The scorching sun is always high in the sky and seems to never set.
Gordon buried his head, sweat gathered on his forehead and formed thin hot streams, winding down. He moved his tired legs, as if he was trying his best to squeeze oil from a stone.
The surroundings were filled with bright white light, which made people unable to see clearly. Gordon closed his eyes, let them rest for a while and then opened them again. What he saw was still the endless stretch of red sand shining with strong light.
After walking for a long time, Gordon didn't see the town. Occasionally he encountered a few piles of camel dung, which made him confirm that he was not going in the wrong direction.
The Blood Hell Society did not want all the piglets to die, and deliberately left some markers and even supplies along the way.
It was hard for Gordon to see other people. As everyone dispersed and went deeper into the Gobi, the distance between them had long since grown.
Sometimes, he heard the faint and indistinguishable screams of child slaves brought by the wind. They were either entangled in a man-eating thorn tree, or attacked by a sandstone-shaped rock lizard...
More than an hour ago, he saw a nest of gerbils coming out from a distance and surrounding two sobbing girls.
That was the last time he met a living person.
Gordon opened the water bag, licked it to moisturize his dry lips, and tied it again. There was a cluster of cactus growing on the sand dune in front of him, but he avoided it. Although the plump cactus had a lot of water, there was still a lot of water hidden in it.
Tapeworms burrow through the skin and crawl through the bloodstream into the heart.
After bypassing the sand dunes, a figure vaguely appeared in the distance. Gordon crouched down and hid in the shadow of the sand dunes, holding a knife and preparing to attack.
He needs to hunt for more water.
The figure slowly walked over. To be precise, it was a young man carrying another on his back. The young man had a shaved scalp and only had a pigtail on the back of his head. His eyes were narrow and long, and there were two natural brown patterns at the corners of his eyes.
Most of his clothes were torn, revealing his dark and strong chest and abdomen, as tough as a panther.
Sweat kept dripping from the young man's cheeks and fell on his thick neck, shining brightly. He gritted his teeth, lifted his companion up, and said something else.
Gordon didn't see the water bag, so he didn't intend to provoke them. He felt that the boy's eyes were very familiar, as if he had seen them somewhere before.
The young man gradually approached. "Adu, hold on, we will arrive in the town soon." He said to the child slave on his back.
"Artai, I, I can't survive anymore, put me down and go." The voice of the child slave on his back was weak, and muddy foam flowed from the corner of his mouth.
"I won't let go. Adu, it's really almost here, please bear with it a little longer." Artai hissed, "We will go back to the village together in the future. There are wild hawthorns and a small river in the village, and the river is full of trout.
Fish, and Ana.”
Adu groaned: "Ana..."
Artest nodded repeatedly: "Yes, you even peeked at Ana taking a shower."
Gordon remained motionless, sizing up Artest secretly. He had never met a person like Artest, who sacrificed himself to save his friends. He was a fool only found in stories about knights.
But Artest spotted Gordon, his eyes as sharp as arrows. He caught a glimpse of the water bag on Gordon's waist, and the arrow shone brightly.
Gordon sighed softly. Yes, he remembered. He had seen Artest's eyes in the mirror. During the thirteen years of paralysis, he also had such a look in his eyes that he did not hesitate to do anything.
"Give me water." Artest said to him.
Gordon didn't speak, straightened up, and raised the knife. If he had a choice, he didn't want to fight Artest to the death. Gordon knew very well what kind of abnormal physique a guy who could carry a person on his back through the Gobi has. He
It is also clear what kind of perverted will Artest possesses.
This is a more terrifying opponent than Ge Ying! Fortunately, the opponent is bare-handed, and he has a knife coated with snake venom.
"Give me water!" Artest put down Adu and shouted excitedly. "Please, my brother needs water!"
Gordon couldn't help being stunned when he saw the other party's pleading look.
"Please, save my brother, give him some water." Artest kept begging, his voice trembling. "I will repay you, I swear!"
This person has weaknesses, and those who have weaknesses are easy to deal with. Gordon threw the water bag to the ground. Of course he would not sacrifice himself for others. The purpose of throwing the water bag was to attract Artest's attention. As long as he picked it up, Gordon would rush to Adu
In front of him, Artest would rush over to save him while he was pretending to kill him. At that time, he took advantage of the opponent's panic and stabbed him with blood.
"Thank you, friend. Really, Artest will always be grateful to you." Artest thanked you incoherently and bent down to pick up the water bag.
Gordon rushed to Atai and was about to swing his knife, but suddenly stopped. He turned to look at Atai and shook his head: "He is dead."
Artai was dumbfounded, and immediately rushed over: "Adu, what's wrong with you? Wake up, there is water, you are saved, Adu! Adu! Adu!" He shook Adu frantically, and the latter
No response.
Gordon slowly backed away, picked up the water bag and left. He walked a few steps and looked back to see Artest kneeling next to the body, his eyes ashen and his lone figure desolate.
"Friend, can you do me a favor? I want to bury my brother." Artai's dull voice came over.
Gordon froze, wasting time and energy on such a meaningless thing? But he didn't want to irritate the injured black panther, so as not to cause more trouble. So he had to walk over and smash the hole with the handle of the knife. The tip of the knife was painted
Of course, snake venom should not be wasted casually.
"Why not dig with the tip of a knife?"
"This... is more pious."
Atai was also digging with his hands. The gravel was very hard, and his fingers tore the skin and made him bleed. They put Adu into the sand pit and covered it with sand. The two of them worked together to move a heavy piece of wind rock.
Standing on the tomb, Atai put his left hand on the sharp edge of the wind-shaped rock, and a hole was made in his palm, and blood seeped into the rock.
"The blood of brothers does not distinguish between you and me." He turned to look at Gordon and said seriously, "You are willing to give life-saving water to Adu and dig his grave with your own hands. You are also his brother. So you
Do the same."
Gordon froze again, but still did as he was told. He stared at the blood in his palms slowly seeping into the winding rock. This should be a funeral ceremony unique to the barbarians.
"From now on, we are brothers." Artest raised his hand, his bleeding palm pressed against Gordon's, and their blood blended together. He repeated solemnly, "The blood of brothers does not distinguish between you and me."
This man is really the fool in the story of knights. Only fools can easily trust others. The world is really as simple as a novel. Gordon looked at the patterns in the corners of Artest's eyes and asked: "Are you barbarians?" Barbarians also belong to human beings.
, most of them live in high mountain areas, and are famous for their strong physique and strong body.
Artai nodded: "Adu and I are good brothers from the same village. I heard that a circus came to the town. Who would have expected..."
"Who would have thought that the circus kidnapped children." Gordon added without hesitation. Seeing Artest's surprised expression, he explained with experience, "It's not difficult to guess. This is how the protagonist in "The Puppet Chronicles" was fooled.
, so circuses are equal to slave traders.”
Artai said with admiration: "You are really knowledgeable. I am illiterate, but I will learn to read in the future. Which books are better?"
""Born a Villain", "I Am a Murderer", "The Cruel, the Happier", "The Story I Have to Tell with Ten Thousand Corpses"... You have to understand that books are the ladder of human progress." This is.
It was Gordon's first time chatting peacefully with his peers. It felt very novel and he inevitably talked a little too much. As he chatted, he suddenly realized that these words revealed a lot of information.
Kill him and silence him? Gordon weighed it up and realized that if he had this tough barbarian with him, his chances of survival would be great. He tried to invite him, and Artest readily agreed.
Then kill him later, now you can use him as cannon fodder.
Gordon handed the water bag to Artest, just like a sword needs oiling and maintenance, cannon fodder also needs a little investment.
Artest's throat trembled and he shook his head with difficulty: "I'm not thirsty."
Gordon tied up the water bag with satisfaction. This cannon fodder knows how to advance and retreat, so he can consider keeping it for a long time. They walked west side by side, the sun was setting, and the temperature began to drop.
"Looking at the situation, we won't be able to reach the town. Hurry up and choose a place to spend the night." Gordon said to Artest, and the two speeded up.