Foy Lorraine was lying on the table playing with her dagger.

The torrential rain from Domunauer has been going on for three days, and the once safe Bena Valley has become extremely dangerous, and the remaining mercenaries, adventurers, and merchants have gathered in this tavern called "Wild Elephant", and have to "quietly" wait for the bad weather to end.

Oh, and maybe it's not so quiet. Lazily glancing at the two bickering mercenaries, Foy continued to lie on the table, her slender fingers gliding over the sharp blade of the dagger, like an elf dancing intoxicatingly on the lake of life.

Occasionally, a mercenary would cast a gaze at the area, but it would take less than a few seconds for them to move away. The Half-Elf Ranger is undoubtedly a great beauty, but not everyone has the strength to conquer the Rangers.

Just as the tavern was as noisy as it had been three days before, the oak door was slammed open.

A man walked in.

Fuy reached for the longbow at the table, she wasn't the only one doing so. Because when facing a big man who is nearly two meters long and fully armed, the first thing that dangerous elements who lick blood at the tip of the knife is to protect themselves.

But there's nothing dangerous about the uninvited guest.

He was dressed in expensive half-body plate armor, with a long sword hanging from his waist, a shield on his back, a burqa embroidered with three lions on his chest, and a helmet pulled down to cover his face.

A knight.

The mercenaries began to let their guard down, and the tavern attendant was about to walk up to greet the guests when a cold steel boot stepped on the floor and a second man walked in.

The same outfit, the same movements, the only difference is that his cloak is dripping with mixed blood.

Colorless rain and red blood.

With just one breath, Fuy's bow was aimed at them, and the rangers behind her looked at each other in despair, and in countless moments of life and death, they had already practiced a good hearing as scouts.

The heavy rain drowned out the sound of the troops' movements, and as the footsteps outside the tavern grew denser, Fuy had already judged that the "wild elephant" was surrounded.

The guards were finished, and there were at least fifty people outside.

This is not something that a dozen or so mercenaries in the tavern can deal with. The two knights in front of them alone were enough to deal with everyone present except the rangers.

No one spoke, and pins could be heard in the tavern.

The two knights watched them with interest until a third man appeared.

Sherlock Angus Gale shook the rain off his body, and the dying struggles of the guards just now had him delay for a few seconds, only a few seconds.

More than twenty mercenaries?

Sherlock frowned, these blood-licking outlaws were more difficult to deal with than the few town militiamen outside the door who had been turned into corpses......

He liked it, though.

Touching the freshly shaved iron chin, Knight Angus Gale's hand rested on the knight's sword.

The ranger clenched the bow in her hand, and the tall, lanky man at the door gave her a strong sense of danger. The coat of arms of the three lions, heavy chain mail, ostentatiously without a helmet, is he the head of the two knights?

A calm voice suddenly came from behind the knight, and the tavern door was pushed open.

The afterglow of Voy Lorraine's eyes glanced there. Another slightly taller knight, his armor concealed under a knight's robe embroidered with a double-headed eagle, and his face obscured by the elaborate eagle wing helmet.

What was he talking about? The ranger swore in the name of the goddess that in all her adventures, she had never heard anything like it.

She certainly never heard of it.

This language is called Middle English.

"Knight, don't be nervous. Baron Owen Lildella said so.

The Baron was in mixed moods right now. Just an hour ago, God threw him from Earth into this world called Monet, giving him two systems, Total War and Horse Riding and Hacking.

Before he could figure out the situation, the system automatically drew a lottery, and an English dismounted feudal knight, two English armored swordsmen, and a hundred Danish peasants appeared in front of him.

Just as he was in the middle of a daze, the noble knight, who had introduced himself as Sherlock Angus Gale, rushed forward in a language he didn't understand.

Opposite, it seems to be a town?

After a few minutes, the baron finally digested it all.

Fortunately, out of medieval interest, I taught myself Old English and a little other language, otherwise I wouldn't even understand a few words of that Angus Gale.

Then he saw his men chop the poor town militia to the ground.

The riding and slashing system gives itself a tough body, perfect armor and fighting instincts.

I didn't give myself a memory of the battlefield.

Resisting the urge to vomit, the Baron took on his first assignment in the land.

Capture the town of Bercron and subdue the mercenaries represented by Fuy Lorraine. Quest Success Reward: Castle. Mission Failure Penalty: Erasure.

The knights had already stormed the only lighted building in the town, and the baron, with a moment's hesitation, gave an order to a peasant beside him who was surrounding the building and the town called Berkron to escort him in.

Hearing the voice of his lord, the peasant hurriedly bent down and stood there respectfully, but did not move.

Danish farmer. Thinking of the strange language of Angus Gale's charge just now and the subsequent actions of the peasants, the baron suddenly realized.

It turned out that the peasants only knew Danish.

It seems that there are many things about this system that I don't understand.

The baron, who was crying and laughing, had no choice but to step into the house and stop the knight who was about to draw his sword in time.

After a brief look around, it looked like a poorly decorated tavern. The two groups of people faced each other in tension, on one side were more than twenty mercenaries with different costumes and different weapons, and on the other side were three people who were alone themselves.

I don't know why the system gave a Byzantine double-headed eagle coat of arms. Looking down at the burqa on his chest, the noble Baron was ready to begin his persuasion. As a nobleman, he knows it with affection, moves with reason, seduces it with profit, and makes all kinds of promises, and it should not be a problem to take down this group of mercenaries who have passed today and have no tomorrow.

The eyes of everyone present were fixed on Baron Lildra, who had taken a big step forward, and then,

There is no then.

The confident Baron embarrassedly ignored the question that he didn't know the local language at all!

It's easy to capture this town, but how to recruit the mercenaries in front of you is the problem.

I don't want to die in this foreign country because of a translation problem.

After a moment of silence, a mercenary with five big and three thick couldn't stand it anymore, and opened his mouth to shout angrily, and then many mercenaries also began to shout. The baron tilted his head to look at them, wondering if he was saying something about the battle you were going to fight.

"They are foreigners. Fuy spoke, and the Ranger's prestige silenced the mercenaries, "They don't understand our language. ”

"And what do they want? They could easily kill us. A young mercenary, who still looked young, asked, his voice trembling slightly.

The ranger was silent for a moment, then answered the question.

"The town of Berkron is inland, and there are no enemies of the principality nearby. They were nobles, killed the guards and captured the town, apparently escaped, they needed a foothold, they needed manpower. That nobleman wants to recruit us!"