The heat of summer in Sicily seems to encourage the craze of people who are eager to make a fortune.

Since the messenger left the stone house with his father's order, Roger has seen more and more black spots gather on the open space outside Messina during his daily routine inspection.

The weeds that were grilled by the scorching sun were covered with messy tents, and the noise of horses and people roaring could reach Roger even through the city walls.

There are more and more banquets in the stone house, and the scale is getting bigger and bigger, from roasted chicken, roasted duck, roasted fish, roasted goats, to roasted suckling pigs, roasted goats, and finally the whole calf is set up to roast.

The participants in the banquet, whether they were lords with titles or vassals, were all tall and strong, with fierce looks. Roger felt that his family was about to become a bandit's nest.

My father always pulled him and his brother Simon out to meet guests.

Roger saw that his brother Simon was not used to such changes. After all, as far as he knew, this brother, who was two years older than him, had always had a bad body and stayed in the room every day and didn't come out.

Moreover, these fighters obviously have no experience in making fun of children. They self-righteously use some methods they think are very interesting to express closeness.

For example, throw Roger and Simon into the air to catch them, or open their mouths and spray poison gas, and roar and rush to Roger and Simon in front of them like a black bear to scare them.

Simon was always scared and hugged in the maid's arms and cried loudly, while those successful bastards laughed and showed off their power.

But Roger doesn't hang on these rude bastards, and he won't be scared to tears at this level. He thought, he would have the courage to fight Boschmond alone and compete with him who has the best Latin writing.

But these gangsters seemed to be addicted to playing. They let Simon go and took turns to scare Roger. Roger annoyed these guys and decided to give them some colors.

A rash man rushed over again. Roger, who was prepared for a long time, shot his left and right, and slapped him twice. The sound was crisp and quiet.

The man was stunned for a moment, and seemed to have never expected to be slapped in the face by a baby.

Roger saw his stinky face that was so close to him became more ferocious, and his eyes were filled with murderous aura.

"Ao"

The reckless man opened his mouth and roared, which made Roger deaf ears. The stinky tone made Roger nausea. Roger could even clearly see every rotten teeth of his.

Roger saw the crowd in the hall, but no one came to rescue him. He felt the maid holding him from behind trembling.

A lonely figure suddenly appeared in Roger's heart and recklessly charged towards the windmill.

Tolerate, unbearable pain.

"Yaah!" Roger shouted in a loud voice, spitting out almost all the air in his lungs.

Challenge, an invincible opponent.

He kicked his feet on the other party's chin, and Roger felt the pain in the soles of his feet for glory.

He held back his tears and glared at his opponent, but was surprised to see the other party's head leaning back at an exaggerated angle and slowly falling to the ground.

Ah, am I actually the reincarnation of Hercules?

Roger thought, but found that everyone in the hall was laughing, and his opponent also got up from the ground without any injuries, laughing like a clown.

The clown took Roger and raised him high, shouting: "Fearless, Roger!"

So everyone started to cheer: "Roger, Roger..."

The hall was filled with chaos and the atmosphere reached its climax instantly.

Simon, who was crying, was taken back to the room by the maid, but Roger was left to sit on his father's lap to attend the banquet.

Another person who was accused of making fun of him, so everyone raised their glasses to Roger Big and Big: "Respect the fearless ones!"

Dad raised his glass to respond. Just as Dad was drinking hard, Roger suddenly became playful. He suddenly came to the Heavenly King Tota, and pushed his little hand to the bottom of the cup.

My father drank the wine into his nose, choking and coughing. The wine was poured out and Roger was begging for trouble.

Roger wiped his little hand, looked at the amber wine, and put it into his mouth by chance.

The sweetness of honey is so sweet that he will not wake up from his current situation.

When Roger woke up, he felt very hungry. He thought, how many meals I missed.

After solving the problem of food and clothing, he learned from the maid's chat that he had been drunk all day.

He couldn't help but be amazed. He thought, it would be too dangerous to not play like this in the future.

He also directed the maids to conduct routine inspections.

When he passed Simon's room, he found that he could smell a scent of medicine from a distance.

He put his ears into the room and heard his mother's voice: "Why is it still not possible?"

The palace doctor replied in his voice: "Madam, the eldest young master has a fever and a nightmare every night. It is obvious that evil demons are invading in my body. I have tried all the medicines. Now, there is only one last way, bloodletting."

This quack doctor, Roger was shocked. He actually wanted to bleed a two-and-a-half-year-old doll.

"I'll go to the church to pray, I'll leave it to you here." Roger saw his mother covering her mouth and walked out with a sad face.

Through the opened door, he saw the doctor taking out the twisting leech and couldn't help but feel chills.

He urged the maid to leave quickly, and he was so disgusting that he wanted to vomit. If I was sick, he thought that he would never let the quack doctor treat him.

Roger, who escaped from the stone house, instructed the maid to stroll around the yard. He saw many knights and servants gather together in groups of three or three.

Several nearby knights were chatting: "The poor crusaders were annihilated, in Nicea, by the Iron Cavalry of the Seljuk Turks, hey, see who this is?"

They saw Roger and greeted him happily: "Good morning, Roger, the alcoholic."

Roger was stunned when he heard this.

What? What about the fearless one? How could such a cool nickname become a alcoholic?

He was extremely upset and ignored these joking knights.

At this time, a reflection swept across his face, attracting his attention.

He turned his head and saw a white-haired knight pulling out his sword in a nearby corner.

The sword is about 1 meter long, of which about 10 cm is the handle, the handle is about 5 cm wide, and a thicker circular shaped shank hammer below the hilt. The horizontal barrier at the front of the hilt is cross-shaped with the sword body and the hilt. The hilt of the sword body is about 8 cm wide, and gradually narrows to the top, and finally forms a sharp sword tip.

The whole sword was slender and thin, reflecting a dazzling light in the sun. A shallow blood groove in the center of the sword body made Roger, who was fascinated by the sight, realize that this was not a decoration, but a killing weapon.

The white-haired knight explained to a 15-6-year-old young servant in front of him: "When you hold the sword, hold the right hand on the hilt near the handguard, and the left hand can hold the back of the hilt, or you can directly grasp the hilt, but remember not to hold it to death. Let the hilt rotate freely during the slashing, so that the hilt will be more powerful. If you hold the hilt and do not put it, the power and fluency of the slashing will be affected..."

"Hahaha, it's really a few eggs," a strong knight looked at the white-haired knight and his servants provocatively. "Boy, don't listen to this old immortal nonsense. The woodcutter knows that the tighter the grip, the heavier the chopping."

"So your swordsman learnt from the woodcutter who chopped wood?" The white-haired knight said sarcastically without showing any weakness.

When Roger saw the conflict, he became excited. He signaled the maid to get closer. Someone around him leaned over and formed a loose circle to surround the two knights.

"Marriage competition!" Someone who is accused of making a fuss.

So the strong knight drew a sword from his thin wooden scabbard of silk in the outer silk. The sword body was wider, and the distance between the two blades was consistent from top to bottom. The sword body was smooth, and it was obvious that it was conducive to chopping.

Everyone retreated slightly and gave up the space, and the two knights stood face to face.

Roger noticed that the young man had his left foot in front and his right foot in back, holding the hilt of the sword tightly against his right cheek, pointing directly above his head slightly back, his muscles were tight, like a tiger down the mountain, staring at his opponent's eyes with fierce eyes.

The old man's feet were shoulder-width apart, then he took a step forward with his right foot pointing forward, and his left foot rotated forty-five degrees outward, and his feet were in T-shaped to maintain balance. At the same time, his knees were slightly bent, his upper body was upright, and his body was relaxed.

The old man placed the hilt of the sword below the waist on the left, with his sword body facing upwards, and pointed his sword tip directly to his opponent's face. His eyes looked at the opponent's shoulders, as quiet as a virgin.

"Ha", the young man shouted loudly, took a step forward with his right foot and approached his opponent, and slashed down with both hands. The force was heavy and the force was heavy and he wanted to slash the opponent into two.

Roger gave him a thumbs up in his heart: A great move to "strike Huashan" with force.

At the same time, the old man moved. He stepped forward with his left foot, held the hilt of the sword tightly with his right hand, held the hilt with his left hand, and lifted the sword upwards with both hands, stabbed the sword diagonally, and let the two swords intersect at the hilt of the sword body with a "clang".

Roger thought, what can't be done, it can't be stopped.

As expected, as he expected, he was very strong in his prime, and he pressed the old man's sword off. The tip of the sword turned obliquely to the lower left, and the sword body was pressed against the outside of the left shoulder.

Roger noticed that the old man's hands had been raised above his head. He turned his right wrist and still held it tightly. His left hand left away from the raised shank, flipped his thumb, and held it at the back of the hilt of the sword.

The sword in the prime of life could not hold back the momentum, just like a wheel rubbing against the rails, the sword under the old man was guided to slide to the ground, pulling out a row of sparks.

In his prime, he was like a woodcutter chopping wood, or like a farmer hoeing the ground, and he smashed a hole in the ground with one sword.

The old man twisted his waist and drew half a circle forward with his right foot. In the blink of an eye, he was already facing his prime.

He turned his hands and drew the iron sword round and put it firmly on the shoulders of the prime minister.

So he abandoned his sword and gave up his defeat in his prime.

Everyone cheered and cheered.

The young attendant ran forward excitedly and picked up the sword, and handed it to the old man as a seizure. However, the old man refused to accept it and signaled to return it to the middle age.

The young knight was a bachelor. He took the sword and took out a purse from his arms. He didn't count it and threw it to the young man.

The young man took the purse and looked at the old man. The old man smiled and nodded to signal him to accept it. So the young man gave a greeting, turned around and left, and the people watching the fun gradually dissipated.

Seeing that the white-haired knight began to train his attendants again, Roger directed the maid to continue wandering around.

They wandered all the way to the stables and found that there were many people serving the horses there. Roger signaled the maid to come over.

"I want me to say,"

A tall and heavy man was brushing the horse's neck with a straight-haired brush in the stable. His horse was tall and big.

"A good war horse must be able to carry weights, and the best war horse can carry four fully armed knights at the same time."

The man next door bent over, took the hoof and the soil and stones on the horse's hoof, and interrupted: "Are you talking about a horse? It's a long-nosed elephant."

The tall man kept brushing and said, "My horse is fine. My Sharp horse was given to me by a relative of mine. My relative went to England with William the conqueror. He had a horse farm and raised many Sharp horses. The horse was strong. Look, it was so strong that the horse could not carry me."
To be continued...