On the streets of Montreal.

The patrolling soldiers looked at the noisy public bath with envy: "As expected of a 'generous man', this is the first time I have seen a regimental leader asking his subordinates to take a bath! How can those high-ranking nobles Someone who treats us as human beings?"

"Scott, did you see that at noon, the waiter of the 'Oak and Hazelnut' tavern brought in a carload of ale and barbecue? They can probably eat and drink until the evening!"

The companion wearing a white turban sighed with emotion: "Yes, working under a noble like Baron Lothar is much more comfortable than being in the sun and eating sand all day long under Lord Humphrey."

"It is said that the members of this Royal Knights just defeated the Saracen slave cavalry that plundered Tafila. What a boost!"

"real or fake?"

The guard said in surprise: "Before, when the group of slave cavalry were showing off their power around the city of Montreal, Lord Humphrey and those normally arrogant knights did not even dare to fart. As a result, they were killed like this. An army was defeated?"

"Can we still have a holiday?"

"Don't you know that I, John the Honest, never lie?"

The man began to vividly describe the scene he had peeped: "I saw with my own eyes that the carriages in their team were loaded with Saracen scales and broken swords, and they were stained with blood. If they hadn't been defeated, Saracens, where did these trophies come from?”

The companion said thoughtfully: "That's right. When the people under Baron Lothar entered the city, they were all murderous. There were dried bloodstains on their robes. They had obviously just experienced a big battle!"

"This Baron Lothar is really a powerful person, but why have I never heard of his name before?"

In order to show that he was well-informed, the man boasted to his companions: "Hey, to tell you the truth, the husband of my uncle's neighbor's sister is working as a flag bearer under this master. What do you want me to say? This Baron Lothar is by no means the same thing as those idle nobles. Do you know that desert bandit group that used to be so unscrupulous that even Sir Leonard could not do anything about it? It was Baron Lothar who led the people to annihilate it. .”

"The cavalrymen with feathers on their backs under his command are all experienced warriors, and they are more powerful than those knights!"

As he spoke, he was beaming with joy and spitting.

Suddenly someone shouted: "Come quickly, guards, guards, come quickly! Another person is dead!"

"Someone died again?"

The two guards looked at each other. Honest John, who had been bragging about it before, immediately lowered his voice and said: "Wait, don't go there yet. Many people have died mysteriously in the city recently. If you ask me, it must be the evil man in the dry well. It's cool, let's wait until the old man leaves, and then we can go over and pretend."

Scott looked hesitant: "How can this be done?"

John spread his hands: "Why can't you do it? Catching evil spirits is the job of the priests. What does it have to do with us big-headed soldiers? Heavenly Father will forgive us."

The overcrowded public bathhouse was now filled with refreshed sergeants who had just taken a bath. They gathered around the long tables, changing cups and drinking wine from hotels and taverns. BBQ bought here.

The knights gathered in the innermost rooms of the bathhouse and drank specially provided ice-cold wine soaked in the well.

And the sergeants only had ale.

"Have you heard that Master Lothar is going to confer a group of knights this time? I killed two Saracen cavalry this time. Do you think Master Lothar will promote me?"

"What the hell are you thinking about? I killed three people and I didn't even dare to have such a dream!"

"You bitch, how can you kill two of them? When I was charging ahead with the Ax Guard, you were sticking your butt out and using a knife to pry the gold teeth out of people's mouths!"

A group of people laughed and cursed, bragging about their experiences on the battlefield.

If the records they claimed were added up, the number would probably reach an astonishing number of one thousand, and the total number of cavalry under Zahir's command was only just over three hundred.

At this time, the sergeants sitting in the inner room became quiet.

Silence, as if it were contagious, quickly enveloped most of the bathhouse. Someone asked in confusion: "What's wrong with you? You're not talking anymore?"

"My lord, have you finished washing and come out?"

Gudong.

The companion next to him swallowed his saliva and murmured to himself: "Father, where did this beautiful woman come from?"

I saw Prajna and Fringilla walking out of the room one after the other.

Prajna rarely wore a veil. She wore a white armor and held the black shield in her hand. Her tall figure completely covered Fringilla who was following behind.

"She is so tall. She is the tallest woman I have ever seen."

"It's so beautiful. I'm so beautiful that I feel a little flustered. This is simply the devil of hell!"

"Sure enough, I still prefer the devil."

“Father in heaven, please forgive my sins.”

In this era, the images of devils are often extremely beautiful because they need to seduce mortals.

The images of angels are mostly ugly, because they make people awe and fear.

The sergeants whispered.

Someone lowered his voice and said, "Look at that black shield. Heavenly Father is on top. When I charged with my master, I clearly remember that she knocked down a fully armored slave cavalry with just one hand on the battlefield." .”

"She...she is the iron knight next to you? I thought her armor was a bit weird at first, but I didn't expect it to be a woman!"

"It's impossible. How can such a powerful woman exist in this world?"

A winged cavalryman said solemnly: "Watch your eyes. This is the personal witch who follows the grand leader. He has incredible terrifying power. You should all know how miserable the consequences of offending a witch will be. "

The hussars also showed great authority on the battlefield this time. There were people who pointed fingers at them before. After the first battle, even those proud knights had to admit that the performance of the hussars on the battlefield was better than Much more than them.

Someone suddenly realized: "No wonder when I charged with the master on the battlefield, I felt exhausted at first, but then I gained new strength. I thought it was God's blessing."

The place fell silent, and people hurriedly lowered their heads, not daring to look any further.

Someone whispered: "No wonder the chief has not found a wife at this age. If the devil looks like this, I will choose the devil."

The sergeants and knights of the Knights looked at him with eyes wide open, but no one dared to come forward to say hello or strike up a conversation.

In the battle with the Saracen cavalry, Prajna alone killed nearly twenty well-trained Mamluk cavalry, and his record was second only to Hans.

The nickname "Iron Knight" is already known to everyone in the Knights.

If her profession was not that of a heavily armored iron guard, most of the attribute points for each upgrade would be automatically added to endurance and physical strength, and would also be subject to the restrictions of the mount.

Given enough time, it would be easy for her to kill through the enemy formation alone. If she were an Easterner, one comment would definitely come to her mind - the courage of an overlord.

Although Hans is also a defensive retinue, his professional positioning is that of a heavy-armed warrior, which makes his attributes more versatile and more effective when clearing out miscellaneous items.

But if two people fight, the winner can only be Prajna.

Prajna didn't pay attention to the eyes of others.

She stopped under the eaves outside the public bathhouse.

Fulin, who had a hard time chasing because of her short legs, almost didn't stop the car and bumped into Prajna's back. She said angrily: "What's wrong with you, you stupid guy?"

Prajna stared into the distance and said softly: "Didn't you notice? There is a special aura."

Fringilla frowned and twitched her nose: "It smells so bad, what is it?"

"I don't know. It looks like an evil ghost, but it also exudes a strong aura of fire. Maybe it's some kind of spirit body that's unique to this world - go and get rid of it."

Fringilla was a little stunned: "Why should I go?"

Prajna said naturally: "Because I want to protect you, sir. Hans, a little werewolf, is not good at dealing with this kind of spirit. Who else can he do besides you?"

Fulin hummed: "I won't go. If you want to go, you can go by yourself."

Prajna said expressionlessly: "Do you think people are more attracted to a lazy guy who always doesn't want to do anything, or a close sister who can share the worries of adults?"

Fringilla's face suddenly showed an expression of excitement: "What you said seems to be not unreasonable."

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