When a couple of businessmen dressed up appeared, I knew they were finished. High-speed updates ..

A few of them pretended to be on the road, riding sturdy mountain horses like the merchants were used to: adaptable, able to walk on all terrain. But if you look closely, you can see that these people are riding horses of Salander blood, with strong bodies and powerful hooves, and mud is flying under the trampling. The men exchanged heads and ears at the fork in the road, as if discussing who to chase.

At this time, several knights around me all looked at me thoughtfully. The look made me feel ashamed, and at the same time I felt a disgust for the Count, who had hitherto either used me as a decoy or as a hostage to exploit. Why did he think I would be satisfied with his arrangement? Why can't I go on a study tour in a foreign country like everyone else, and then come back and take over some positions with dignity? He said he valued me, but never sent me to the right place, and he said he didn't like Richard and them, but which time was he not partial to them?

The cavalrymen patted their mounts on the neck, and the horses under their crotches began to get excited, and before the charge, the riders had their own movements, and these horses were also familiar with the orders of their masters. We quietly moved to the edge of the forest, getting closer and closer to the main road. Six of us riders moved to each side, and a net moved towards the 'merchants' outside. There were four of them, with five horses.

Even at this point, I had a vague expectation that these people weren't scouts sent by the Romanovs, and I hoped they really just happened to pass by.

The cavalry leader drew his saber and reached forward with his backhand, pointing the blade upwards and pointing the tip of the knife at the sneaky guys in front of him. Several cavalrymen around him took out their sabers and pointed the tips of their swords at those people. Seeing this, I drew my weapon: a somewhat heavy long horse saber, scarred from the handle. I didn't have the strength to lift the knife, and my hands, which had been tied up some time ago, still hurt so much, I carried the knife on my back and rested it on my shoulder, as soon as the order was given. I'll charge with them. It's definitely not going to be slower than anyone else.

The leader clamped his legs, urging the horse to slowly begin to accelerate. The cavalry on both sides spread out like the wings of a bird, and then followed closely. I sat on my horse waddling, ready to attack my target.

The blades of grass were blown and the wind slid in my ears.

Joey. The thought of the name swelled up in my heart with a surge of anger, he once told me. When charging, you should completely forget about the situation on both sides and give the flanks to your comrades, so that you can go forward and plunge a sharp knife into the enemy's chest or stab the enemy in the belly with a spear.

The horse's light trot turned into a roaring tap. The sound of thumping hooves resounded through the woods. The light outside the forest grew brighter and brighter, and one of my last thoughts flashed through me: Joey couldn't charge anymore.

The sabre was shining brightly, and we rushed out of the woods together.

More than a hundred paces away from those men, the cavalry uniformly uttered a trembling guttural sound, a technique used to terrify the enemy. Sure enough, those who were looking at the front of them were shocked to turn their horses' heads when they found a small group of cavalry rushing out from the flank, and one simply stayed where he was.

Fifty feet away. We've run to maximum speed. This time. Even if they were an arrow, it would be difficult for those people to escape and ascend to heaven.

The cavalry leader was only half a horse ahead of us at first. By this time, he had completely rushed to the front, and I saw his cloak fluttering, and the towering sea otter fur hat was tilted back by the wind, which made him look like a legendary boyar knight, and the fluttering cloak and sharp knife also made people feel proud to follow him.

I yelled and continued to rush after him.

The leader swung his saber in his left hand, and slashed the tip of the knife through the jaw of the man closest to him, who threw the saber to cover his face, and blood sprayed out all over his face, but the two soldiers behind the leader of the cavalry plunged their knives into his chest. The man sat and died on horseback.

The others turned around and escaped in different directions.

But our six knights, who were in danger and lying in ambush on either side, were already waiting for these men at both ends of the road, and they had no chance.

I swung my saber and tried to cut down a man I was chasing, but the man quietly glanced back at me, twisted his horse, and dodged my attack. And my saber was so hard that I almost got out of my hand, and by the time I reined in my horse, I had foolishly run in front of the man. I've been there, when I was following the Romanovs' migratory armies, provoking a knight who was currying favor with Kaja. However, the man behind me was just in time to protect himself, and when he realized that my attack was no longer dangerous to him, he swung his whip violently and ran to the other side of the road. Why didn't he come and attack me? It must have been because of timidity.

There, there was a stalker who had fled earlier, who was seriously injured and was still trying to rush out. The guy who had escaped me went up to his aid, rescued his companion, and the two of them rushed together in a panic towards the main road.

The swift impact made the three Valan knights who were guarding there dare not block hard, and they jumped away from both ends as they began to accelerate in parallel with the fugitives. These two men had already been wounded, and it was impossible for them to keep running fast for long. One of the Valan cavalrymen next to me threw a javelin, but it missed the target, and the javelin grazed over the shoulder of a fugitive. But the second javelin struck the man in the waist, and the man lay on his horse's back in agony, and though he was badly wounded, he did not fall off the horse. Presumably, the head of the javelin did not penetrate deep into the flesh.

When I realized that I couldn't get to the front, I stopped and looked back at the back. The man at the beginning was dead, still sitting, and was being pulled off his horse by a man. The other threw away his weapon, stretched out his hands to the sky, and knelt on the ground, indicating that he would not resist. But a roaring Valan cavalryman leveled his saber and cut off the man's hands with his wrists, and the man flicked his legs on the ground like a goat pressed to the ground, and two bloody stumps were thrown around.

When I looked ahead again, the fugitive, who had been wounded earlier, had just had half of his head cut off, and his headless body continued to run on a horse for dozens of meters. before sliding to the ground. It took a while for the Valans to calm the horse.

The last fugitive was like a panicked bird. The walls of Valans are back and forth. No matter which direction he rushed, he would always be forced back by the sharp saber of the Valans, who unhurriedly narrowed the encirclement. I followed the people unhurriedly, holding the saber in my hand, waiting for someone to take the kill.

No one spoke, only the man whose hands had been cut off wept and wailed on the ground, his forehead covered with dust from the ground. The bird startled and flew in all directions.

The column of smoke in the distance was as quiet as it had been at the beginning, as if the small slaughter could not cause any ripples. The man made one last attempt to rush through the gap, but his mount was frightened by the sharp knives and stiffened its hooves at the last minute, giving up the chance to escape.

The leader of Valan's cavalry did not seem to be in a hurry to kill the man. He spat out and gave the two Varans a look. Slowly but surely, the Varan soldier approached the fellow, one of the Varan kicked his saber off, and the other put the knife on the man's neck and dismounted.

The man was dressed like a Salander, with his head wrapped in a coarse cloth of dark huángsè, and his eyes were full of horror.

As he dismounted, all the Valans who came close to him leaned in and kicked him in the face. Kicked him in the nose. Let his nose and mouth bleed.

The cavalry dismounted, and several Valans dragged the corpse into the woods. And peel off the armor. The stalker's horse was tied to our mount with a long rope.

The last man was taken under a tree, and before being interrogated, two Valans beat him with their fists and scabbards. During the beating, I watched the beating, and the two Valan knights seemed to be observing my reaction to the beating, whether consciously or unconsciously. To be honest, I'm not very good at things like this, but I don't feel disgusted anymore. I'm used to it, and I think torture is normal when it's fighting.

The knight searched the whole body of these people, but did not find the identity information of these people.

"Boy," the knight leader waved his men away, then plunged the dagger into the man's shoulder. The blood of the red sè was like gurgling water, and the tip of the dagger gushed out of the poor ghost's shoulder, and the knight leader tossed the dagger in his hand, and then said, "You can't live." Say, who are you? I'll give you a good time. ”

The man dressed as a Salander seemed to be strong, and he was not ready to say anything, with a look of death.

A Valanist ripped the cloth from the man's face.

"Did the old loach send you?" The leader made the man kneel, then crouched in front of him and said.

The man looked at the cavalry leader slowly, and then spat a mouthful of blood on the leader's face.

He didn't say anything, but I knew that it was definitely not from Xiaodonghu or anything, he was from the Romanovs.

This is Kirov.

He taught me how to get on a horse and let me learn how to work with horses; He gave me my first horse, but I lost it; He often instructed me to bring a message to a certain girl, but he never kept what he promised. This is a friend I have known since I was in Romanovburg.

Kirov's huge head looked stocky, and he was still a young man, not much older than Richard, nowhere near as strong as a full-grown samurai. His eyes are pale huángsè, which makes him look a little bit of Kugit blood. When he laughs, his face becomes almost round, and when he drinks, he is often poured under the table by others because he talks too much and is too public.

"Victor, are you an idiot? Kujitt's children can run and fly without a saddle, but you can't even get on a horse? He said with such contempt for me.

I looked at Kirov and knew he was dead.

The cavalry leader pinched his chin, turned his head, and said to me with a playful expression, "Do you know this man?" Victor? ”

When it was snowing in the winter, Kirov once accused me of taking too long to prepare my horse and ripped off my pants in front of several washerwomen, and that night Herman and I urinated in his flask. Does Kirov know about this?

Kirov looked at me, and I looked at him.

"What about you?" The cavalry leader asked Kirov, "Meet the great old loach . Romanov's grandson Little Loach. Romanov? ”

Kirov's teeth cracked a few times and he glanced at me. I know what that expression means: Kill me.

"I don't know this man." I made my decision almost immediately.

I threw my saber and pulled a javelin from the backpack of one of the Valan soldiers beside me. I grabbed the javelin in both hands and, like a short spear, stabbed Kirov in the chest.

Kirov did not dodge, but shed tears of despair.

I pricked it a few times, and blood sprayed all over my face like a fountain. Blood gushed out of Kirov's mouth, he bit his tongue in pain, and finally he spat out a mouthful of blood, and said to me with a bloody face, "Curse you a thousand times!" ”

Then he raised his head and shouted, "Long live Little Donghu City!" ”

The last few times I stabbed him, he was unresponsive. He's dead.

The Valan soldiers stood around and watched quietly.

After a while, when I had calmed down, the leader of the Valan cavalry took the javelin from my hand.

"Enough, enough, Victor." The leader of the cavalry, who was covered with blood, said to me, "You are our Varans, and one day you will be the boyar of Valan." ”