Characters in this chapter: (Jamila), (Ellenn), (Porcha), (Resarit).

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Chapter 025: (On the March)

Since leaving [Chanda], Victor has led his team of mercenaries all the way west, shuttling through the mountains, dense forests and sheep intestine paths, and finally stepping out of the territory of the free city of [Chanda] after crossing a steep checkpoint pass.

During this time, they encountered a group of green forest bandits and a gang of bandits, but they were easily dismissed. Later, in one of the villages where they were camping, a group of bandits came to raid at night, and in desperation, Victor led his mercenaries to help the villagers drive away the bandits.

The next few days were all safe and sound, perhaps because of the scale of this mercenary group, no more open-eyed bandits and robbers dared to make trouble. The road became wider and wider, and the sparse farmsteads and cottages began to be seen on the roadside again.

On the way, they passed through the territory of Fort Tihrog and several villages of various sizes, and after stepping into the plains, the team marched faster and faster, and they only had to pass through the 'Kosovo Forest' in front of them to reach the bustling seaport town of [Fenrad].

Victor plans to lead the team to the harbor town of [Fenrad] located in the upper reaches of the 'Pollack River', and then hire a cargo ship at the dock to go to the harbor city of [Aaron] in the Principality of Rhodoc by sea. This way they can avoid entering the territory of the Swadia kingdom.

As the procession marched along the wide pathway, the light above them dimmed any longer, as if someone had painted a layer of black on the canopy with ink, and the ink must have been smeared too much, as if drops of ink were about to fall from the canopy.

It was too dark to continue on the road, so the mercenaries had to set up camp at the entrance to the Kosovo Forest. In the night, the trees stood like some hideous giants, stacked into a dense pile of black shadows, and the gaps in the leaves were like thousands of pairs of small eyes, mysteriously peeking around.

"Raise your hands a little higher and turn your center of gravity to the left. "Resarit is teaching two of the most unqualified members of the team around the campfire. One of them was the daughter of a wealthy merchant, and the other claimed to be the best stalker, the most skilled horse thief.

Every night, Porcha the 'Horse Thief' and Jamila 'the Beautiful Princess' learn the art of fighting with Resarit. But the outgoing and cheerful Jamila would prefer the easy-going 'noble young master' Alleyne to teach her these fighting skills rather than the overly stern Ressarit.

Compared to the pampered 'beautiful princess', the sleek and sophisticated 'horse thief' has improved a lot. Under the ** of the 'Iron Sect Head', Porcha's combat skills have obviously improved a lot, and he already knows some parry and dual-wielding skills, so there will be such a big improvement.

'Iron Leader' is a nickname given by the mercenaries to their instructor and treasurer, Resarit. Almost every member of this mercenary team has one, if not two, nicknames. These nicknames are derived from the mercenaries' personality, identity, profession, or other characteristics.

For example, Victor the 'Old Man', 'Noble Young Master' Alley, 'Beautiful Princess' Jamila, 'Horse Thief' Porcha, 'Big Man' Hank, 'Little Man' Roman, 'Cold-Blooded Killer' Cress, 'Queen of Plunder' Mathilde, and a number of other messy nicknames.

"Jamila," Resarit reprimanded harshly, "watch your center of gravity, and remember to keep the bowstring as close to your cheek as possible. ”

"Instructor, this thing doesn't suit me at all. Jamila retorted unconvinced, "You should have given me a sharp sword, or a dagger, not a broken bow." ”

"The sword is the weapon of choice for the warriors, and the dagger is the weapon of murder in the hands of the assassins," the gray pupils of the Iron Sect were stern and merciless. "You can't be a warrior, let alone an assassin, so the bow is your only option. ”

"I don't practice anymore, so I don't want to hold a broken bow. Jamila childishly threw away her longbow and headed for her tent.

Ressarit departed angrily to the other side of the crowd's gaze, leaving Porcha alone standing under the campfire with a spear. Standing not far away, Alleyne witnessed this, and he also knew that the young instructor was doing this to protect Jamila.

"Jamila," said Ellene, who hurried after him, "you should follow Resarit's teachings, and he is doing so for your own good." ”

"For my good?" said Jamila, as she walked toward the tent, "don't you see his condescending face, and what he said, what do you mean that I am worthy of a broken bow?"

"He's always been so strict when it comes to training soldiers," Alleyne patiently explained, "and know that most soldiers would rather hide behind and attack the enemy with a bow and arrow, given a choice, than charge into battle and fight the enemy desperately." ”

Jamila said without showing weakness, "I want to be thought of as a coward." ”

Alleyne asked a little harshly, "Then you want to be a dead man?"

In the face of Aryne's questioning, Jamila was speechless, of course she didn't want to die. But the beautiful princess never thought that if she took the sword and went into battle with the mercenaries to kill the enemy, would she really be able to survive from the enemy's sword?

Seeing that the other party was silent, Alleyne continued, "Bows and arrows can also play an excellent role, in the battlefield, archers are an indispensable class, accurate archers can not only cover the retreat of their companions, but also save the lives of their companions at critical moments. ”

"I'll try to be a good archer," Jamila said more softly, recognizing the situation, "Thank you, Aren." With that, she turned and slipped into the tent in front of her.

·

Fireflies flickered in the treetops, flickering and disappearing, like sparkling sapphires hidden in the leaves, embellishing the night into extraordinarily magnificent and magical.

In the evenings, when everyone gathers around the campfire to eat, the mercenaries like to listen to Aunt Mathilde, the 'Queen of Plunder', tell the old stories of the northern ice continent, but Ellen is curious about the story of Porcha's horse stealing.

"Mo Mo tea," Alleyne asked, sitting on the side, "Why do you always like to steal horses?" Mo Mo Tea is another name for Polcha, and as for what a horse thief is, you have to ask 'translator' or 'official'.

"Horses are the most docile animals, and they are the easiest and most valuable things to take away on this war-torn continent." ”

"Then why do you have to steal it?" asked Alleyne again, "why don't you just be a horse dealer?"

Porcha was silent for a moment, then muttered, "I aspire to be a decent businessman, but I was born a thief." I don't have the capital!" He shook his head resolutely, "If there is another way to make a living, I am not willing to steal it!"

"Maybe that's what fate has planned. Except for this sentence, Alleyne didn't know what to say. The world is so unfair, you can't choose your own origin, but you can choose your own path.

After a moment of silence, Porcha continued, "I didn't eat a meal for a week, and on the eighth night, I stole money from a family for treatment, and at dawn, the mother watched her baby die in her arms, but I couldn't help it..." And I'd rather live myself, even if it's like an ant!"

Alleyne was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly. The old man once said something like that. When a person dies, everything is over. ”

Polcha raised his head, his gaze drifting to the 'old man' Victor, "I know that people are different, just like people like the regiment leader, people like you, and people like me. This is the case in the world, but I hate and loathe myself, and I hate the way others look at me, so I bring them hatred and disgust!" He clenched his fists, "If it weren't for the regimental leader, a person like me would be destined to live in the sewers for the rest of his life!

Alleyne nodded and replied with a serious face, "The old man is indeed different, he always does his best to help everyone he meets. Especially the people around you. ”

"On the day I was caught by the guards, I was going to take out the hidden dagger and fight the walnut-faced old man to the death, but the boss grabbed my hand. He told the guards that he was willing to be my guarantor, and that he would compensate for buying the old man's horse at a high price. Porcha's voice was full of joy, "He gave me a second chance to be a human being! He gave me hope for life again! From that day on, I swore that what he wanted was what I wanted! Even if it would make me steal it! I would do everything in my power to help the old man fulfill his request!"

Alleyne nodded heavily again, there is something in the old man that we will never understand, but Ellen knows that what he wants is also what he wants, but what he wants is not what he wants?

"The old man is a very peculiar man, he never mentions his past to us, and although he has always been kind to the group, he always keeps a certain distance from the group. "Even I am no exception, even though in the eyes of the soldiers I am a close confidant of his." ”

Polcha took a deep breath and asked with a calm face, "I heard from the brothers that the regimental commander once participated in the battle of the Iva Chaze with your father? ”

"Yes!" Alleyne admitted, nodding his head undeniably. "My father is now the lord of Vizan and serves under Lord Varisian. ”

Polcha was even more confused, and asked in confusion, "Then why did you choose to be a mercenary? ”

Alleyne smiled helplessly and unwillingly. "I am my father's eldest son and his successor. But my mother died of illness when I was 10 years old, and my father remarried. "My father's wife thought that her son should have the right to inherit and that she could not act against me in public, but one day I fed a can of oil to my hound, and it died. I sued my stepmother, but my father, who was so smitten by her, refused to believe me and ordered me to leave his sight. ”

"That damn woman," Porcha cried indignantly, "she deserves three levels of hell." ”

"What are the three layers?" Aren didn't get angry like Porcha, but asked curiously, "Isn't there eighteen layers in hell?"

"Because the third layer is those who instigate discord between father and son, brother, sister, and husband, and wife, and go to the Iron Tree Hell after death. Porcha explained to him, "There are sharp blades in the trees, which are pulled under the skin of the backs of the people and hung from the iron trees. After that, I will go to the hell of the mirror of evil......"

"It's cruel," Alleyne interrupted, "my stepmother hasn't done anything terrible, and we shouldn't have cursed her like that." ”

"Okay, okay! Let's not talk about her. Polcha digressed and asked, "What happened then? Where did you go after you were kicked out?"

"I've worked for some lords since I left my father's domain," said Ellen with a dry laugh and a bitter grin, "but I've found that they often just let me do things that don't suit my gentlemanly status, such as delivering letters, training farmers, and so on. I'm a man of status, and I'd rather fight with a sword and a lance. ”

"Yes, you look like a knight. ”

"I wish I could serve an officer worthy of service, for this is the only honorable profession worthy of my origins in my domain. Alleyne didn't seem to hear what he said, but still said to himself, "But in the meantime I have seen it sinful to mingle with thieves, vagabonds, peddlers, and other messy people on the road." ”

"Oh, my knight," quipped Porcha, "you are sitting next to a thief, and you should confess your sins to God?"

"I confess that you are a man of lower birth than I am," commented Ellene, "and it is nothing to me to serve under an experienced officer. ”

Polcha was a little surprised, and then said sourly, "I'm not an officer, I'm just a horse thief." ”

"But you're a great tracker, and if I want to learn this from you, I don't think that's going to be a problem?"

"Of course," Porcha smiled slyly, "you don't have a close relationship with me, but you're a good companion. ”

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