87_87643.

There were only four men left in the empty hall inside the colony, Forty-Seven, Josson, Miria, and an elf.

"Why do you want to take on this kind of thing, our purpose ......" Milia looked at the elf who was sitting at the table and didn't say anything: "What's more, why did this guy stay too, it's outrageous!"

"Frey commissioned me before he left last night, but I was just curious. "The captain of the hunt has almost personally admitted that the war between the Argus Empire and the Night Elves is not a rumor, and now it will be troublesome if he goes straight to Argus and breaks into the battlefield of Argus and the Sleeping Forest: "And I won't go with you......"

The elf stood up, retreated from the lilac robe, the pale golden shoulder armor and leggings shone brightly, the sterling silver arm armor connected to the brown wrist showed that he was very capable, a wisteria longbow on his back was almost as tall as him, each arrow in the arrow pocket was extremely delicately made, and there was no slight difference between any two arrows, the two short swords on the waist, one long and one short, were well-made sharp weapons just by looking at the scabbard, a long golden hair hung down, and the two small braids braided on one side looked a little playful and cute, but the beautiful woman's face was always expressionless, and the two eyes emitted a faint white light, and even leave a trail of light that does not last long when moving in slightly darker places.

"You can't go it alone, I must follow you, help, and watch over you!" said the elf called Custer.

Forty-seven didn't say anything, he was staring at the other party's two pointed ears, the night elf in front of him reminded him of the half-elf Custer who had half of his head cut off in Rain City, and so on, their names turned out to be the same, could they be relatives.

"Let him go, we can complete the task independently!" Jossen turned to Miriah and said, "Your trial journey needs these trainings, a god-favored knight don't just whine, go and prepare your outfit!"

Forty-Seven didn't bother to go on any glorious and great mission with the holy warriors or anything else, he didn't want to be in the company of such rigid people at all, which reminded him of the cult group he had been ordered to exterminate a long, long time ago, they released poison gas in public, caused explosions, harmed innocent people, and kept saying that it was to eliminate the evils in society, purify the living environment of mankind, or to sublimate the level of the cultists, no matter what the excuse was, it was some nonsense.

Holy Knight of the Morning Light, God's fool, where is your God?

Compared to Forty-Seven, he cared more about the ashes he had seen earlier, the touch was subtle, but he couldn't tell what it was.

Forty-seven stood up from the roof where he was, the sun showing its heat fiercely, as if it would not be possible to be in awe of the people, but it seemed to be so.

"Hey, whatever you are, come down, it's time for us to go!"

Forty-seven stood on the roof and leaned forward, thinking about killing the guys below, when he suddenly caught a glimpse of Milia coming out from under the eaves, glaring at his divine knight with extreme disgust, which made him very disdainful and disgusting.

He stretched out his curled body like a high jumper, the beams of the roof were broken by him, and when he reached the highest point, the steel wings hulala spread at the greatest angle, and Forty-Seven hovered in the air, he actually liked to fly, since he was still using jet-backed lock propulsion.

The continent looks better in the morning than it actually is, and the green vegetation shows remarkable vitality, although it looks like nothing more than speckled yellow-green patches.

The little black dots below weren't even worth being killed, and Forty-Seven put aside his irritable thoughts and began to search the place that Frey had spoken of last night.

"To the south of this stronghold is the Sleeping Forest, which is the home of the Night Elves, and the people who attack the stronghold will definitely not be stupid enough to throw themselves into the net, to the east is the Supreme Mountain Range, and no one can climb up except the Snow Elves, and to the northeast is the noisy desert that we have walked over, and to the southwest is the Golden Trade Road, and those thieves will not take this road after they succeed, so I think they must have gone back to their old nest, the Cold Wasteland!" Last night, when Frey was talking to Forty-Seven and Josson, he poked his finger hard at a large light green area north of the stronghold on the map, as if he wanted to break his finger.

"Nest?" asked Forty-Seven, who seemed to be convinced of that.

"That's right, almost all of the bands of thieves who have their eye on the Gold Traders are based in the Cold Wasteland. Frey rubbed his fingers and continued: "But the previous thieves have never had the strength to attack the stronghold, and I don't know how to do it this time." ”

"Why are you sure it was the thieves who did it?" Josson still habitually held his chin with his hand and stood on the other side of the table, "Also, why didn't he go with you to the Sleeping Forest, he would only make things troublesome if he followed us." ”

Forty-seven sneered and was noncommittal.

"My Holy Warrior Master......" Frey looked like he was about to kneel, "Won't he be in trouble if he follows those haughty Night Elves, in comparison, let the trouble follow you." ”

"Obviously you don't have a clue either, and not only that, but you must always be on the lookout for blades coming from behind, unless you want me to kneel down and thank you for your generosity. "The dust raised under the feet of the so-called godly knight will not be fragrant by her name.

Forty-seven of course refers to Milia, and if the sword that slashed at the waist had the slightest divine power or killing intent attached to it, there would probably not be such a discussion as it is now.

Qiao Sen groaned for a moment: "Although I don't really want to do this, I still have to apologize to you......"

It's okay to cut someone and say sorry, the knight is really good at being a man.

No wonder, there are no police in this world.

Forty-seven landed in a circle, he shook his wings a few times mechanically, although reluctantly, it was already the limit to fly such a long distance, and the rest of the distance had to be on foot.

Forty-Seven took out a small cloth bag from the inner pocket of his cloak and slowly opened it, and inside was some gray-white ash, as if it were the ashes of some kind of creature, or some very inconspicuous remains left behind after something burned, but Forty-Seven specially collected it in the stronghold and brought it with him. Forty-Seven picked up a handful with his hand, his thumb and forefinger slowly twisted, and the ash was rekindled by the heat generated by the friction between the two fingers, emitting the last remaining bit of energy before turning into a finer gray dust, falling from between his fingers, and immediately blown away by the unobstructed wind of the wasteland.

A, a familiar taste.

Forty-seven wrapped the cloth bag and stuffed it back in. He couldn't recall where this feeling of déjà vu came from, and he shouldn't have remembered it by his memory, whether it was the transistor memory before, or the brain that God knows what material it was made of.

Forty-seven had to give up on what he cared about for the most for a while, intending to start tracking the band's trails, well, if there were any clues to follow.

The endless wasteland was a kind of semi-Gobi plain, where most of the area was flat, with the occasional gently sloping hills, bare rocky mountains, and lumpy bushes separated by considerable distances from each other, and in this desolate land, anything that moved would quickly attract attention, and Forty-Seven looked around and found no direction worth heading in, except for the lonely stronghold of the Chamber of Commerce behind him.

Forty-seven flipped over his hood and headed straight into the depths of the wasteland.

The twin suns had completely set out on the horizon, but the afterglow still stained the end of the sky a bright red, as if a war was going on there that was no less bloody than hell. Custer was half-crouched on the ground, his palm touching a withered wasteland plant, his half-closed eyes seemed to be in a state of unknown, his lips twitching, but he couldn't hear any of his sounds.

Josson, Miria and Caster the Night Elf had been walking in the cold wasteland for three days, and during the day Custer wrapped himself tightly in his purple robes, and followed Jossen and Miria without saying a word, and at night, Caster tore off his robes, revealing his true colors, and became active and talkative.

Of course, this kind talk is only relative to the other proud Night Elves.

However, the two paladins were also able to track the Night Elves: on the first night, Custer found traces of camping in the open and measured the traces to determine the number of opponents, the next night Custer found a puddle of camel dung that was not fresh but had not yet been decomposed, and Guò's sniffing of the dung confirmed the distance between the other party and himself, and on the third night, Custer found the withered plant and seemed to have begun a conversation with the plant. Although Custer's appearance is getting weirder and weirder overall, Jossen and Milia feel that they are finally some more credible clues.

Custer opened his eyes, as if he had thrown two white gems into the night.

"There are 60 to 70 people on the other side, and we are at most five days away from the trip, and the direction is due north, and the direction is west......"

"We already know this, so you told it just now...... It sues you ...... What else is going on?" Milia didn't know how to describe the relationship between Custer and the plant, and became a little incoherent, but she at least spoke without Forty-Seven beside her.

"I don't know......" Custer stood up, his eyes looking into the depths of the dark wasteland, "but I think, probably that's why they were able to take the stronghold......"

Sixty to seventy men were also mixed in with prisoners, and such a number captured the stronghold almost instantly.

Jossen and Milia glanced at each other, as if they had a slight sense of the severity of the problem.

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