Knight with Wand

half an hour ago.

At an alleyway of a low house in the village, a few idle young people gathered at the corner. A young man with bruises on his face leaned against the leader's seat and looked at something.

The last young man who was called finally arrived late. He smiled innocently and saw the traces on the leader's face. He stuttered and asked as if his mind couldn't turn around: "Brother Bo. Boris? You, On your face again."

Boris immediately slapped the stupid Hawk on the head with an angry slap.

"You stutter, shut your stinky mouth, I know what happened to my face!"

"Oh, I, I, I, I just care and ask."

Hawke, who had been slapped, did not dare to say anything more, and walked toward the people behind him as if he was aggrieved.

The few scoundrel-looking young men who arrived early came to Hawke's ear and laughed: "Don't get into trouble, it's not the lioness in the old cripple's house. The eldest brother was beaten severely last time, and he has been holding his breath for the past two days. Woolen cloth."

"You guys think I'm deaf? I'm just giving in to that bitch because she's a woman." Boris glared at her fiercely.

Several followers quickly shut their mouths, but secretly murmured in their hearts: How many years have I been beaten by Xiaoyi, and I have been beaten by Fatty again and again, and I have never won, right?

"Okay, don't talk nonsense. Have you seen that guy?" Boris pointed at the strange boy outside the alley.

The hooligans leaned over and looked around.

Not far away, at a tailor's stall, a disheveled young man, shirtless and in tatters, seemed to be haggling with the tailor's aunt.

"I don't know him, he looks unfamiliar."

"I've never seen this beggar come to our village. Where did he come from?"

Several people were talking about it.

"Where are the eyes? How can a beggar have so much money to buy so many clothes and shoes? Look at that thing on his waist!" Boris reminded these cowards impatiently.

Only then did they notice the sword on the young man who looked like a beggar.

There is nothing unusual about the sword. Every wealthy family in the village has it, but that sword is different. If you look closely, you can see that the material of the scabbard is very beautiful and exquisite, and the paint surface is smooth and flat. Although the entire hilt and the mouth of the scabbard are covered with rags, it looks like There is no main decoration, but complex and gorgeous carvings can still be seen on the only exposed sword grid.

"Hey, that kid looks like a savage. Where did he get such a beautiful sword?"

"It seems... very valuable."

The followers said with bright eyes.

"What do you country bumpkins know? It's not just valuable."

Boris licked his lips, his eyes became cold, and then said: "I have seen the baron's sword, and the lord's sword does not have such a gorgeous sheath! This kid is not a savage, I am afraid he is a runaway slave of some noble lord. , that sword must have been stolen from his master."

"Huh?. Real or fake?" The hooligans looked at each other.

"How about calling you stupid? Take a closer look at that kid's face. He is covered in dust and a little dirty, but he looks handsome. Look at his skinny skin and tender flesh. How can there be such a beggar? It's probably some aristocratic master who has been raising a doting slave since he was a child." Boris smacked his lips, feeling that his inference was very reasonable.

".Noble adults, they don't play with women, but they play with men? Are you so perverted?"

"Shit, what do you know? This is called upper class!"

"Yes, yes, can your interest be the same as ours?"

Several of the followers started chirping with curiosity and joy, and they suddenly felt their eyes were opened.

"My eldest brother is still smart. Then let's report it to the village elder quickly and recruit people to capture him and send him back to the noble master. Wouldn't it be a great achievement?" A follower suggested to his eldest brother excitedly.

"Idiot, why are you recruiting people from the village? If you capture him, it will have nothing to do with us." Boris glanced at him with hatred: "Besides, even if we kidnap that kid back to his master, How much can the noble lord reward us?"

The followers suddenly understood their eldest brother's intention, but some of them couldn't help but retreat quietly in their hearts: "Well, eldest brother, are you ready to call us here?"

". It's a runaway slave anyway. Who will care about his life and death? Find a place to surround him and ask him to hand over his sword. If he dares to resist, just kill the kid and throw him into an uninhabited ditch. Hum, If I take that sword to the city, I can sell it for fifty gold crowns! Then everyone will have a share." Boris laughed sinisterly.

"How much more?!"

The few hooligans who were just joining in the fun suddenly widened their eyes and took a breath.

Several people were so frightened by the estimated huge sum that their legs weakened: "Fifty or fifty gold crowns!?"

You know, even if an ordinary farmer encounters a good year and saves money throughout the year, it will be difficult for him to save seven or eight silver coins and fifty gold crowns. This is something that he will never see even if he works in the fields until the day he dies. of huge sums of money.

The followers could not help but breathe heavily.

After doing this, even if a few of them share some of the soup, they will all become rich!

"Look at your potential." Seeing the excitement of his younger brothers, Boris was secretly proud.

He didn't lie. In the past, out of curiosity, he asked the old cripple blacksmith in the village how much the lord's sword was worth. The answer the old cripple gave really made him dumbfounded.

The sword on the young man's waist in front of him is even more beautiful than the sword on the Baron's body just by looking at the scabbard. As long as the blade inside is good, it will probably cost more than fifty gold crowns. He even specifically said it was less.

"Have you brought all the guys?" Boris glanced at everyone.

"Don't worry, big brother, I've got them all." Several little hooligans patted the daggers and knives on their waists. They thought they were for fighting, but they didn't expect to really use them.

"Remember, I'll trick him into the woods later. Don't talk. Just follow my orders."

Boris ordered in a vicious tone. Suddenly, he saw that Hawke's waist and hands were empty, and he was furious: "Stuttering, are you here for a picnic? Where's your dagger?"

"I thought, I thought, it was just a fight." Hawke explained tremblingly with a bitter face.

"Forget it, I can't count on you, a waste anyway." Boris spat on the ground.

"Big brother! That kid is gone!"

"Huh? You idiots don't keep an eye on it."

"He seems to have gone out of the village."

"Then why are you still standing there? Go find him!"

On the river bank at the end of the village, the ruffians surrounded the three foreign teenagers in front of them.

"What do you want?" Leon put his left hand on the hilt of the sword, staring impatiently at the group of mountain hooligans who obviously had bad intentions.

Hearing Leon's foreign accent, Boris looked at the three people in front of him with a stern look, his eyes wandering around them. He originally thought that there was only one person, but he didn't expect that the boy had companions by the river. No wonder he bought so many clothes.

He could see that the three people's hair was not yet dry. After washing and changing into new clothes, even the boy he had targeted had lost his dusty look. The boy who was suspected to be a runaway slave was now white and clean and full of energy. At first glance, he even looked like a son of a noble.

However, Boris looked at the tattered clothes they had changed and thrown aside, and then looked at the tall boy wearing tattered chain mail outside his clothes. He became more certain of his previous guess.

They must be runaway slaves! Maybe they have committed a crime. A white and tender male favorite, a tall coolie, and another one with no special features, maybe a handyman? How did the sword reach his waist? Forget it, it doesn't matter.

They are just three escaped slaves. Although they are not short and strong, they have more people on their side.

"You are the one who asks this?" Boris shouted fiercely, and he made up a crime in his mind and spit all over his face: "I am the captain of the militia in this village. I suspect that you are spies of the Kantadar people. Now follow us honestly."

Leon laughed angrily. The weapons in the hands of these thugs were either daggers or short knives, and one of them was holding a sickle. Except for the leader in front of him who was neatly dressed and carrying a short sword, everyone was wearing short clothes and linen pants, and looked crooked. They didn't even have a cheap spear. How dare they call themselves militia?

"We are just passing by here, and we have no intention of causing trouble. Just tell us what you want to do."

"Even a spy will not say that he is a spy. I advise you to accept the interrogation and hand over all your weapons! Start with the sword on you! Otherwise, don't blame me for being rude." Boris drew out his dagger and threatened without any concealment.

The followers behind him also drew out various weapons.

Leon was stunned. It turned out that he was tempted by the money. He shook his head, and his remaining patience gradually disappeared.

"Unfortunately, this sword is our only property." He drew out his long sword and shook the sword: "If you really want it, just use your life in exchange."

Boris didn't care what the boy in front of him said, but he was happy in his heart.

Without the rag covering it, the hilt was covered with gorgeous gold plating and gemstones. The unsheathed blade shone with dazzling silver light. The blade was straight and beautiful, without any damage. Even laymen could see the exquisite craftsmanship of the beautiful inscriptions.

More than fifty gold crowns, definitely more than that!

The eyes of the gangsters seemed to be blinded by the beauty of the sword.

"It's hard to persuade the damned ghost with good words." Leon narrowed his eyes. Although he encountered many monsters along the way, he really had never killed a living person. Now it would be okay to take these village bandits with ulterior motives to see blood.

Lohak had a sneer on his face. He took off the broken sword full of gaps from his waist: "Don't waste time talking to them, Leon. I can deal with these rotten fish and shrimps by myself."

Azerien also drew out the dagger, but he kept thinking about the gains and losses in his head.

He was not worried about these despicable hooligans, but he was a little worried that if he killed these rural scoundrels, he would be wanted in a foreign country.

"Boris, what stupid thing are you doing again?"

Suddenly, a girl's crisp scolding voice came from behind the hooligans.

The ruffians instinctively shrank their necks, and their faces were terrified as if mice met cats.

Boris's expression also froze.

As if he felt the bruises on his face that were still aching, he felt that his good things were ruined again, and squeezed out the name that made him miss it and hate it so much from his teeth.

"Olivia!"

Boris gritted his teeth and looked behind him.

A petite blonde girl in a long skirt walked towards the river.

The beautiful ponytail behind the girl's head swayed left and right with her steps, foreshadowing the increasing anger on her cold and pretty face.

The girl only had a wooden stick picked up from somewhere, but it was like a terrifying sword in her hand.

"Brother, the Golden Lion is here. What should we do? Or let's just forget about it today." A local thug with a guilty look on his face suggested to Boris.