112 Return home

The sun was shining, and a group of knights on the official road were moving forward at a swaying medium speed with a carriage.

"Black Bull, how far is it from your home?" A knight approached the carriage and asked loudly.

"We'll be there in two days." A dull voice in the carriage replied.

After a simple question and answer, the horse team continued to rush south.

The knights carried swords and swords, and their blue and black clothes and trousers were stained with a lot of dust because of the long journey, but the badge on their chests flashed with silver. They are all members of the Flame Fighter Mercenary Regiment, a silver badge second-class mercenary regiment belonging to the Hasting Army.

Mercenaries are professional warriors who work for their employers for profit. Sometimes they become protectors of caravans, sometimes bandits who gather in the mountains and forests, sometimes they become armed guards around nobles, and sometimes speculatory treasure hunters everywhere.

As long as someone pays, the mercenaries will pay the corresponding force for the right price, but some mercenaries determine their roles for ideals or personal preferences.

The Flame Fighter Regiment is exactly such a mercenary regiment that even the commander of the Hasting Army has a headache.

The most unlucky of this platoon combat force of more than 20 people was the militant platoon leader known as Hell's Three-headed Dog, who fell from a mercenary regiment doing escort and escort tasks to a professional mercenary gladiator on the arena.

Under the overall situation of hundreds of years of stability, people have been drilling around all kinds of stimulating industries to consume the excess energy and money. Casinos, gambling boats and even casinos, such as places to vent the original sin of human beings soon occupied every corner of the mainland.

Tired of slaughtering animals, ** beautiful women, tired of piles of gold coin exchange, many people turn their eyes to the most primitive arena. The fight between man and man and beast can always stimulate the most primitive barbaric gene in human hearts.

Looking at the blood, listening to the angry roar and painful moans, they saw their strong bodies being dragged out like garbage. All the participants in the arena became hysterical and crazy. They pulled off the masks of gentlemen and ladies and shouted crazily with the most real and primitive pure faces. , the fighters who bet on themselves shouted.

The huge ** of gambling in the arena ranges from dozens of silver coins to hundreds of thousands of gold coins, causing many warriors and mercenaries to enter this cage for high bonuses and become fighting dogs for everyone to watch. There are also some psychologically distorted warriors who stand on this flesh and blood battlefield to release their desire to kill in order to seek the stimulation of killing.

No one remembers the original name of the Flame Fighter Mercenary Regiment, and even its leader himself simply forgot it because he was too addicted to killing. At the beginning, this unit was brought out of the Hasting's military headquarters to develop a cruise combat force in a normal way. The hell three-headed dog Belos was also an excellent platoon leader, but an unknown small mercenary regiment wanted to develop and did not know how much to suffer.

As a killing warrior trained by the army, Berlos almost exhausted his energy in boring escorts and endless bargaining between merchants.

Fortunately, God didn't want this man with the reputation of a defeated aristocracy to sink. A businessman inadvertently introduced him into the arena, so a detained vicious dog was finally able to show his bloody fangs.

Bailos first became a hired gladiator himself, and then he took his team into the arena and became a mercenary regiment stationed in the arena.

The name of the flame fighter was changed at this time, and Berlos also won the notoriety of the hell three-headed dog because of his fierce and aggressiveness.

The military department is very dissatisfied with his addiction to killing, but Belos' theory that "the battlefield is the stage for real warriors, and combat is the fastest way to improve". In addition, the personal ability of the Flame Fighter Mercenary Regiment has indeed improved very quickly, blocking many of the above dissatisfactions, and the military department also hopes to protect He has the strong combat effectiveness of soldiers, so he acquiesced in his practice.

The only headache for the military department is that the reduction speed of this flame fighter mercenary regiment is too fast. On average, they have to add new people, and they are either ashes or disabled. As long as the soldiers are still intact, they are left by Berlos on the arena and fight all day long.

Seeing the shadow of the town from afar, the group of people not only did not accelerate, but slowed down a little. The people in the carriage felt that the speed was slowing down and struggled to sit up and rolled up the curtains that had been blocking the dust, revealing a pale thin face. One of his feet disappeared, and the wound was still bandaged. Obviously, the injury did not last long.

"Black Bull, you will be home soon. Are you in a hurry?" The knights, who had been silent, began to chat.

The wounded man called Black Bull smiled bitterly. He gently touched his broken leg and said helplessly, "I have always been riding a horse. I didn't expect to take a broken car home in the end..."

"You're not bad. The big tigers and two tigers are sent back with jars. You didn't see their crying." A knight took a few steps in the horse's belly, reached out to get the water bag from the carriage, took a sip, and threw the water bag to the knight behind him.

"I'm useless now, and I can only wait to die when I go home. The three-legged cow can't even pull the pear."

"Fuck! Three-legged people are also cows, and they can also ride cows and give birth to calves!" The words of a bearded knight made everyone laugh, and even the depressed black cow was laughed by the bearded words.

"Yes, your black cow's legs are broken, and you are still a good man when you go to bed. Go back and work hard and give birth to a few calves early, hahahaha" The laughter of the knights suddenly drove away the fatigue on the road, but they still did not speed up, as if they were going to linger on the road.

After everyone laughed for a while, an elderly bearded knight said with a straight face, "Well, the joke is here. The monster is waiting in front of you. When you see him, you all talk to me carefully. If you annoy him, no one can stop his thin sword..."

When it comes to monsters, several knights immediately suffer. This great god is the master who can't be cured in the arena. This time, he will come out with them when he is not in the regiment. For several knights who go out, it is really a kind of torture.

No matter how slow the horse team moved forward, it was always getting closer and closer to the town. When they saw the gate, several knights spit fiercely and then rushed over desperately.

The town is not big, with only one inn. It is located in a remote area in the southeast of Hasting. Because it is far away from the main road, few caravans come to visit. But the only inn has become lively these days.

Two days ago, a strange warrior stayed in the inn. When the waiter took the warrior upstairs, he said, "Sir, please." His thigh was stabbed with a transparent hole by a thin sword!

After the other waiter brought the food to the room, he cleverly said, "Miss, please take your time." As a result, he was also lifted down and a transparent hole in his thigh.

Fortunately, this samurai has excellent swordsmanship. He neither cut the artery on his leg nor touches the main muscles and bones. After being seen by the doctor, the two unlucky waiters need to rest for a few days until the wound grows.

Now all the waiters were unwilling to serve the strange warrior upstairs. In the end, the slippery boss did it in person. He did not say a word. The cunning boss completed the service required by the warrior with "yes" and "good".

Under the boss's instructions, the waiter did not dare to be cold or enthusiastic about the strange warrior, and could only silently pray to the gentleman or lady to leave their inn as soon as possible.

After two days of being so worried, several warriors also arrived at the inn with a carriage.

Several warriors drove the carriage to the backyard and helped the black cow into the inn. Several guys threw the black cow into a chair on the side of the table and left him alone. They immediately ordered wine and vegetables. Several people quickly ate and drank around a table. Even the injured black cow stuffed something into his stomach, as if he had not eaten enough all the way. It seems.

"You are so slow~~" A feminine voice of an indistinguishable man and woman was entangled from upstairs to pass down, and the ending of the gaze made several warriors almost spit out everything stuffed into their mouths.