Chapter 496 Crow

The yellow sand is still awkward, and the first yang is old.

Diller rode on the horse, as the saddles floated up and down, staring blankly at the horizon that connected the dust and the clouds.

Gray and fuzzy.

Just like the old.

After a few seconds, under the kind reminder, Dreux turned around and looked straight ahead:

More than a dozen of the "gates" that refused to block the horses were hard-boiled and hardened by the hard-boiled land. Later, the bastions of high and low cascading groups stood guarded by solemn guards and flew in the air.

Of course, there is also a banner like a misty star.

Stardust battle flag.

Just like the old.

Not surprisingly, a team of camp guards came forward and arrogant.

They have a conflict with the team of Dele, from the squawk, roar, to shoving, collision, and so on.

It is like two stallions that are eating in the same place as the horse.

Dürer did not ask, let the situation develop, just take care of the water bladder in the saddle bag.

In the West, the tongue will tell you faster than the eyes:

The desert is not far away.

When Dyle swallowed the third sip, and his guard captain pointed angrily at the flag behind him, the conflict reached a climax: the two sides, who were glaring at the same time, could no longer hold their emotions, and they slashed their swords and bowed their bows. .

His guards gave orders and hundreds of rides immediately spread the battle formation.

The camp guards behind the gates rushed out and surrounded them with gnashing teeth.

And Dreux still glimpsed, on the highstand of the observatory, more than a dozen magic guns and defending cities smashed out of the mouth and aimed at them.

The tense atmosphere is on the verge.

Just like the old.

Deller, who was still riding on the horse, snorted low.

He lifted the water bladder again, and swallowed the fourth sip of water gracefully and freely.

Then, of course, at the last moment, "Running horse" Frank happened to be at the door, sternly stopped the remaining standing soldiers, and then courteously and respectfully came to Dele, asking him to forgive the royal reserve army in the extraordinary period. "The necessary vigilance."

It is as if they really have a "normal period."

Then, compared to eleven years ago, Frank, who looked old, represented the Baron of the Blades and welcomed them warmly.

By the way, the Baron himself is busy and can't help but apologize.

Just like the old.

As a result, their team stepped into the camp in disdain and hostility, marching into the main road and welcoming the noisy vocals.

Dreux faded from the lazy exhaustion on the road, straightened his waist, tightened his shoulders, letting the horse "saber" leisurely and elegant, quiet and not alertly moving forward, the guards on both sides riding on the horse, due diligence Responsible to open the road, the queue is neat, imposing.

The noisy camp is quiet.

In doubts and surprises, the people on the street first glared at them, about five seconds.

Then, the first group of people first blinked, trembled, and both hands pouted, giving a repressed whisper.

They yelled at the banner behind Dele and told the unreported person what the flag represented.

In the face of all eyes, Dele tightens his muscles: whether it is the back, arms or cheeks.

Just like the old.

After about three seconds, the crowd exploded.

In a shocking sound of siege warfare, Dele's **** captain skillfully raised his face and looked fierce. The special long whip made a beautiful roundabout in the air, giving a warning-like explosion.

"Let's go!"

The captain’s echo echoed between the fortresses, more than a second.

Then, the crowds that crowded the streets and blocked the team were scattered in a messy situation.

There are many rushes to run back and forth, screaming and screaming, and the merchants who have been rushed to rush to complain, and the sinister curses of those who have been unlucky in the chaos.

Until the end, only those sides of the road and the streets and alleys were left behind. Most of them tried to squeeze the body shape into the corner and tightened it. At the same time, they showed awe or curious eyes, and from time to time sneaked to the team of Diller. I took a look at it, and many of them focused on Dreiser.

Just like the old.

Centurion of centuries, the perception of deafness, at least in this land, few people dare to pass the banner behind Dyle.

Very few.

but.

Not without.

Dre's eyes swept through the streets mixed with dust and dirt, and recovered from the two sneaky scorpions and scorpions. Before he responded, the guards who had opened the road ahead had a whip. The two men even cried and crawled away from the empty streets.

Dyle looked at the dust that was raised by the whip, and if he had nothing to do, he pulled up the mask and covered his mouth and nose.

It’s been eleven years since he last came to the Bladefang camp: the haze of the desert war has long since gone.

But the blade camp is still the same.

Confusion, bloody, dirty.

Even the few blackened house bastions that were apparently burnt into ruins in recent days are not unobtrusive.

Just like their West.

When he was a child, Dele’s father used to be full of alcohol and fierceness to whip him—in fact, he was whipping servant, because every time his father wakes up, if he finds that he has a scar on his body, he will be tortured with anger. The servants, because they did not care for the little masters, told Deleci what they used to be:

A free, wild, multi-gold, simple, unfettered, accessible land of four sides, also filled with exotic beauty and all the wines from across the continent.

Anything can be solved with a sword.

That is the West.

Their paradise.

Of course, the father said that the West, Dram has never seen it.

In fact, he spent most of his adult life in his hometown.

On the night of the eight-year-old, Dale’s alcoholic father ran into his room as usual, and “teaching him something”.

His mother, under the temptation of the servant's accustomedness, also rushed in as usual, to take Diller to leave.

Only that time, his father was very drunk.

superb.

That time, the drunk father, not in the hands of the whip.

It is a sword.

That sword is very sharp.

Too sharp.

Drew suddenly felt that the color in front of him suddenly turned red.

He unnaturally adjusted his sitting position and subconsciously pressed his back shoulder to dispel the bright red in front of him.

The scars of that decades ago still seem to be faint.

[Anything can be solved with a sword. 】

Thinking of his father's words, Dreux snorted.

He remembers that on the wedding night, when his wife asked him where the shackles behind him came from, and he calmly answered the "battlefield", he was almost the wife of a half-child, and the half of his face was shocked. Half of it is the expression of worship.

battlefield.

My husband is a real warrior, the wife said, her soft fingers touched the sly, with pride and reverence in her eyes.

Thinking of this, Dele held the horse's fingers tight.

The battlefield of the shit.

Shit.

His breath is rushing.

Dyle went to the battlefield and was hurt. After leaving his hometown, the aunts and couples insisted on raising him with the tradition of the West. In fact, he had several war wounds that he could bring, and some even the hardest. The soldiers who have dealt with it have seen it, and they have to give a thumbs up.

Once, the one that flowed out from it was also the blood of bright red.

But not that one.

Dele touched his back shoulder and his face was tight.

No.

Not even that kind of bright red.

No.

He still doesn't know why he is lying on the wedding night.

Still the most intimate person in this life.

But that is too late.

Too late.

Just like that night.

Diller’s hand slowly loosened and left the scar.

He still remembers how the strangers broke into the castle after the incident: the soldiers were rude and fierce, their armor was painted with skulls with four eye holes, facing them, the family’s guards were also atmospheric I dare not take a bite.

Also on that day, Dele, who was seriously injured and stunned, saw many people.

The old duke, who is hugged in the body but not angry, and his nephew heir.

The old Bozedorfov who once took Dürer.

And the rushing from the east, his aunt and uncle.

Of course, there is the prince who is crowded and honorable.

The father who has always been overbearing and arrogant, stood alone in the center of the hall, facing a group of noble people, keeping a few awake, pale, and low-browed.

The last thing Döhler remembered was what the prince said.

His father, first screaming, then rushed to the prince with anger, and after being stopped by the fierce strange soldiers, he fell to the ground like a lost soul, helplessly to Dele.

He still remembers his father's eyes.

And Dreiser himself was held in his arms by the tears of the rain but the extraordinarily tough aunt, and finally got on the carriage and left the castle.

Away from hometown.

Together with the mother's coffin.

I will go through the years.

Dreux never saw his father again. In the era of turmoil, the latter died in the encirclement of Yongxing City.

Just like...

That prince.

Thinking of this, Dele slammed his eyes open.

At the end of the street, he saw the tower.

And standing under the tower...

Another prince.

————

"Of course, if your Highness wants to go out and have two drinks, don't go to the ‘My Home’ pub in the south without an acquaintance...”

"Hey, cough, I tell you, the heart that forced the boss can be black, and often there are unlucky people who are so drunk and drunk there, wake up and find themselves lying in the village. In the meantime, not only is the money gone, but an old man is still on the body... or worse: lying in the prison of the bones, with a group of old men on his body... Oh, we haven’t known how many lost lives since we served. Young men and old men..."

Tyres yawned and went downstairs, listening to the snake hand eagerly introducing him to the customs of the blade camp.

The Wings of Legends is not joking.

Because only the next morning, the snake hand responsible for guarding the tower of the ghost prince took his dozens of "freaks" (the only woman, the spirit blade continues to cast a gloomy look at the prince) I knocked on the door and carefully indicated that the team had been assembled and asked the prince who was sleepy: it was time to "give back to the hometown."

Looking at the sun not far from the horizon, looking at the other seemingly flattering but pitiful look, Tyres sighed and finally dismissed the cruel idea of ​​letting the snake hand go back to Rome to "confirm" .

It turns out that the brave and good-spirited Baron Roman Williams is really very...

Be careful.

He can't wait to...

Drive him away.

Just for...

A sword sent by someone else?

Therefore, when Tyres yawned and packed up the baggage, wearing a coarse cloth ("Are you sure you should not try this? This is the best reward for our team, you can see it again, the bright red, full The bright gold powder on the chest, even the cuffs and collars are gold-plated, how can it be vulgar? Even the gray hybrids are super-loving! Even our baron himself is reluctant to wear..." - Controlling clothes with abilities When he walked behind the snake hand and walked down the horrible ladder of the ghost prince, he couldn’t help but whisper to the air around him.

"You know, according to the letter, the wing of legend was once the messenger of Prince Hayman."

"Imagine the guy with a stinky face and the way he ran his legs and sent letters... My God, even the comets are cuter than that guy..."

Thinking of this, Tyres couldn't help but hold the "warner" sword in his arms a little tighter.

A few seconds later, there was a whispering hoarse answer in the air:

"But... that's a good face."

Tyres is a slogan.

It seems that his uncle, Prince Hayman, is probably also a guy who looks at people.

Taylors subconsciously looked back at the dilapidated tower of the ghost prince, and there was a burst of turmoil.

In front of him, the snake hand who had to help the prince to carry the baggage was especially cherished with every moment the prince stayed together, and he was eager to talk to the interested (in fact, Tells just mentioned it). The prince introduced the Western and the fangs. Every aspect of the camp:

"Oh, since you asked, then I have to say, don't mess with the mercenaries! I mean, although they all sell their swords, but they are jealous, hey, the swords are all abnormal. Hey, the ghost knows whether it was a murderer who came to the camp before. For the sake of money, everything is done. Unlike us, we are all good soldiers serving the kingdom, honest, loyal, law-abiding, responsible. Have a legitimate identity!"

Probably to figure out the prince's good temper, the snake hand said this when he was particularly confident and righteous, but the sinister fire behind him and the subconscious mind touched his head and looked away.

Between the talks, they finally walked out of the Ghost Prince Tower and joined the Stardust Guards, which were also dressed under the tower – apparently also the soldiers of the “freak”.

The snake hand did not feel the expression of the two subordinates, waving his hand in excitement.

"And, since Your Highness, you asked the pub in the Blades Camp..."

The sharp edge behind him jerked up a bottle, and awkwardly pressed the bottle to the lower edge of the chest. He gestured overbearingly and squeezed out one by one to know that it was the exaggeration of the mirror yesterday. Smile, look at Tyres with the look of the prey.

"Cough, although I can't take you there, I still spare no effort to bring you a good wine. It's definitely a Western waste. Just remember that we have been here for you in the past few days... Please forgive yesterday's accident. But please believe me, I am not afraid of those big men, but the duke of the stinky is too sudden, you know, for you, I can..."

Faced with the look of the snakeman's face, Taylors had to slam the bottle that was sent with enthusiasm in the open space - it was not easy, because you should avoid the bottle while pushing away Open her chest.

"No, wow, I mean... amount, thank you, but I really don't drink..."

But the awkward atmosphere quickly came to an end.

"Snake... amount, team, captain?"

The sound of the strange fire came, and the tales and the snake hand stopped at the same time.

The hustle and bustle of the streets and lanes quickly disappeared, replaced by drum-like hooves.

The members of the freak squad are discolored.

The same doubted Thales opened the snake hand and, with good vision, saw a flag rising slowly from the distance between the fortresses.

"That is……"

Under the banner, in the streets and alleys, a team of armor is bright, riding a mighty cavalry, four columns, in an orderly manner, toward the ghost prince tower.

No less than a hundred rides.

The banner of the leader is painted...

"Single-winged crow."

The fascination in the team is not undoubtedly confusing.

Single-winged crow.

In the heart of Tyres, I remembered the encounter with Dante’s great swords in the desert:

"Is that commando, ‘Thunder Crow’?”

The edge of the blade is a stiff face:

"Sunset, don't be them again!"

This is like what is lit, the freaks scream, and the complaints come one after another:

"Then I eat and drink on this road and I still have a fart of oil..."

"Nima, 60%, the last batch of goods they asked for 60%, 60%!"

Seeing that the cavalry's ranks are getting closer and closer, the geeks are unobtrusive, and the snakes frown and comfort them:

"Well, the Raven is a Raven, what's wrong, let's not have a prince here, they don't dare..."

But in the crowd, the strange fire that has been holding a piece of bread shook his head:

"Do not."

"Look carefully at their crow flag."

In the eyes of the strange fire, with a strange look, took a sip of bread and pointed to the banner that is getting closer:

"Inlaid with gold."

The freaks were quiet, and everyone’s expressions were frozen.

With a bang, the bottle in the hands of the Spirit Blade smashed on the ground.

But no one cares.

"No way……"

The snake hand carrying the prince's baggage sneaked in two steps, and his round eyes were fixed on the flag.

In the next second, the snake hand took a sigh of coolness.

"I have one -"

This time, Taylors also saw it: indeed, the edge of the flag is set with gold.

"It's awful!"

The snake hand screamed and turned around at the speed of the wind!

"Fast and fast, formation formation! Put on the armor, don't eat any more! You can't lose your momentum!"

The spirit blade, the strange fire, the fascinating eyes... The whole freak squad moved in a mess, as if they saw a monster.

Leave a face of Taylors:

"I do not understand?"

The snake hand hurriedly arranged his subordinates, but he did not care about Tyres’s inquiry:

"Go personally to inform the Baron, my mom..."

Tyres can only clear their throats and attract their attention:

"So, um, you, have a hatred with the Thunder Crow?"

After kicking in the eyes, the snake hand finally reacted, and he turned around and immediately changed his charming look:

"No, Your Highness, 'Thunder of the Thunder' is just the nickname of the second team of the Ravens Guards - the Ravens are all recruiting soldiers, the mud legs and the old and the thick, the ratio of the Raven Whistle is not much, we don't care about them. It."

The snake hand turned back and looked at the increasingly close knights.

I saw him holding his index finger, gnashing his teeth, and envious of his face:

"But this group of people, have you found out, the cost of their equipment to the mount... almost all of them are crow whistle--not worse than the guards of Williams in the standing army."

Thales narrowed his eyes: As he said, the knights immediately had sharp eyes, good movements, and the spirit of the mount, the color of the coat, and the arrow from the sword to the bow and feathers.

But he also saw more: after the high-winged single-wing crow flag, there are at least ten flags.

Lightning, spiders, giant axes... The patterns and textures on these flags are different, just a little short, followed by the crow flag slowly.

The prince frowned.

"As for their gold-grain flag... Your Highness, this is not the Raven, but the Ravens... the first team."

The eyes of the snake hand reveal taboos and awe:

"On the western front, we call them..."

"The head crow."

Crow?

Tyres looked at the horrible freak squad and he quickly understood what it meant.

The team holding the gold-winged single-winged crow flag came to their close.

The cavalry are divided into three teams:

A team came from both sides, scattered and stood, occupying the edge of the open space and the main road, it seems that the sentry post is habitually arranged;

The second team is all soldiers carrying flags. They are horizontally opened with the gold crow flag as the center. They skillfully stand up and strive to show each banner.

The third team is also the most uncomfortable cavalry. It comes in two columns. When they are close to the freak, they stop and turn to the sides, then return to the horse and face each other. .

Looking at their neat steps, Taylors couldn't help but think of the Renaissance Palace six years ago, and the guard posts and guards there are probably the same.

"I am going to go, as for what, it's quite good, pretty..." The stunned complained, but he took another look at the mighty cavalry around him, and the arrogant tone was unconsciously weakened:

"...It’s quite like that."

In the face of this group of imposing "headed crows", and then look at the team of geeks standing up, the face of the snake hand becomes more and more ugly.

At the rear of the team, the cavalry parked in the field were skilled and elegantly retreating, giving up a noble aristocratic knight.

The Cavaliers are not old, thirty years old, and they are calm and calm. He wears gold and black armor, and his posture is straight and tough, revealing a temperament that is incompatible with the chaotic camp.

Tyres sighed and opened the freaks that looked a little distracted. He stepped forward and the snake hand slammed and rushed to catch up with three or two steps.

The aristocratic knight saw Teres far away, and he turned to the bottom of the saddle, and the cavalry behind him said that they had dismounted.

The knight of the prime year gave the horse and the sabre of the waist to the subordinates and gave them a gesture of pressing down. They walked alone through the passage of the subordinates and entered the formation of the freak.

The snake hand raised his chest nervously, cleared his throat, and prepared to say something.

"That, hey, this is..."

But the knight is like not seeing him at all, just taking care of himself and passing by the snake's hand, not squinting.

A guard standing on the left side looked at the snake hand with a blank expression, and the latter suddenly turned red. All the words were in his mouth and could not be said.

His arms lifted up a few times, seemingly hesitant to stop the other side, but after all, did not have the courage to step forward, just watched the knight walk forward.

I saw the nobility knight regardless of it, all the way forward, stopping in front of the seemingly shabby Taylor.

He looked at Taylors silently, his eyes clear and he couldn't read his emotions.

Tyres frowned slightly, looking at the young knight's chest, the single-winged crow pattern.

"Honor prince Teres."

The aristocratic knight gently opened his mouth and his voice was smooth and nice.

I saw him clenching his right hand with iron gloves, sticking it to his left chest, nodding his head slightly, and the etiquette was just right and impeccable:

"Revived Wang Shufeng, the successor of the 13th Count of the Founding of the People's Republic."

"The conscious of the kingdom, the watchman of the West, the guard of the wing."

The knight of the prime year looked up and his face was light.

"Dele Kloma."

There was a small commotion in the freak.

The knight named Diller took off his right hand iron glove and reached out to Taylors:

"For you."

Believe me, I have been thinking about how to write the next story for a month, just writing, only occasionally playing games to watch movies (have not turned around!)

By no-faceless sword

(End of this chapter)