brother wolf

The stalemate was broken by a blow dart. This tribe belonging to the jungle was very good at fighting. Malros raised his hands high, and the strange cry of Ula Ula did not stop them from stopping the weapons in their hands.

The boss stood in front of me, slashing the arrows and spears with his long sword, as well as the small darts or darts that were hard to guard against from the Chalters hiding in the big trees next to them. blowpipe.

Seeing that there is no hope of communication, we are fighting and retreating. On the one hand, the boss wants to ensure our safety, and on the other hand, he does not want to kill these charters, which will cause our operation to fail this time, so it is inevitable that we will be a little bit tied up in action.

The consequence of these concerns was that we both took blowpipes and darts, and soon I was feeling dizzy.

I yelled at my boss, "Toxic."

He turned his head to look at me, his face was a little pale, and after a little hesitation, he pulled me back into the forest.

We ran wildly in the forest, I was pulled hard by the boss, and I stumbled behind him. There were charters in front of us, behind us, and beside us, and those back arrows came from tricky angles. Although I tried my best to dodge, I was hit by another blow dart.

I feel nauseous, I have chills, the toxicity is already on me, and I don't know when it will come down.

Malros, who was following us, has disappeared. We don't know whether he was captured, killed or separated, and we have no power to take care of it.

The palms of the boss were sweating, and the palms that had been dry and warm became slippery and cold. I knew that he had more darts in his body than me. The intense exercise made the poison in the blood attack faster, but the boss did not stop Footsteps, without even looking back, maybe he has never belonged to the type that will never give up until the last moment.

We are creatures of the wilderness, and we have a natural sense of belonging and intimacy with the grassland and the woods, but the charters behind us are also like us, children of nature who have not been assimilated by civilization, and they are familiar with this forest , this place is like their home.

In this situation, our escape is more and more difficult.

It began to rain in the sky, and the bean-heavy rain fell on us, making our skin faintly numb. The boss looked up at the sky, and the rain flowed down his face, along his beautiful neck, and sank into his clothes.

Like him, I raised my head and drank the rainwater desperately. I also took off my clothes. We wrung out the clothes that were full of water, and the water that flowed down also entered our mouths.

Maybe this is a native method from the prairie. Drinking enough water may dilute the venom in the body.

Helpful or not, at least the timely rain made our escape a little smoother, and the rain destroyed the footprints we left behind.

I pointed to the front, it was a huge Wuruo tree, I saw an inconspicuous tree hole not too far from the ground, maybe we can take shelter there temporarily.

The boss understood what I meant, and climbed up to the tree in three steps at a time. He looked inside, waved at me, and motioned for me to come over.

I walked over, and he used clothes as a rope to let me climb to the entrance of the cave, which was just barely big enough to accommodate two grown men.

Our clothes have just been taken off and we are now completely naked.

The boss's fiery body was tightly pressed against mine, which reminded me of the unimaginable physical relationship between us, and made me move a little uncomfortably.

And the boss sitting across from me didn't seem to be aware of the embarrassing situation now.

His dark brown eyes looked at the torrential rain outside, and after a while, he retracted his eyes. His face was still a little uncomfortable, but he finally relaxed a little.

Just when I tried to distance myself from him, he stretched out his arms and wrapped me in his arms, "Don't move, it will be warmer." He whispered.

Indeed, the body that was a little cold just now gradually regained some heat.

He rested his chin on my shoulder, and as his warm breath blew past my ears, I heard a sigh, "Seles, you owe me an explanation."

When I heard this sentence, I was in a daze. Boss, it's not good to suddenly bring up this matter at this time, right?We have a lot of pursuers outside, suffering from hunger and cold. We should consider these issues first, instead of chasing me and asking why I have been hiding my physical condition from him.

I took his hand and wrote a sentence in his palm.

I didn't give any explanation, just simply wrote it several times, sorry.

Let you worry, let you down, make you suspicious, these are all because of my selfish thoughts.

I always thought that I could find a place to die quietly, but I forgot to consider your feelings. Maybe I have been such a heartless person from before to now, unlike him, quiet, calm, gentle, Dependable, loyal and consistent.

He shook my hand in turn, "I accept your apology. It's just that there will be no next time."

I nodded.

This is a promise, but I am a little worried that those accidents or inevitable things will always disrupt everything that has been planned.

Just like life, plans can never keep up with changes.

The surrounding area was so quiet that the drowsiness I had been suppressing so hard finally came up uncontrollably. I yawned, moved back, and found a good position to lean against. I could feel the sweet dreams coming to me. I beckoned, so I murmured to the boss, "I—sleep, call—me."

The boss tightened his arms and nodded, I finally couldn't bear it and fell asleep.

When I woke up, it was already dark, and I found that we were no longer in the tree hole.

There are charters walking around here and there.

In the middle are several large piles of blazing bonfires, surrounded by rows of tree houses surrounding a single, large rectangular wooden house covered with rudimentary leaves.

The women are grilling food. With the help of their children, they bake the hunted beasts on a simple trivet made of three sticks tied together. The cooked meat does not use any utensils, just wait When they were a little cooler, they were handed to the men or children around them to let them tear and eat them directly with their hands.

Although there are many people, it is not noisy. The eating process is very orderly. No one preempts and there is no competition. The fat meat is given to the elderly and children first, followed by adult men, and the last to eat is the woman.

They completely ignored us, as if we were just a backdrop for their meal.

The missing Malroth was tied up and thrown across from us. He huddled there, and from time to time a charter came over and spat at him.

But our treatment is slightly better, I asked the boss with my eyes.

The boss shook his head, "Shortly after you fell asleep, we were discovered by the Charts. An old man among them saw the Algiven I wrote on the ground. He decided to listen to our explanation before deciding whether to Offer us up to the gods."

The so-called dedication to the gods is probably a living sacrifice.

I didn't expect that I would sleep so dead, so many things happened, but I didn't feel anything.

Perhaps it was because of my lack of response that the boss followed the Charters to their settlement without any resistance.

The Charters didn't mistreat us, a woman came over and served us a piece of meat wrapped in a leaf, even including a bowl of homemade tapioca wine.

The boss tore up the meat and handed it to me. I have to admit that unless I use a knife, in my current weak state, there is really no way to tear the meat that is not fully cooked.

The meat is very delicious, covered with spices that exude a strong fragrance, more mellow than those valuable spices in San Rocco.

After the meal, I saw those satiated Chartites holding hands and sitting around the fire. In the middle of the three fires, there was a high platform, and an old man with a feather crown on his head climbed up. up, and began a discourse of uncommon passion, driven by a strong sense of vengeance.

"All people, every day, must recall our hatred. Those who forget their hatred must be abandoned by God, our God. Long ago, those Rus people hunted down our ancestors and killed them. Kill them all—"

The old man was telling a piece of history.

Although he spoke very cryptically about this history, based on the information I have learned, I have deduced what has happened and what is happening here.

More than 300 years ago, the magicians who were forced to have nowhere to go fled to the unknown world. Here, they met a barbarian tribe. In the past, the magicians who disdain to communicate with ordinary people had to rely on their remaining magical ability to obtain They became the worship of this tribe, became their prophets, and the object of communication with the gods. Some magicians even became the living gods of certain tribes.

They lurked in this place beyond the reach of the Rus Empire, civilized these barbarian tribes, and even intercourse with the women of these barbarian tribes to give birth to children. They were fully integrated into this place. They established a set of strict living customs, and even evolved into a religion. .

This kind of religion made these tribes hold incomparable hatred for the Ross people—those who hunted and killed their ancestors and prophets—and prepared to kill Ross for generations to avenge their ancestors and prophets.

In order to strengthen the effect of these hate pours, the magicians prepared a herb that can induce hallucinations and strong emotions. Every morning, and before going to bed, the most important thing the fathers did was to make themselves vomit. And confide to their children the hatred they have inherited from their ancestors, while grandmothers and mothers boil herbs into juice and pass them to their husbands and children and grandchildren, so that they can repeatedly experience the intense emotional impact.

Over and over again, year after year, every Chalter is full of anger. Usually, they vent their anger on their enemies and foreign intruders. The merciless torture will scare the courage of these people. .

The magicians pinned their hopes of revenge on this, maybe they knew that the hope was very slim, the Ross Empire seemed invincible at that time, so they, the former strong, could only escape to places beyond the reach of this civilization.

But sooner or later a spark is planted, and sooner or later it will burn the whole field, is a common saying, and magicians believe it.

The Charters are the seeds they left behind. Here, in this place that has not been discovered by the world, magic has not stopped its operation, but has survived in a unique way.

It is also here that the pain and weakness in me can be cured.