The troops departed, and the knightly squires of Avilésburg lined up and galloped on the muddy and rugged dirt roads.

Five horseback militiamen from the village of Nari led the way, and the group was very fast, and it didn't take long for the outline of the village of Nari to come into view on the plains, as well as the makeshift camp illuminated by several bonfires on the grain drying grounds.

The stars emitted a soft glow, mixed with the bright moonlight, and the whole earth was shrouded in tulle.

The march at night was unhindered and troubled.

Plenty of light.

What's more, as the knightly squires of Avilésburg, the daily food quota is all high-quality food, and there is no shortage of fresh meat and various fruits, so they do not have night blindness like the poor.

In the current feudal era, there are many night blindness caused by the lack of vitamins among the poor.

This is especially true in the most barren of the northern counties.

Of course, in comparison, the East County Collar and the South County Collar are much better.

After all, according to what scholars have seen and heard, the richer freemen in these two counties are much happier than the small squires, small landlords, and small merchants in the northern counties, and perhaps the difference is only the size of the power.

It's just that in the current era, no one cares about this, let alone the so-called human rights and life guarantees.

Civilians with an average life expectancy of less than 45 years do not think much about it.

To be able to live is the greatest desire!

Viscount Gibran is 67 years old, and he is also an old man in the Lion Principality, but now he is still the pillar of the Eastern County Lord, plus maintenance and exercise on weekdays, but there is no complete twilight.

This is also considered a long-lived person among the aristocracy, and it can be regarded as a happy old age without serious injuries.

Ride your horse on.

Ahead, blackened buildings line the plain.

It is the village of Nari, which belongs to Avilés Castelo, which is small in size but full of organs, and the occasional light shines through the windows of the houses, adding a touch of popularity to this quiet night.

But the most conspicuous thing is the dozens of tents lit by piles of bonfires on the grain drying ground in front of the village.

It looks like it's a big team stationed.

"Stop moving."

Viscount Gibran tightened the reins at this time, and his right hand holding the whip had been raised to signal.

Behind him, many knight attendants grabbed the reins one after another, controlling the war horses under their crotches to slow down, although there were more than 300 people, but they were all neat and orderly when they stopped, without the slightest panic.

Viscount Gibran also nodded with satisfaction, after all, they were the attendants he had carefully trained.

"Your Excellency."

Bertreum rode closer.

His expression was slightly puzzled, and he was obviously puzzled by the order to stop advancing, so he asked: "There are still a few miles to go from the village of Nari, and we are afraid that it will take about a quarter of an hour to rush over here as quickly as possible." ”

It's still a wilderness, and you have to pass through a cultivated farmland just a few steps from Nari Village.

Viscount Gibran didn't explain much, but said, "Lead the horse." ”

"This..."

Not to mention Bertham, even the other 3 big knights were a little hesitant.

It's not close.

Now wearing a full set of chain mail and chain mail, walking all the way, not to mention the excessive physical exertion of the place, let's just say that such a rugged dirt road, if you reach your feet, it will be troublesome.

Although they have been trained for a long time, they are also mostly fighting skills such as equestrianism, spearmanship, and swordsmanship.

For trekking, you don't have much to dodle in.

The nobles all rode horses.

Only the lowly poor and civilians armed, or the mercenaries who wandered about, would walk, and the commoners, who had a little money, the rich freedmen, would buy pack horses to travel in their place.

"Let's go."

Viscount Gibran did not mean to explain.

Directly turned over and dismounted, led his beloved horse forward, and it turned out that he was really marching on this rugged dirt road, striding towards Nari Village by the light of the stars and moonlight.

Bertram and his 3 senior brothers behind him all turned over and dismounted helplessly and followed on foot.

Including the knightly squires in the rear.

It's all on foot.

There was a sound of footsteps, but it was much quieter than the galloping horses of the hordes.

Especially when it is quiet at night, when they walk forward, not only is their voice quiet, but if they listen carefully, they can detect abnormal sounds around them in advance, and their concealment is greatly improved.

This was what Viscount Gibran meant, and he was curious.

The barbarians he knows something.

But this is the first time he can disguise himself as a mercenary.

If he simply went to raid the battle, then Viscount Gibran was really familiar with the road, but for the long-term stability of the Eastern County Territory and the security of the western border, he decided to investigate first and get the information he wanted.

If that group of barbarians really learned too much knowledge from their contact with the Lion Principality and the Silver Plate Kingdom, that would be the place to worry.

Gibran, as the only viscount of the Eastern Commandery, will definitely not show mercy.

The killing will bloom.

And will also go to the higher moors to the west.

When they unite and begin to learn all kinds of knowledge from their fellow humans in the Lion Principality, these barbarians will no longer be the barbarians they once were, but civilized people who are about to be civilized.

At that time, the eastern county of the Lion Principality, which borders most of the territory, will usher in a new enemy.

It's really dangerous.

Gradually approaching the village of Nari.

Looking at the bonfire in front of them, the group quietly moved forward, and their steps were a little lighter.

The left hand held the reins, and the right hand had already held the hilt of the sword, and pulled out a little, under the light of the stars and moonlight, emitting a faint cold glow, which was very terrifying.

Viscount Gibran, including all the knightly squires, did not actually relax.

I was ready for the worst.

This is their traditional concern.

Once, on the north bank of the Resniston River, when he fought bloodily to defeat the main force of the Silverplate Kingdom, it was only after being full of spirit and preparation that he finally won the battle and achieved success.

The lion fights the rabbit with all his might.

Now they don't have the slightest bit of carelessness.

A generation of famous generals in the Eastern County Territory, the prestige of Viscount Gibran is by no means in vain!

It's just that they were quickly discovered.

Pulling out a small half of the long sword, it shimmered in the moonlight, like a piece of thin glass mirror, and the desert bandits who were keen-eyed and vigilant against the Eastern County Territory noticed the strangeness from a distance.

Although camping in a grain drying field next to the village, vigilance is essential.

There are also a lot of open and dark whistles.

It's all rotational duties.

When someone was the first to notice the abnormal reflection in the distance, they had already reported it.

The sentinels were reduced, and the patrols disappeared into the tents, with only a few seemingly lazy guards, but in fact they were all leaning on obstacles, ready to lie down and dodge long-range attacks such as bows and crossbows.

As for the secret sentinels, they have all shrunk and are hiding inside the outer tent.

Even all sleeping personnel were woken up.

Left glove with a skin round shield.

The right hand is a spear or a heavy scimitar.

All of them huddled slightly in the tent, but they could kick their legs out of the tent at any moment, and launch a brazen counter-charge, so that any enemy who dared to sneak up on them in the night would be subjected to an unexpected counterattack.

Even Kant, in the middle of the makeshift camp, had woken up, wearing chain mail and a linen robe.

A group of lion knights and lion squires also guarded the area.

There is no problem with security.

With 30 Lion Knights of Saarion, there are not enough big knights in the Duchy of Lion.

Large-scale legion warfare may be a little worse, they have to dodge the deadly rain of arrows, but small-scale military conflicts are the best place for them to play.

For example, now.

Although the Desert Bandit Elite is ready.

But these level 6 knights and level 5 lion squires were equally prepared.

With just 80 of them, they are enough to escort Kant to kill him, and they can also take advantage of the night to slaughter all the more than 300 riders who are quietly attacking, and they will definitely not have too many casualties.

Kant, however, was more cautious, and commanded in a deep voice: "Go down with orders, be vigilant, and listen to orders." ”

"Yes!"

The chainmail-clad Squire of the Sarion Lion nodded immediately.

At this time, they were the heralds, leaving the tent lightly, walking briskly in the darkness where the campfire could not be illuminated, and at the same time conveying Kant's orders, so that everyone received the order to make arrangements.

The commander of the front row at this time was naturally Rolf.

He was in the tent at the front.

Through the gap, looking at the cold light that flashed outside from time to time, his eyes were also cold.

Especially looking at the village next to him, he couldn't help but snort coldly: "It seems that this Nari Village is not an honest village, it is still a nest of vicious bandits." ”

Spending the night in the village is the way to go.

But at night in the village, there were strange troops approaching.

Not only did he draw his weapon, but he quietly touched it, and if it wasn't a robber, then he wasn't a good person.

Rolf was not a good general, he was once a notorious villain aristocrat on the continent of Calradia, specializing in solving problems for certain forces, such as bribing informants in villages and intercepting them in the middle of the night.

Money is moving, not to mention the poor peasants in these villages.

"Get ready for Lao Tzu."

Rolf smirked.

Turning his head to look at the group of bandit elites next to him, he scolded in a deep voice: "Lord Kant said that naturally those guys won't sneak attack, so we don't need to attack, but those guys are obviously charging, so give me a round of greetings with your short javelin first!" ”

"Understood!" The elite of the desert bandits replied in a low voice.

And just talking.

The spears and scimitars in their hands were replaced with short javelins.

PS: Recommend a friend's "Legendary Psychic Warlock", DND stream. Mages are incomparably materialistic beings, and they always want to interpret the world with an absolutely correct set of formulas. But they also have to admit that there are some things that they can't interpret – like the sparkling light that lurks in the deepest part of everyone's heart.

PS: This book is really good, you can really check it out.