can it be gnawed...... You can measure it for yourselves. Roger took a roll of parchment from his sleeve and placed it on the table. The poisonous widow smiled at Blackbeard and Goldhand, picked up the parchment first, cleared her throat and began to read.

"The refugees in exile in Isttalon numbered more than six thousand, the vast majority of them women and children, more than one thousand soldiers and mercenaries, and countless wagons and goods......"

Although it was only rough information, when these numbers were read out, everyone's faces couldn't help but change. As Roger said, this is a fat sheep that is beyond imagination, enough to strangle people to death.

"The Sahara Flame Conference is coming soon, and the form of our south this year is not very optimistic......" Roger carefully observed everyone's reactions, and said slowly: "If we can eat this fat sheep, the faces of those bastards will be very exciting." ”

"It's a godsend. The excitement on Dianjinshou's face couldn't be concealed, he knocked on the table, and said in a low voice: "Since there are so many soldiers escorting, the oil and water in this must not be small." ”

"I didn't say it, fuck it!" Blackbeard screamed as he slapped the table. Even the ogre, who was sitting in the corner with his head down and gnawing on his bones, snorted.

"What a surprise, little Roger. The poisonous widow put the parchment down, stared into Roger's eyes and smiled, "But...... I don't think it's going to be that simple, right?"

Although her voice was not loud, it calmed down the excited Blackbeard and the Golden Hands in an instant. Although the poisonous widow is a woman, she is also the most delicate in her mind, and she often thinks more about problems than others.

"If I can eat alone, why should I contact everyone? Roger put away the parchment and sneered, "You only saw the women and the goods, didn't you notice the first word on it? They are Isttalons! Fifteen hundred heavily armed Istalene warriors!"

"Istalons...... Damn it. Blackbeard rolled his eyes, silently picked up his cup, and said no more.

"Not only Istalen, but also ruthless enough. Roger sighed and smiled wryly: "Do you remember Scar Willy's gang, the Istalens killed them all in less than ten minutes, chopped up the corpses and fed them to the dogs, and piled up their heads and set them on fire...... Their commander must have been a mad madman. (Go to read OM) (Jiangsu Net)