Chapter 385 The Age of Mercenaries

Taylors sat on the side of the bar and looked at the old wild beer in his hand, depressed for a while.

During this period, the fast ropes sweated into the pub, rummaging through the books, checking the numbers, and busy the property left by Kanze, while Louisa, Dean, McGee, and Dante’s swords were also one by one. Come to the pub and go up to the second floor to meet with Seaman and the old hammer.

"Wye, are you sure you are sitting here?"

Dean squeezed into the noisy tavern and looked up at the tales of Taylors sitting in front of the building.

"Yes," Tyres, who pulled his face out of the cup, sat full, staring at Tampa on the other side of the bar, biting his teeth and tickle: "I am familiar with the tavern owner."

"That's good," Dean looked at Tampa suspiciously. "Tampa is a more reliable mercenary agent. He knows a lot of contacts. If you are looking for a way home, maybe..."

Tyres nodded stiffly.

Dean shrugged and went upstairs to attend a meeting inside the mercenary.

Time passed, and soon, the blade camp ushered in the night after sunset.

The people in the pub come and go, and they are staggered.

Many people noticed the taylor sitting in the corner, but most of them were forced back by Tampa with their eyes.

The travellers smiled and sang songs to attract business, while watching the competition of their peers, wearing exposed girls swaying between the wine tables, from time to time with the gully on the chest to attract money, as well as hidden face or manners mysterious The man huddled behind the table, whispering and dancing on the countertop, doing the dirty trade that Taylors didn't want to know or dare to know.

Tyres has seen the sunset bar in the underground street, where there is often a noisy appearance of a group of people coming and going, but everyone knows that it is the site of the fraternity. Even if the scene is chaotic, not many people dare to make trouble in it.

And my bar is not the case at all.

When Teres saw the third table guests fight around a disproportionate business and smashed a whole table, he finally couldn't help but open his mouth to the boss: "You look at it?"

"if not?"

After the bar, Tampa waved his hand and waved, indicating that a man had to deal with the stall and settle the bill.

"This is a blade camp, full of interests, calculations, opportunities, dangers, and law and ethics only occasionally appear. It is a strange thing that people don't fight," Tampa opened his account and quickly recorded what he said: "Reassuring The bladed camps are simple and honest—haven’t you lost money after they broke the tables and chairs?”

Simple folk……

Tyres smoked his cheeks.

"If they don't lose money?"

Tampa looked up and the knife on his neck swayed.

"Do not lose money?"

Tampa’s eyes radiated a chilling glow.

“Everyone knows that I know a lot of mercenaries and adventurers in the camp and often introduce them to the business,” the tavern owner said politely. “And there are many professional debt collectors who look at me. They only get a profit - they also pack the aftertaste."

Tyres nodded slightly and looked at himself: "It turns out that you are really talented here."

Going to his mother's folk style is simple.

Thinking about the next move, Tyres asked the tavern boss absent-mindedly: "So, Cohen saved money for you? Why?"

"This used to be the custom. At the end of the **** year, the soldiers who went out had the rewards in the back, and they came back to pick them up - if he could still come back alive."

Tampa sat on the bar with a sullen look. He watched the guys busy and turned around. One thing didn't matter to the high: "Later, the Baron Williams promised to get the number of times in order to motivate the soldiers. After the battle was over, I also retired, and I took this habit and hoped to make a business."

"But it seems..." Looking at the fast rope sitting in front of a businessman trying to count the money, Tampa sighed helplessly.

"Clean up...the battle?" Tyres asked: "Is it part of the desert war?"

Tampa snorted.

"I guess you haven't seen the desert war ten years ago?"

Tyres shrugged: "It's obvious."

Tampa nodded and looked like "I know": "Then you have never seen it, after that, it lasted for several years, big and small campaigns."

"How to say?"

Tampa narrowed his eyes and looked at the couple who were drinking in the distance. They looked at them from the shoulders, the brothers to the bad words, and the fists and feet. It seems to be accustomed to it.

"The great victory of the desert war has always been puffed with psoriasis: the ruined star kingdom has fought and shunned, and bravely expedition to the desert, facing the wild bones and orc tribes that moved eastward in the **** years... ”

He calmly said:

"But you know, for us, the hardest part is not how to defeat the hybrids and the wilderness - you can repel them once, you can repel them many times - but how to protect your results after repelling them How to hold back the flag and the cowhide that they left after the glorious main force returned home, how to clean up the enemies after the deep sand dunes and caves, and annihilate those who stayed behind to wait for the opportunity. The remnant of the army is brave; how to use the scarce force to keep the path, to make the teeth back and forth in the resurgence of the hybrids, to fight the headaches, let the desert races, especially the stubborn orcs, get used to your existence, fear your strength, Like rogue dogs, they are used to the new territory of the Lion King."

"This requires a process," Tampa's eyes slowly drifted away: "In this process, there is no battle in history, no decisive battle, no earth-shattering battle... but its tragic and sacrifice has not been inferior. ”

"The victory is made with blood," he said faintly: "In order to consolidate the victory, you have to pay more blood."

"This is the battle to clear up."

Tampa pointed to the wall behind the bar: there was an old but still sharp old axe.

“Are you also in it?” the prince asked solemnly: “Whether the desert war or the campaign is cleared?”

Tampa nodded.

"The blade camp at that time was not like what you are seeing now: the wounds of the **** year have not recovered, and the main force of the desert war has also been withdrawn. We have no recruits from all over the country without money. There is no gold glittering silver. There is no arbitrarily aristocratic private soldier, no logistics and grain supported by military merchants and the royal family. There is no cluster of cavalry that is earth-shattering, and there is no confidence and discouragement that makes the whole army break into the desert."

"We only have ourselves, the stars of the West, the army of the farmer, the commando of the mercenary, the death squad composed of scum... the main force of the Duke of the West, the skull guard from the ruins are all poor. Clinking, we have more saddles than the horses, and only the first row of the Black Lion Infantry Brigade is a fully trained battlefield veteran. The Baron’s Stardust Guard has even had to replenish the prisoners from the Bone Prison. - There are many aristocrats exiled for sin after the **** years, and quite a few of them are quite family-trained and trained."

"But we can only bite our teeth, through scarce medicine and a small amount of supplies, go deep into the hairless, exhaust the sand dunes, search every corner from the blade camp to the depths of the desert, regardless of sacrifices and those in groups Healing the inbreeding hybrids and the wilderness to fight for you, until they feel the pain, the cost of returning to the old place, the fact of acknowledging the failure, and no longer dare to send people to death, and most of the public opinion."

Taylor looked at the axe on the wall.

It is hard to imagine that he came along the way, the wilderness that was raging in the wind and sand, was once the most fierce battlefield.

"In this, silly big Cohen is a different kind," Tampa said with a smile: "A nobleman who is so stupid that people can't go."

"Cohen?" Taylors said with a slight surprise: "He fought in the desert? Clear the battle?"

"Fighting?"

Tampa snorted from the nose and seemed quite funny.

"He is an iron fighter."

There is nostalgia in Tampa's eyes.

"A tough guy who was born for the battlefield. In three years, he **** a pile of orcs and flew to death."

“Why?” Taylors asked in surprise:

"Cohen's identity... He is the heir to the noble Karabyan family. Is there an entire Wola collar waiting to inherit? Isn't it?"

"How do I know, the aristocrats who come and go," Tampa haha ​​smiled. "How do I know if he has pumped a wind, and he just puts a good day but runs to suffer."

In the heart of Tyres, the image of that stupid big man emerged and he fell into meditation.

"You know, once we met an ambush."

Tampa seems to have a lot of emotion: "The gray hybrid of the Iron Man tribe, waving the hammer with the storm, leaving only the stumps in the place where it passed, when it was carried with the mounds in the mountains... ”

Thales remembered the orc Kandar, remembering the almost unstoppable night raid, suddenly a guilty heart.

"We were killed, lost contact with the light ride, panicked, and fled," Tampa sighed. "The stupid big man and others were forced into the desert, and there was no news for half a month. ""

"We all thought they couldn't come back."

"The team even collected their relics. According to Frank, the baron even had a headache and asked how to write a false accusation to Cohen's nobleman: "Sorry, your boy is dead."

The noisy in the pub is still the same, but Tyres is just listening to Tampa's story.

I saw the boss grow a sigh of relief.

"Then one day... a dozing guard outside the camp suddenly found out, in the distance, on the horizon between the setting sun and the desert..."

"There was a figure."

Tyres’ eyes were condensed.

"Single, alone, crumbling, bruises."

Tyres inhales slightly: "Cohen?"

Tampa nodded slowly.

"The whole blade camp, all of us, including the guards of Baron Williams, stood there, watching the nobleman’s young man squatting all the way, limping, holding the **** The gray hybrid, the infamous killer - the 'cracked meat hammer' of the ugly head of the dead iron."

"He was like that, his consciousness was blurred, he was covered in blood, and he trembled into the camp. Even the most beautiful beauty, Felicia, stood in front of him."

"He just walked all the way, kept his feet, looked confused, muttered to himself, until he fell."

"The baron took the ugly head of the Sisa Iron from the hands of Cohen and tied it to the flagpole."

Time seems to stop at this moment, both Tyres and Tampa are silent.

Until the boss grabbed a bottle of wine, he poured a big sip.

"From that day on, no one in the camp called him a 'little young master', and no one sneaked into his kettle," Tampa put down the bottle and took a deep breath, sighing: "From that day on. He became a 'stupid big man'."

"The good warrior in the blade camp, the real man, ‘stupid big man’ Cohen.”

Tyres has been silent for a long time.

Unexpectedly, the big man who smiled with no face and no brains, and looked like a lack of brains, had such a thrilling and passionate past.

“It’s a good story,” the prince nodded. “It’s worthwhile for the singers to sing a song.”

Tampa snorted, not knowing whether he was in a good mood or his brain was broken. He actually took the initiative to put a plate of food between himself and Tyres and began to eat: "How is he doing now?"

just now?

What floated in the impression of Tyres was Cohen, who had vowed to support him to return to the Palace of the Spirit in the Temple of the Moon six years ago.

"As far as I know, he didn't go home, he was still a police officer in the king, but I haven't seen him for a long time."

"Wangdu..." Tampa sinks.

"I know that he is a nobleman, and the nobles are very complicated and have a lot of things to break."

He shook his head.

"I guess that stupid big man has his own responsibilities and troubles."

Taylors did not speak.

The boss finally sighed slightly: "I hope he is still the real man, stupid as always."

Tyres nodded and finished the beer with a bitter bitterness in the cup.

"He will be," the prince burst into a powerful smile:

"And it will be a fool for a lifetime."

Tampa stared at him for a long time and eventually laughed.

"Yeah, I hope."

"So," Tyres coughed. "After the war, Cohen went to the kingdom, did you come to open this pub?"

"No, I just took over... Did you see the slogan at the door sign? ‘My home’ has been open for two or three hundred years,” Tampa waved:

"When you are tired of the swords and swords... you know, it is more attractive to be ordinary days."

Tyres snorted sarcastically.

"Ordinary little days?"

"Believe me, according to my experience, and the people I know," the prince said with a sigh of relief: "The guy who can be a pub boss in this place is not a 'normal little day'."

"Get it, don't you give you the 'first lesson', don't worry," Tampa glanced at him disdainfully: "Like a girl--you make sure you are not a fast-track girlfriend?"

"I just don't like people counting me..."

"Hah, when you look at your face, you know that you must be pitted from small to large."

Tyres also gave him a polite and hypocritical smile, looking down at his food.

"In other words, are you ready to stay here?"

Tampa frowned. "Do you know that these foods are going to pay?"

"I am waiting for Dean them... Wait, pay?" Taylors gave birth to a glimpse: "But this is what you come up!"

"So I want you to give money - if I brought it, what do I collect?"

Tyres looked at the boss with a stunned look.

"A 闵迪思银币, thank you for your patronage." Tampa smiled and said: "Look at the big face, give a preferential price."

After reluctantly handing over a few Solon silver coins, Tyres took a bite of food with a feeling of not eating white, and looked at the tavern slowly calming down. He frowned and asked: "It is me. The illusion, or are the guests really less and less?"

“In normal times, the later the time, the more people there are in the pub.”

“But recently it’s different. The blade camp is complex and has a curfew every night,” Tampa yawned. “If you stroll around the street during the curfew, you’ll be caught by the patrolling big brothers... you know, Many of the temporary recruits are the first time to come to the blade camp. When the royal army is not in the army, they will take charge of the defense. They don’t know what it means to be 'eyes and eyes only' - either to break the money or to go to jail."

"Just last month," Tampa shook his head. "The famous 100-member mercenary, 'blood whistle', was caught by a lot of people - I didn't use anything to say over there, those new The army that came here did not speak much."

Tyres frowned. "So you have a face, can you say something to the prisoner?"

"How many years have passed, 'My family' has been providing supplies for the Bone of the Bone, and of course some of his own," Tampa snorted high in the ground: "You thought, who took the fast rope that the mouth owed out of the prison." of?"

"Then you introduced the fast rope to Dean and entered the 'Dante's big sword'?"

"You know, they weren't going to accept the kid with a full-mouth Commas accent," the pub owner smiled. "But there seems to be a friend who knows the old Dante family..."

"So, no matter fast rope or Kanze..." Taylors asked intentionally or unintentionally: "Is Dean also introduced you?"

Tampa shook his head.

"Dean was saved by the old Dante in the desert - many of them in the team are like this, because of this, Dante's sword can not be scattered for so many years, even if Dante died."

Tyres thoughtfully.

"He seems very smart, I mean Dean."

Tampa is deeply impressed.

"To tell the truth, people like him who come to be mercenaries are really talented. With his talents and insights, he is in the army. It is no worse than the aristocratic commanders who have a big belly. In just a few years, Dante’s The big sword earned a good reputation."

Taylor's heart moved.

“Do you seem to know these mercenaries very well?”

“After all, this is ‘my home’,” Tampa said quite favorably: “The mercenaries will come here to find a business, or the business will come here to find mercenaries.”

Tyres looked around and looked at the fierce guests, thinking about something.

At this time, several armored figures walked into the noisy pub.

Tampa's eyebrows rose upwards.

"Dear Ricky!"

The boss happily reached out to the oncoming guests: "How long have you been?"

"It’s only a few months." The mercenary named Ricky faintly, reaching out and shaking with Tampa.

Tampa looked at Ricky with a smile, and looked at a middle-aged man with a sabre around him: "New face?"

"This is Cray, from the north, a good hand to make a sword - not a good one," Ricky said, the middle-aged man nodded neatly to Tampa: "Don't worry, he is already our person." I don’t take any private work."

"Unfortunately," Tampa shrugged with a pity: "You know, there are a few businesses that are lacking in the sword."

Thales took his gaze back from the middle-aged man, and the **** sensory sentiment that was promoted after the war in the wasteland gave him little information: the middle-aged man's body was full of strange and inciting power.

Looking at these new mercenaries, Tyres suddenly jumped.

Ricky's man on the left side of his face was looking at the prince coldly, and his wrinkles were deep and locked, and it looked like some years old.

His eyes swept past the time of Tels, and he picked it up slightly.

Taylor was shocked.

"As for this, you still don't know. He just came to the camp, but he has a criminal record, not clean," Ricky sighed and shook his shoulder to the masked man on the left: "Inconvenient face ""

Eventually, the masked man slowly recovered his gaze, and Tyres felt an unforgettable chill from his body.

these people……

very dangerous.

Tyres strongly pressed the inner sense of uneasiness.

"Of course, I only care about my business," Tampa squinted and raised his eyebrows: "How many tables do you want to talk about or find a chick?"

Ricky shook his head.

"In fact, a few tables are not enough," Ricky pulled out a purse from his belt and told others to take the table, leaving only the middle-aged and masked people behind him: "We are going tonight." Tampa, give you two hours, empty it here - including your guys, except for wine and food, don't leave it."

Tampa's brow wrinkled.

"But there are three hours of curfew."

Ricky smiled slightly: "Then we will drink the dawn, don't go out, wait until the next day to ban."

Tampa stared at him.

“Impossible,” the boss shook his head decisively: “You know, I still have to do business, and I have to give it back to the bones the next morning...”

Ricky put the purse on the bar and the smile remained.

"Twenty silver coins, one night, we must know that we have dozens of people."

Tampa smiled.

“This is ‘my home’,” he raised his head and solemnly: “We have principles...”

"So we gave you two hours of grace," Ricky still looks like a good talk, but does not give up:

"Thirty silver coins - we need your place to talk about things."

Tampa glanced at the purse and shrugged his shoulders: "We have to close the door and rest, it is impossible for you to drive so late..."

The middle-aged man behind Ricky smiled.

“Your signboard slogan says ‘Never closes’.”

Tampa looked at him.

"You know, if you write it on the slogan all the time, if it is true..."

The pub boss raised his finger: "Then it won't be written."

The middle-aged man raised his brow: "It makes sense."

It seems that they can't stand their temper, the man with the face is clean and step by step, once again pull out a purse and squat on the bar.

"Fifty silver coins, no more."

Snapped!

Tampa slammed his finger.

"The deal!" He slid and put away the purse.

Tyres sighed and rolled his eyes.

I knew it.

Ricky shook his head and reluctantly took his companion toward one of the wooden tables.

"How, what big business did you pick up?"

Just talking about a good price, Tampa looked at Ricky's back with a smile: "Will you have a night out?"

"On the contrary," Ricky did not return: "After tonight, we left the blade camp - you also saw that the stars of the army are sent to the desert like money, where is there business? do."

After Tampa retracted from the bar, he shook his head with regret: "Yes, it is really bad news, whether it is for you or for me."

Tyres looked at their backs and asked in confusion: "They are..."

"It's ‘blood whistle,’” Tampa said, no matter what he asked.

"Like Dante's big sword, they are also mercenaries, but you better not provoke them - it is a hundred people group, from top to bottom, two or three hundred people, just the soldiers who can be fully armed on the battlefield Hundreds of people, they are not peasant soldiers, each of them is a professional killer like Dante’s big sword."

"They only pick up the work of the war or the royal merchant's franchise business, even the baron looks at them."

"Blood whistle, hundred people group?"

Tyres was shocked, and the few people who watched the blood whistle, some understood where the amazing murder and threat came from.

"From Dante's big sword to the blood whistle, they are all gathered here..." Tyres thought thoughtfully: "So, around the desert, this place is indeed a paradise for mercenaries?"

"heaven?"

Tampa made a slight meal.

"It used to be."

"Almost twenty or thirty years ago, when I was still a young idiot, and there was no arrow in my knees," the boss sighed. "That was the golden age of mercenaries. The stars of the army are safe, the desert tribes Self-contained principles, an endless stream of merchants, adventure seekers looking for treasures, savvy bounty hunters, and arduous missionary sacrifices, everyone is looking for opportunities here."

"And now?"

Tampa shook his head: "The savvy sword like Dante also suffered heavy losses, and the strong **** whistle also found a way out."

“The times are changing,” said Tyres silently: “The world is the same.”

"Yeah, twenty or thirty years ago, the army of the stars could not go to the depths of the desert," Tampa’s eyes showed hope and nostalgia: "This is the privilege of adventurers and mercenaries, who are ferociously embarrassed and alive. Come back to tell the legend, or wait for the visitors to write poetry and sing the Quartet."

"I still remember that at that time, there was a very powerful mercenary team around the desert, from the blade camp to the three countries of the sea, from Levaux to the city of steel, from the dragon kiss to the thorns, regardless of Is it desert or forest, Inner Lake or Dajiang, their footprints are all over these mercenary paradise, I also wanted to join them."

"Is it."

Tyres was absent-minded: he saw Dante’s big swords coming downstairs.

"The mercenary... what is the name?"

Tampa is immersed in his own world, he is embarrassed: "Speaking of the name, hey, they only had nine people at first, so they gave the team a stupid and stupid name..."

"Calling the 'Nine Giants.'"

(End of this chapter)