Chapter 388 is really a lot of tricks

Before pushing Dean's door, Taylors envisioned many possible situations.

The situation at hand is one of them: the suspicious and old mercenary prince shows an uncooperative attitude, regards him as an enemy, and always warns of Tyres.

But the reaction of the other party is too much.

"You don't have to do this."

Tyres stared at Morar, feeling the tingling sensation between the necks, raising his hands in the suspicion and indicating to his opponent.

He calmed his breath and suppressed the sin of the imprisoned prison river. He suppressed the idea of ​​defying the counterattack: "I said I will keep my promise, let you go, no one will stare at you, you will not have trouble."

"You said'?"

Morar’s voice sounded quite abnormal, calm and indifferent: “It sounds like a powerful guarantee.”

The other party did not completely suppress him, but the knife in his hand was precisely and skillfully attached to the artery. Taylors could even clearly feel the surge of neck blood.

damn it.

The Star Prince tried to keep calm, and the back of the bag was on the bed board, and he got a pain in his back.

The suspicious and alert wake of the former Prince Exeter made him extremely uneasy: the other person seemed to have changed personally, as if the former mercenary Dean with a cheerful smile and easy-going personality had died and lived on him. It’s another cold-blooded cruel guy.

Taylors even regretted it: maybe he should go to the army from the beginning.

Not to mention the horrible officers in the desert, at least to find the Star Army in the camp, and then come here with no fault, facing the possible Morar.

but……

Tyles shook his head in the bottom of his heart and drove the idea out.

Do not.

he can not.

"What guarantee do you want, Morar, my life?"

"If I really want to deal with you - whether it is in the big desert or now, I can go to my army, have them as a card, kill you or let you go, it is all my words." ”

Tyres tried to figure out the other's psychology and thoughts.

"But I don't have it, and the reason I did it..."

Tyres swallowed his throat and brought another sting in the neck.

"No matter how I want to deal with you, Morar, once you use the army and use the power of the kingdom, your identity can no longer be kept secret," Prince Star took a deep breath and tried to pull the neck back:

"No matter what I say, even if I explicitly let you go, the secret department or other people who are interested will notice the mercenary that the prince is eyeing. They will take his history, his details, his secrets thoroughly. The water is falling out."

Morar continued to stare at him, a pair of scorpions reflecting the thin moonlight, cold light.

From his expression, Taylor saw a icy cold and... banter?

The feeling of restlessness is getting worse.

"If the Secret knows your identity, the first heir to the dead Longyan City..."

Tyres bit his teeth: "They won't let you go."

"If you fall into the hands of the Secret, everything will be irreparable..."

"This is something you and I don't want to see."

Tyres gasps, thinking of deeper, farther things.

If Morar falls into the hands of the Peruvian...

That girl.

The girl in Longyan City.

Her identity, her blood, and the truth of that night, they were exposed to the black prophet, but it was a matter of time...

Tyres thought bitterly.

By then, her end may be more control than being controlled by Chaman, and it is a hundred times worse - at least Chaman is also concerned about the legitimacy of his throne, and more or less maintains the fragile status of the female grandfather.

As the head of the secret department, Morat Hansen is not Taylors, and the old man in black with a cane has no friendship with the female grandfather.

As a concocter of "Dragon Blood", as long as it is profitable, the Black Prophet will never care if the poor girl will be smashed or unloaded.

That girl.

The girl in the library, the girl in glasses.

That six years ago, because he was taken out of the Palace of the Spirit, and he returned to the girl in the Palace of the Spirit.

The girl who died in the political day and died for him in front of the princes...

Tyres seemed to feel that the pair of glasses on the chest had an unusual weight.

The pupil of Morar slowly focused.

"You don't seem to trust the kingdom secrets that serve you?"

This made Taylors think of it six years ago.

I remembered the dragon blood.

No, no.

Tyres clenched his fists.

The Secrets cannot know Morar.

He can't risk the destruction of Selma and go to the army to deal with it.

That night, everything that happened in the hero’s hall must be an eternal secret. King Nunn is dead, and Niely and Brisbane must also shut up, as for Chaman...

Tyres thought coldly.

No one will use this secret again to concoct a second "dragon blood."

Terspin regained his breath and squeezed an ugly smile: "Trust, it is a rare thing in this age."

Morar's expression is slightly moving.

"But why do you believe me?"

He whispered, the knife in his hand turned a corner, but still attached to the arteries of Tells.

"Because you have no other better options."

Tyres slowly said: "Listen to me, Morar, now leave, as nothing has happened, since then, the name is hidden, away from the eyes of Lombard's minions and secrets, at least you can have freedom."

"I believe that is what you cherish."

This time, Morar watched him for a long time, but his strength was not relaxed.

Taylor looked back at him, hoping that he could recover some reason.

In the end, Morar laughed.

"Ha ha ha ha..."

The laughter is full of chills.

Let the nerves that Tyres finally eased up again.

But what is terrible is not the laughter of Morar, but what he said next.

"You misunderstood, Your Royal Highness."

I saw Morar’s slow-paced, one-word word: “I just asked...”

"Why do you believe me..."

"Must be Morar Walton?"

When this was the case, Thales slammed for three seconds.

what.

He says……

The night at the Blades Camp was quite quiet, and the heavy fortress houses blocked the sand and blocked the spread of sound.

At this moment, the atmosphere in this small room is even more scary.

Tyres looked at his opponent, unbelievable.

"I don't understand." He subconsciously.

Morar snorted.

"Of course you don't understand," the mercenary looked sharp: "It's like the fish on the hook doesn't understand: how can there be a hook in the bait?"

Taylor's hand trembled.

and many more.

The prince despised the "Moraar" who pinched his life in his hand, and his heart was cold.

Do not.

Do not.

He finally realized that he had made a fatal mistake.

"It's too obvious."

Tyres muttered.

He looked at Morar in front of him and remembered a doubt that he had neglected for a long time.

"It's too obvious, your hair, twilight, words and demeanor, political opinion, orc language, including your axe, and the identity of the mercenary... even the origins and accents of the northern people..."

There was a sneer in Morar’s face.

The Star Prince looked at the mercenary in shock.

His brain is working, taking into account things that are not of concern.

He remembered their first meeting.

Since then, this outstanding and outstanding mercenary has led Dante's sword, negotiating, fighting, and surviving in the complex deserts, and the mercenary's life has been vivid.

Even... little famous.

"It's too obvious."

Tyre's pupils focus on the other side, the heart beats faster, and the breathing becomes more urgent.

"You are a mercenary, running all the year round, swaying back and forth... but you are unobtrusive, not hidden, even unscrupulous," Taylors shuddered for his own thoughts:

"You are almost telling a few people who know that Morar is still alive: the prince is here."

"This is not something a person who has escaped for many years will do."

Morar, no, it should be Dean, his smile is still there.

"And the reaction after you have been identified... there is a problem."

"No, you are not him." Taylor stared at the man in front of him, eclipsed.

"You are not Morar Walton." He was dull.

The voice fell.

The cabin is quiet.

The moonlight was cold and scattered to Dean's face, making him look pale and gloomy at the moment.

The first thing that sounded was his low and intermittent laughter.

Dean's shoulders shook slightly, but the hand holding the knife was as stable as ever.

The mercenary who only listened to the bald head faintly said: "No, I am not."

Taylor's breathing stopped for a moment.

"I just didn't expect that you would be so interested in Morar," Dean steadily held the knife in his left hand and whispered: "In the original plan, you took out the defending army and got it. It took a little bit of effort and cost."

Tyres took a long breath and couldn't even take too much action to endanger his neck.

He can't manage that much.

At this moment, he was filled up with horror and remorse in his heart.

"why?"

Taylor's chest is undulating: "Who are you!"

Dean shook his head and gave a soft breath.

He hangs down, close to the face of Tyres, and uses a knife to suppress the possibility of rebellion: "At first, when I was sent to perform this task, I was full of confidence - only the people with the greatest potential and ability Get this glory deep into the enemy and get in touch with the most profound and unforgettable secret..."

"Find the prince who was supposed to die for a long time."

Taylors stunned.

Performing tasks...

Go deep into the enemy...

Find the **** that was supposed to be dying... Prince?

he is……

He is coming...

"But as time flies, the search is day after day, but there is no result. After years of investigation, there is still no news."

Dean’s voice is particularly cold:

"Moral is like evaporating from the human world: no matter the three countries of the sea, the thorns, the dragon kisses the land, the Kangmas, the great desert, I have searched all the places where I found mercenaries, but I never found him. trace."

"I have exhausted all methods, from all the known intelligence, I have tried my best to figure out his psychology, behavior, and goals," Dean said with deep hatred: "Innumerable days and nights, I lurk." In a place full of secret subjects and eyes full of stars, carefully hide yourself and rack your brains to search for Morar."

"No."

Dean gnaws his teeth:

"No clues."

"I am desperate."

Taylor's breath trembled.

By the sin of the prison river, the prince died to force himself to calm down and rethink the current situation.

“So,” said Tyres, frowning: “So you are simply...”

Dean looked at the incredible tays, smiling and seemed to enjoy the pleasure of this moment.

"So, I have no way to turn myself into a man and become a Morar."

The mercenary bit the teeth.

"I imitate his appearance, copy his words and deeds, learn his manners, even his thoughts and his character: Prince? Northern people? Learned the orc language? Comet's students? Mercenaries? Like the lower layer of the blind ?"

His words became more and more urgent, and there was deep resentment and unwillingness in his head.

"I regard his wish as my wish, take his actions as my behavior, go where he is most likely to go, do what he is most likely to do, and look forward to using the suspicious identity of 'Dean'. What to do, to understand something, or to bring out those who are interested in him, to see what clues can be obtained from them - even to lead Morar himself."

The voice of Dean’s voice came to an abrupt end, and his expression was awkward and painful.

"But I still failed."

“No,” the suspicious mercenary hated: “Except for a few suspects who are suspected to be northerners, there is still nothing.”

"In five years, I was like a headless fly, a blind-eyed cheetah, a stiff sand snake, in vain in all possible places where Morar might appear, painful and hopeless."

"There is no good news in one day. There is no trace of him in one day. I have not been able to complete the task in one day. I have been trapped here. I can’t go back, I can’t walk, I can’t get away...”

He stared at Taylors: "A full five years."

"do you understand?"

Taylors calmed down slowly.

So everything is clear, this person in front of him, he is...

I saw Dean sneer and said: "I have had enough. This kind of never-ending, fruitless pursuit, is wasting my sand and sword in the age and talent that I should have done."

His eyes have changed.

"At this time, you have appeared."

Dean looked at Tyres wildly, and the muscles of his face were distorted.

"My savior."

Tyres looked at him slyly, but his right hand quietly touched his waist.

But the old mercenaries noticed this.

The knife in his hand moved gently.

Tyres had to look up and avoid it from embedding his own artery while sighing and dropping his right hand.

"So, you stared at me as early as we met." The prince was annoyed.

Dean didn't care about the little tricks of Tyres. He just shook his head coldly: "At first, I am not sure who you are, especially when we first met the Star Army, you didn't shine from start to finish. Out of identity, even after coming to the blade camp, you have not shown any signs of going to the reinforcements. This makes me more skeptical: maybe you are not the one I want?"

"I have to press and hold the urge to do it again and again... My temptation must be on the spot, I am lurking here, isolated, helpless, a little careless, I will never be overwhelmed, drowning in the secrets and stars that come from the wind. In the army."

"Until tonight."

The cabin is still quiet, but the atmosphere here is completely different.

The indifferent man suppressed Tells, and turned the first night of the mercenaries home into a night of conspiracy and dangerous conflict.

"You are a spy, a spy, a special agent, or something else," Taylors said unwillingly:

"You are not coming to me."

Dean raised his eyebrows.

"No," he shook his head, quite satisfied:

"Flying Taylors, you are an unexpected surprise - maybe not my first goal, not the task I am lurking here, but there is no doubt that you are a ticket, I am jumping out of this bottomless bottom The quagmire of the ... the charter."

Taylor closed his eyes and exhaled in pain.

"Haha, it seems that King Chaman and you all know the news of Morar, she will not be satisfied," Dean sighed: "But I caught you, this is at least ok - I can finally leave Here it is."

Taylor's heart moved.

and many more.

He opened his eyes and ran with a knife on his neck.

"she was?"

Thales asked strangely: "You said, ‘her’?”

"Yes, dear Prince Teres."

Dean nodded lightly and sneered at the corner of his mouth.

His upper body is slightly low, posing a non-standard etiquette:

“The darkroom is saying hello to you.”

Taylors didn't answer - his sighs were all stuffed in his chest.

The man and the teenager were silent for a while.

For a long time, Taylors took a sigh of relief.

"What are you going to do? Take me off?"

"Where do you want to go? Don't forget that this is the blade camp. You take me, go west to the north, to the desert where the stars are full of troops? Or go east to south, and simply enter the inland land of the Star Kingdom?"

Dean shook his head.

"The situation here is really bad, but there is always a way."

Tyres snorted.

"So you are not only Morar, but you are sent to search for the detective of Morar."

He frowned slightly.

"But... Dear Dean, do you really think that I will be stupid enough to take the risk, stay up all night, and confront you?"

Dean's smile solidified.

"You haven't thought about it?"

Tyres whispered: "How did we meet?"

Dean gave a glimpse.

But at this time, unexpected things interrupted the confrontation between the two people.

Hey.

A soft bang.

The light of the bright hall shines into this dimly lit cottage, and the two people on the bed are clearly seen.

Tyres and Dean Qiqi turned their eyes.

I saw the drunken mercenary Xin Ding, the fast rope carrying an oil lamp, standing in front of the door in confusion, maintaining the posture of pushing the door.

Both of them are stunned.

Fast rope yawned and slept.

"Sorry, Dean, I didn't want to wake you up, I want to get a big size in the middle of the night, to get some butt..." The fast rope muttered: "The bottles of wine must have been prescribed. kill me……"

A second later, he saw Tyres, who was suppressed by Dean on the bed, and suddenly stunned.

The mouth is bigger than the egg.

In the incredible eyes of the two, the fast rope slammed his eyes!

He stuttered and said with amazement: "You can rest assured that I have not seen anything... I mean, you can continue, I swear I will not say anything to Louisa..."

The fast rope was close to his eyes, and he stepped in carefully, for fear of disturbing anything.

He touched a broken cabinet by the bed: "So where is the thing..."

On the bed board, the two people who are nervous are reacting.

The two are competing to speak!

"Quick rope, things are not what you see..." Dean holding his opponent frowned: "This guy is very suspicious, I suspect he may be..."

"No, fast rope, I am Prince Teres, he is a Northland spy!" Tyres, who was under pressure, said hard: "Hurry up and find the camp..."

Dean’s knife smacked hard and blocked the words of Tyres in his throat.

I saw the fast rope squinting and rubbing it to the side of the cupboard.

"Wow, role playing? Torture the prince?"

I saw the mercenary new smile and smiled: "You guys... tricks... really much..."

At this time, the difference is steep!

I accidentally 5,000 words, hey, no training, no swords.

(End of this chapter)