With a short sword and dagger hanging from his waist, and on his right legging is a thin, small steel spike that is the length of his middle finger and less than the width of a finger, making it extremely sharp and suitable for hand-to-hand combat and stealth throat slitting in the dark.

Bolon stopped in the street, and behind him was a row of strong mercenaries, all of whom were fierce men, carefully selected by Bollon. Boron didn't want to work with a bunch of mediocre hands, because in that case, his life would be dragged down by the mediocre hands.

With a soft sound, Boron drew his short sword and dagger, a short dagger in his left hand and a short dagger in his right hand. In the darkness, his face could not be seen, only the cold light of the sword and dagger flickering.

There was a soft sound of killing, and the eleven mercenaries behind him all showed their weapons: steel spikes, short knives, short swords, daggers, and even one guy used an iron chain ball: holding the middle part of the chain, the two ends of the pure iron ball larger than a fist attacked. When Bo Long and the others pounced, this guy would only stand on the periphery, and whenever someone wanted to escape or showed a flaw, his iron ball would throw it and smash people's heads into juicy watermelons.

Around the corner of the street behind Boron, a mercenary crossed his arms, and in his shadow, Tyrion stood against the wall.

There was a sharp cracking sound, but it was very light, as if the blade of a sword had pierced the motionless air.

Shout!

The throat of the tall mercenary with his arms around him in a relaxed manner made a muffled 'hum', and a small black triangular arrow burst through the back of his neck, protruding from his throat, like the sound of a sword gently cutting through a piece of leather, soft, but very clean.

Cha!

The mercenary's whole body was shocked, and his whole body stiffened.

Tyrion was astonished, it was a small street that was not bright, a dense half-hill shanty town of scales and heights, not far from the garbage heaps of the flea nest, it smelled rancid, and it was sparsely populated at night, and he had no idea where the arrows were coming from.

There was silence all around, except for the night breeze and the barking of a few wild dogs in the garbage dump.

Tyrion watched as the tall body fell against the wall, not dying, his hands and feet spasming. The mercenary opened his mouth to speak, but choked on blood.

Blood poured out, and it fell into Tyrion's eyes in a pitch black gushing out of the night.

Tyrion pulled out the short sword at his waist, felt his scalp tingle, his back stabbed pain, and the crabs he ate for dinner seemed to come to life in his stomach, and he clamped them in his stomach with pliers.

"Calm down! Calm down!" Tyrion told himself. He leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, his eyes wide open, but he didn't notice anything, "What would Jaime do in this situation?" He felt his hands and feet go limp, and he shrunk as if he were flying against the wall. He didn't dare to shout, for fear of attracting the sharp black iron arrows in the darkness.

"How could the other side be ambushing the archers, unless Littlefinger was Eddard Stark's man. ”

In the dimness of the affected vision, how could an archer shoot an arrow in the back of the neck and break through the throat?

Tyrion felt his heart beat like a war drum, but there was a dead silence all around. - The small street is not long, but it becomes infinitely long in an instant.

It seemed like a long time, but in fact it was only a few breaths, and Tyrion's short legs quickly approached the Bronn team. Then, he saw an extra arrow shaft on the back of the outermost guy who liked to play with the Meteor Iron Ball, and the guy shook his body, and a second one appeared on the head without a helmet in the blink of an eye......

- For experienced mercenaries, they rarely wear armor in water battles and sink when they enter the water, and they rarely wear helmets in melee combat in dark alleys without torches at night, and their vision is severely obstructed.

Tyrion hissed, "There are archers!"

But before he could make a sound, two more arrows drove into the heads of the two mercenaries almost in no particular order, and this time the arrows finally made a loud and cruel flesh sound: poof! and the guy from the Meteor Hammer began to stumble and fall at this time......

Behind the head of the Blood Troupe, Wag Hurt, on the corner of the alley stood Petyr the Littlefinger, who pulled up his hood and covered his face in the dark.

Hush!

A voice was soft beside him.

Little Finger's whole body immediately stiffened, as if it had been frozen into an ice sculpture in an instant. Then, with a polite tuck of his hood, a young and unfamiliar voice full of vigor was soft and elegant: "Good evening, Sir Petyr, I am the Silvermoon Judge." ”

Petyr turned his neck and saw a silver half-mask, which was fastened to the right side of his face, emitting a faint light, bewitching and beautiful, while the other half was in the dark, with only the eyes like a faint cat's eye in the night......

Petyr couldn't move, watching the other party unhurriedly draw a thin narrow sword, his throat gurgling, he just wanted to kneel and beg for mercy, but he couldn't make a sound......

"In the face of the strife and sin of the world, there is only the Holy Judgment!" was the last proverbial phrase that Petyr heard, and then he was struck down into the boundless darkness...... Little devil, I shouldn't have trusted him...... Little Devil ......

**

The four of Will were surrounded by the front and back, and no one on the front and back leaders spoke, but they didn't even move—they were all veterans, and they all hoped that the other party would rush forward and clean up the mess themselves.

Will smiled, "Rolger, Fangs, which side do you choose?"

Luo Erger smiled and said, "My lord, can I not choose?"

"Yes!" Will laughed.

Sharp Tooth giggled and said, "Lord Will, this is a rare opportunity, can I pick a few pairs of good hands to grind my teeth at night?"

"No, I can't. Will laughed.

Jia Kun raised his hands high: "Brothers, I have nothing to do with Lord Will, can you let me ......"

Shagvi, the madman with the clown's red nose, was silent, drew his long sword, and pounced violently - two teams, only he was a long sword - narrow alley melee combat, long weapons are inferior, and it is easy to hurt his own people when wielded - as soon as he moved, all the brothers of the blood drama troupe poured out, as if opening the floodgates......

Roger and Fangs, who had been prepared, immediately turned back to meet the enemy, and Rolger's weapon was a mace, hidden on him without a trace. Rolger is a gorilla, immensely powerful, and his mace is a blunt weapon that specializes in armor-piercing.

Faced with armor, gorillas think that it is much more useful to smash than to cut. Against armor, blunt strikes and swordsmanship, unlike swordsmanship, do not require skill at all.

The warhead of the gorilla's mace is composed of radial blade-shaped parts, and the blunt end is composed of many non-sharp axe blades, which are not sharp but very strong because they have no blades. In the face of the metal armor, even the plate armor that the blade could not cut at all was pierced by the gorilla's hammer.

Armor-piercing, the most competent weapon, one is a tomahawk, and the other is this mace, which is not afraid of curling the blade, as long as the strength is enough, it can easily smash through the armor.

Although Fang's real weapons were his hands, Fang's short knife met the sword of the madman Shagvi who flew at him.

While!

The swords intersected, and the short knives flew out of their hands.

The madman Shagvi slashed with his first sword, and he knocked off the fanged dagger.

Shagwe, who wore a red nose and pretended to be a clown, giggled, and the long sword slashed backhand, the blade flashed, and in the blink of an eye, it was about to cut through the belly and chest of the fangs.

**

Available January 1, 2018, brothers, subscription, monthly pass.