"But he's dead." Burigood looked at the bonfire with a solemn expression, "The warriors of the desert once mourned for him, just as many years ago I led the warriors into the right court to mourn for the king of the right court."

Jiaohe raised his eyebrows and said, "What?"

"That night we heard the call of an eagle." The dead branches crackled, and sparks drifted through Burigood's eyes, "There are so many eagles, flying and flying in the sky. I led the samurai to the right court and saw the flames engulfing the desert, everywhere. And the corpses, and the slaves, and the deserters." He looked at Jiaohe in the flickering sparks and whispered, "King."

Jiaohe looked at him silently, and the five fingers hidden in the thick blanket were folded into fists.

"Zheng Guoren's army has long since left." Burigood smiled self-deprecatingly, "No one knows when they attacked, and the sentry warriors didn't return. The entire right court was destroyed, and there was one less king in the desert from then on. We searched for survivors among the corpses, and we searched all night, and found the king of the right court lying in the king's tent, and his queen accompanying him."

"The law of the desert is that the law of the jungle eats the strong, and it won't help if you feel unwilling. You can't defeat the Manhong Pass, even if General Zhen is dead, there is still Captain Liang in the Manhong Pass." Jiao He stared at the bonfire with a faint gaze, "The people in the right court are all dead, natural selection, they can't escape, let alone shift the blame to the murderer. After all, no one can escape the fate they were born with."

Břigood turned to the river with his arms on his knees, his smile glowing with an unpredictable mystery, and he said, "Really? If it was the will of the Holy Talaton to bring about the destruction of the Right Court, why did he leave another prophecy?"

"Prophecy?" Jiaohe's pale face was bloodless, and he looked at Burigood with disdain, and said, "Another ridiculous joke, your god has never prophesied. Those sorcerers hiding in tents sacrificed human blood to the gods, but the right court was still destroyed by General Zhen's male iron armor. The gods did not kill him, and the villain who killed General Zhen hid in the shadows. You can shift the blame to General Zhen, call him a murderer, call him callous and ruthless. But what really brought down the right court was your devout but illusory Talaten."

"No, the holy Talaton guides me to see with my eyes, the eagles are the messengers of Talaten, and they bring the black message that I see the right court fall in the darkness, the same." Břigood rubbed his hands together with a relaxed expression, "and also gives us a new hope, a prophecy, from the lips of the dead."

The bonfire and blanket were still not warm enough, and Jiaohe was trembling slightly, and he broke off the dead branches standing in the sand, threw them into the campfire, and turned his head as he threw them, and asked, "What kind of prophecy will come out of the mouth of a dead man?"

"It's what you call a wizard." Břigood stood up and walked around the campfire, "In the sacrificial tent in the right court, a sorcerer broke free from death and carried with him the prophecy of Talaten." He walked over to Jiaohe and sat down, "He told me that Talateng had chosen a child, the Child of Prophecy. Wearing a black mask and holding a vengeful scimitar in his hand, the child rises from the desert sand and summons a sandstorm to engulf the enemy, then rebuild the right court and become the new king."

"Stupid." Jiaohe coughed twice and said sneeringly, "The crazy man who talks nonsense is also crazy when he is dying, and the most ridiculous thing is that you actually believe it."

"Originally, I didn't believe it, even if the person who said this was the most honorable wizard in the entire desert." Burigood suddenly took advantage of Jiaohe's inattention to lift his collar, and he pointed to the tattoo on Jiaohe***'s chest, "Until I see the eagle totem on you, this is the totem of the royal family." His gaze was fixed on Jiaohe, "Who the hell are you?"

Jiaohe pulled a thick blanket to cover his chest, and then said coldly, "Jiaohe."

"Crossing the river. I've read your Kyushu people's books, and I've seen the name before." Burigude withdrew his hand with grace, and immediately thought and said, "Is it right to drink horses and cross the river at dusk?"

He looked at Jiaohe, but his eyes were full of suspicion.

Burigood sat beside Jiaohe, and he smelled the familiar smell and said, "Yes."

Burigood put the corner of the blanket that was dragged on the ground on his knees, then twisted his head and asked curiously, "Then are you from Zheng Guo or from the desert?"

"I am

Zheng Guoren has never been a desert person." Jiaohe's eyes were like a blazing falcon, "As for this totem, it's just a disguise to sneak into your royal court."

"Okay, Zheng Guoren handed over the river." Břigood lay on the sand indifferently, "We'll be at the royal court in two days, hold on until then, I don't want to end your life with a scimitar." But if that moment does come." He looked at Jiaohe with a smile and said seriously, "I wish you knew my name then. My name is Burigood."

Břígood rested his hands on the back of his head, looked at the starry sky almost at hand, and yawned lazily.

Jiaohe didn't answer, he slowly raised his head, followed Burigood's gaze at the fluorescent stars in the sky, and suddenly saw a flying shadow from the starlight. Chinese Net

Hawk.

He was surprised by the fleeting shadow, and his nerves, which had been relaxed, tensed uneasily. He lay down on his side, curled up in the cold night wind, but at that moment Břigood suddenly leaned sideways and put his arm around his shoulder.

Jiaohe opened his closed eyes and asked in a cold voice, "What are you doing?"

"The desert wind is too cold." Břigood smiled as if he was a scoundrel and asked, "Aren't you cold?"

Jiaohe tried to break free of Burigood's arm, but the other man's hand held him tighter and harder.

"I'm not cold." Jiaohe struggled for a moment, "You take your hand away."

Burigood's hand suddenly touched Jiaohe's forehead, and he smacked his mouth and said, "It's too hot, you're sick enough to talk nonsense. I'm shivering with cold, how can you not be cold?"

Jiaohe moved his body and tried to take away Burigood's hand, but his body was too weak, and his strength was not as great as the other party's.

He struggled a few times and couldn't break free, so he turned his head to stare at Burigood and said, "I'm not cold, you take your hands away."

"No, I got this blanket from the people of Cana. I've been carrying you for days, and now I'm shivering with cold, so you have to share it with me, right?" Burigood blinked, "Besides, I made an oath under the holy Talateng, I will be responsible for your life, hey, Zheng Guoren Jiaohe." He grinned with white teeth, "Your life is mine now."

"I didn't hold you accountable for my life." Jiao He's face was cold and threatening, "Do you want to take it?"

Břigood laughed even more, and he said as if playfully, "No."

Jiaohe closed his eyes helplessly and said, "If you snore, I will cut your throat at night."

Břigood leaned his head close to him, the distance between the two foreheads was no more than a size, and he lowered his voice and whispered, "We've slept together for the past five days, don't you know if I can snore or not?"

Jiaohe buried his head in the blanket and ignored him, the thick blanket covered the two of them, in the warm blanket, the light crisp tea fragrance mixed with the familiar smell of sweat lingered on the tip of his nose, Jiaohe soon fell asleep.

In his sleep, he muttered, "...... your hand?"

Břigood looked at the starry sky contentedly, and he replied softly with a smile.

"It's fine."

The seventh day arrived.

The Cana procession walked slowly through the ancient riverbed of the desert, their water bladders dried up, the hot sun hanging high in the air, the water cut off on the fourth day, and the food had been eaten, but hunger was not the only threat.

A soldier fell into the sand forever due to dehydration, and his comrades were no longer able to dig a grave for him, so they could only let the wind and sand bury him. Perhaps the only thing that sustained their will at the moment was the impatience to kill, but they were equally eager to find the oasis, and even more eager to reach their destination on the eighth day.

The Desert Palace.

"Their water is gone, and they all look weak." Kuroko crept on the sand dune and peeked carefully, "Rush down now, I can pinch one to death with one finger."

Heizi said and turned his face to look at Liang Fenghou, his throat slid and looked nervous, but the hand that was clenching the handle of the knife was seen by Liang Fenghou.

"You have only ten fingers, and they are ten thousand. Don't take any chances, keep watching." Liang Fenghou's voice was still indifferent

He turned to look at the scout behind him, "Is the scout back?"

"We just arrived this morning, and we changed to a new ambush spot, so there was some delay on the way." The scout pushed his crooked helmet, "People are behind, but you want to summon them?"

"Nope." Liang Fenghou quickly crawled down the sand dune, "I'll go myself." Before leaving, he instructed Kuroko, "Kuroko, keep an eye on it, and report any abnormal movement immediately."

Kuroko lifted the cloth on his chin, nodded and said in a deep voice, "Oh!"

As he marched, Liang Fenghou asked, "Have the major military camps ever sent a message from a flying eagle?"

The scout followed closely, and he reported very quickly, "The major military camps have come to prepare for battle according to the orders of the lords, the Beacon Battalion and the Cavalry Battalion are each stationed ten miles away from the atrium, and the Shensha Battalion is two miles behind here. The leader of the Iron Blood Battalion replied that there was an abnormal movement in the Left Court, so they have not been dispatched for the time being, and the Wind Breaking Camp has always been the cover of the Iron Blood Battalion, and they are still stationed in the same place."

"What can happen to the left court? The foundation of the iron-blooded battalion is the division of a hundred battles, and after General Zhen left, this group of veterans was the most disobedient." Liang Fenghou took off the cloth that covered his nose and said, "Report it truthfully."

The scout took out the letter scroll and handed it over, saying, "Two days ago, about 30,000 light horsemen from outside the left court were approaching the atrium."

Liang Fenghou's face softened slightly, he looked at the letter scroll, and asked, "Who is the leader?"

The scout did not pause, and immediately said, "Prince of the Left Court, Ang Qin."

"It's him." Liang Fenghou lifted the curtain of the simple camp tent, lowered his head and walked in, and took a breath, "What about the camp?"

The scout lowered the curtain, turned and said, "Tell me that the ships of the Canadians are no longer building towers, but the Canadians are strange, they seem to be digging sand in the sand."