It wasn't long before footsteps sounded not far outside the fence. Webb, who was still there praying, nervously hurried back to his original position, his nervous face didn't even have the slightest expression, his eyes widened and his throat was still twitching.

Edward, who was a little smiling, closed his eyes slightly, and lay motionless in the mud puddle as he had done before, but his ears were pressed to the fence, listening to the very irregular footsteps of the other man slowly approaching.

Apparently he was only a weak priest and a dying sick man, and it was not worth taking seriously, or rather the job was quite reluctant for him - either way, it was quite an advantageous situation for Edward.

No, there was more than one person on the other side - Weber's heart was about to jump to his throat, in other words, he might not take it very seriously, but when he saw the heretic who usually came to spy on him, followed by two people, his body began to swing involuntarily.

The bearded and chainmailed captain walked slowly over with the hilt of his sword at his waist, as if observing the surrounding movements, while the two men behind him followed closely with crossbows, also carefully surveying the surrounding woods, apparently also patrolling.

The footsteps stopped only a stone's throw away from the fence, and a guy in his thirties who looked like a captain walked over, took out an apple from his pocket and took a bite, his right arm rested on the fence, and his blue eyes looked at Edward who was lying there: "Is he dead?"

"No, no, Lord Marcus. Webb still remembered the man's name, and his yellowed and bearded face made him so frightened that he didn't even dare to say a word, and replied with a little fear by shrinking his neck: "Actually, he was awake for a while just now...... Just now!"

"What did you say?!" Marcus was startled, subconsciously pressed the sword at his waist, and looked at the young man lying there in surprise, and Edward, who was still silent, coughed a few times very cooperatively, as if a dying man was dying.

"Oh my God, it's my lucky day - to finally be able to say goodbye to this damn countryman, it smells as disgusting as a dung pit, not to mention the damn corpses and bugs!" the captain smiled in surprise as he opened the fence door and walked in, beckoning to one of the soldiers behind him to arrest Edward.

The soldier had an ugly look on his face - it was evident that he knew that the squire had been kept here because of a fever, but he dared not speak in anger, and walked over with his head bowed and his bow behind him. Marcus himself walked up to Webb's side, looking at Webb, who was still very scared, with a kind smile on his face.

"This damp and stuffy place, the brothers have nowhere to vent, they can only think of torturing those unlucky people, and it is quite boring after a long time. Our nervous Lord Aiden seemed to have lost his mind, and now it was finally over—with this kid, we could finally leave. ”

"So, your prayers worked?" Marcus looked at Webb with a very hesitant expression, as if he was asking casually, "You say, what if I believe yours...... Radiant Cross, can I be like him...... Lucky to survive?"

"We call this refuge, Master Marcus. Weber's face was still calm, but his heart was already trembling as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff: "Yes, yes, if you are willing to believe in the Radiant Cross, there will be a place for you in the Starry Sky Kingdom, even if you are not from Turin, but from the Kingdom of Dominica." ”

"I'm not from Turine, and I've killed a lot of Turinees, men, women, children, and the elderly, and when they die, they scream like Dominics. Marcus showed a somewhat cruel smile on his face, and his sharp eyes stared at Weber's expression like a wolf: "Sue me - I killed so many of your compatriots, your god called Radiant Cross will still let me enter him, what kind of starry sky kingdom?"

"Put down the blade in your hand, pray to me sincerely, pray for your blood relatives, friends, and enemies, and you will receive my glory!" When he said this, the fear on Weber's face completely disappeared, his hands were folded, and his pious gaze seemed to melt into a qiē: "This is what the Glorious Proverbs taught me, so you can, as long as you are willing to believe it." ”

"Oh...... Really, I still have a bit of a position with Lord Aiden, maybe I can convince him not to hang you here, you can go back with us, and we have had you Turin missions in our hometown......"

Marcus was still chattering there, but Webb's eyes were already looking behind him through his shoulders - the soldier had already carried Edward on his shoulder, and Webber, whose cheeks twitched, looked cautiously at Marcus in front of him: "My lord, how many of your people are still in the village?"

"About a hundred and thirty people...... Why do you ask this?"

Webb's question immediately alerted him, but it was too late...... Edward, who was still dying a moment ago, quietly pulled out his short knife from the soldier's waist with his left hand, and the sharp triangular pyramid slammed into the back of his neck, carrying blood through his throat!

Mist-like blood gushed out, staining the tips of his jet-black hair an imperceptible red. Like an iron hook, he grabbed the hilt of the knife and pulled it forward, and the blood-spitting soldier desperately pressed down on the bleeding neck, and fell backwards on his back.

"What?!" Marcas, who heard the voice behind him, almost immediately drew the long sword at his waist, but when he turned back, he saw his own soldier lying in a puddle like rag dolls!

Edward's right hand took the crossbow from his back, and his head slowly turned around, and under the tips of his blood-dripping hair, a pair of black eyes were already staring at the guy standing outside, and he still had a string of crossbows in his hands.

Swift, decisive and without hesitation, like a cheetah smelling blood, the soldier who was already frightened stupidly standing outside, hurriedly raised the crossbow in his hand, and a cold light had hit his eyebrows accurately at this time!

After shooting the crossbow arrow, Edward decisively threw the crossbow in his hand at Marcas, who was standing aside, and the captain, who had not yet recovered from the scene just now, quickly blocked it with his sword; taking advantage of this gap, the black-haired boy jumped out of the fence, like a falcon, and pounced on the soldier who had been shot through the eyebrows like a falcon, and stepped on his face with the help of inertia from top to bottom, the sound of the neck bone breaking was crisp and clear, and the crooked head hung on his neck at an impossible angle.

Until the moment they died, these two people couldn't even shout the words "help".

By the time Marcus turned around, he was the only one standing here. The black-haired boy held a short knife in his right hand and stood motionless outside the fence like a beast waiting for his prey, waiting for him to reach the door.

"Damn Turin dog, you dare to lie to me?!" Anger completely controlled his sanity, and the roaring Marcus stomped open the gate of the fence, raising the sword in his hand - maybe it was anger, maybe it was humiliation, he didn't care about "Lord Aiden's orders" anymore, he just wanted to chop this damn bastard to pieces at once!

The sharp steel sword kept swinging in Marcas's hand, leaving an afterimage in front of him, and the whistling sound that tore through the air seemed to have made him see the bloody figure of the black-haired boy, but the result was one failure after another. The black-haired boy seemed to have an invisible shield on his body, and every time the shadow of the blade slipped through him, it could only move by his side, and it could not be touched at all.

Moments of despair loomed over Marcas's head—especially as the ghost with the dagger drew closer and closer to him, swinging the sword harder. In the next moment, the light short knife stabbed into his mouth as if by magic, and Edward pressed his whole body in front of Marcas, released the hilt, and pressed his hands on the sides of his head, his cold black eyes staring at the eyes that were already desperate.

"No, no, I beg you to spare ......"

"Now, there are only one hundred and twenty-seven left, and the converts ......"

With a slam of his palm, his fragile neck twisted behind his back, and his body, which looked quite powerful, seemed to be drained, and the sword slipped from his hand, and the whole person collapsed to the ground.

Weber, who was huddled in the corner, was almost stunned - what had just happened seemed to be just a blink of an eye, and all three of them were quietly slaughtered, and there was no chance to fight back!

Maybe he's not crazy, maybe he can really get everyone out!, but ......

Is he really still the taciturn squire......? While Webber was thinking wildly, Edward quickly carried the opponent's steel sword behind his back, and by the way, he took out a key from the corpse and threw it at Webber's feet.

"Get your shackles unshackled, and come over to help, see if these guys have anything else to use - weapons, food, or whatever, hurry!"

"Oh...... Okay, okay!" the timid young priest took the key in a panic, and after being trapped here for so many days, his body was a little stiff, and he was so weak that he even had to hold on to the fence to get up.

"Now we need to make a decision, Priest. Pinning the dagger to his waist, Edward smiled and walked over, flexing his neck: "If we run away now, they will understand when it gets dark, that group of people in the village will definitely not survive, but they can buy us a lot of time, but if we ......"

"Don't say it, I'll choose the second one!" The trembling Webber held on to the fence and looked into Edward's eyes without flinching: "Say, what do you need me to do?"

"Correct, priest. A satisfied smile appeared on Edward's face, "Now we can think of a perfect plan!"