The man carrying a heavy wooden box ran under the quiet night sky, ducking sideways through gaps in boulders, and jumping over low shrubs. His figure was like a shadow moving through the darkness.
He looked back from time to time, but he didn't realize that sweat had already wet the clothes on his back.
Further south, the trees become denser, the roads become steeper, and the solid land is gradually replaced by soft wetlands.
The man looked up at the direction of the moon and turned his head to listen to the movement around him. The sound of the wind blowing through the leaves and the sound of grass and trees hitting the stones made him clenched his fists nervously.
He climbed up the mound next to him using his hands and feet, and just wanted to jump off the slope on the other side.
The sound of crossbows breaking through the wind suddenly exploded.
A crossbow arrow glowing with silver light shot towards his ankle.
Almost as an instinctive reaction of the body, the man leaned his body to one side and pushed forward with his feet, narrowly avoiding the attack.
He slowly climbed up from the ground, placed the wooden box behind him on the ground, and shouted towards the deserted forest: "Come out! You're a lackey of the church!"
The sound of urn and urn resounded among the trees.
"The filthy rats in the sewers always make such a harsh cry before they die."
Three men and one woman slowly walked from the darkness into the moonlight.
The tall man at the front was wearing an Anglo chainmail. Under a full iron mask, a pair of emotionless eyes stared at the wooden box placed on the ground.
The short, fat man holding a crossbow put the weapon on his shoulder and looked at the alert escaper in front of him with a joking look. His voice was as low and rough as ever: "Marcus Bourne, we have been following you for a long time.
It’s been so long that you can’t even imagine.”
Quietly pulling out the dagger from his waist, Marcos calmed his breathing and scratched his skin with the blade. The blood flowed through the metal surface of the weapon. Instead of dripping into the soil as expected, it was instead absorbed like grease.
The surface of the sword body.
When the blood covered the entire blade, Marcos tore off the hem of his clothes with his teeth, used the torn strip of cloth as a bandage, and bandaged the wound.
"Come here with your horse."
He swung the sword blade into the air, and the violent friction caused by the vigorous swing actually ignited the entire dagger. The color of the flame was not ordinary red and yellow, but faintly purple and black.
.
The short and fat man narrowed his eyes slightly, put the crossbow on his chest again, took out a black crossbow arrow from his back, and whispered: "The alien species of the sun..."
The man wearing an iron mask shook his chain mail and took a step forward.
The woman, whose whole body was shrouded in the church's white robe, made a voice: "Boss, you don't have to take action yourself..."
The leader slowly drew out the two-handed sword from behind, and plunged it into the ground in front of him with a bang, clearly expressing his order. The other three team members no longer made any objections, and silently retreated.
Marcos held the lit dagger diagonally in front of his chest and looked at the man who was as motionless as a mountain not far away. The other man's blade was still stuck in the soil, and his figure did not move at all, but cold sweat ran down his horse.
Cos's face slowly flowed.
He stepped the toe of his right foot hard into the soil, and a black flame rising like hell rolled forward. The air and dust instantly became scorched due to the high temperature, and the tip of Marcos' sword instantly appeared in front of the leader's face.
.
The man whose face was completely covered in iron armor moved, and his foot kicked hard on the big sword in the soil. The huge force brought up the soil and fallen leaves, and hit Marcos' body, forcing the opponent's figure to stagnate.
for a moment.
The two-handed sword moved from the lower left to the upper right.
The sword blades collided, and fire exploded.
The owner of the dagger was knocked off course by the force of the attack, and staggered back a few steps.
The man in the iron mask inserted the weapon into the ground again, and placed his hands on the hilt of the sword. He did not pursue the victory, nor did he open his mouth to taunt, but just waited...waited quietly.
Marcos knelt on one knee, grabbed the tree trunk behind him with one hand, and inserted the dagger in the other hand into a pool of water. Not only was the flame on the sword not extinguished by the water, but it burned more and more intensely. There was no trace of fear or fear in his eyes.
Frustration only burns endless fighting spirit.
For the first time, the eyes behind the Iron Mask showed an emotional change. He nodded slightly, and the two-handed sword was pulled out of the soil. The leader raised the weapon for the first time and assumed a fighting posture.
Another sword strike.
The deafening sound stirred up the roars of animals deep in the jungle.
The dagger was still barely in Marcos' hand, but the bloody mouth and awkward footsteps showed that the warrior was struggling.
The two sides fought for several more rounds.
Taking advantage of the opponent's weakness, the Iron Masked Man reversed the hilt of his sword and hit the opponent directly in the abdomen, forcing Marcos to let out a dull roar and kneel to the ground.
"Life or death?"
The blade of the big sword was pointed at the chest of the fallen man. The leader of the team stopped the other three people with one hand and held the hilt of the sword with the other hand.
Marcos, who was kneeling on his knees, his whole body trembling, dropped the jagged dagger in his right hand and fell to the ground.
Seeing this scene, the other three people in the team breathed a sigh of relief.
The short and fat man put down the crossbow in his hand and said disdainfully: "A mouse is a mouse..."
The words were not spoken yet.
At first it was a low chuckle, and then he laughed wildly. Marcos suddenly stretched out his hands forward, firmly grasped the Iron Mask's sword, and lunged forward with all his strength, the blade of the sword from his chest to his back.
It passed through the body. A large amount of blood spattered out, and not a drop fell to the ground. Instead, it tightly wrapped the Iron Mask's sword and armor like a "shroud."
Vomiting blood, the alien stared at the eyes behind the steel with his blood-red eyes, and said word by word: "Live to die!"
boom!
The blood that flowed out burned instantly, the black and purple fire burst into flames, and the purgatory-like cage of flames swallowed the two of them.
"...Do you have any children?"
Marcos, who was hugging the man in the iron mask tightly, suddenly heard these words in his ears when the flames burned his whole body.
Thinking it was an auditory hallucination, he used his last strength to raise his head and look at the other person in the karma fire.
"Do you have any children?"
After confirming again, Marcos understood that this sentence indeed came from the other party's mouth.
Marcos, who was not yet married, shook his head subconsciously, but a vivid black figure appeared in his mind.
As if he didn't care at all about the black and purple flames surrounding him, the man with the iron mask nodded slightly.
"That's good……"
The two-handed sword was drawn and slashed in one go.
The last thing Marcos saw when his body and head were separated was...
The Iron Masked Man, whose whole body was burning, stretched his right hand palm outward toward his chest, and the sky-like flames were instantly sucked into his body. Only bursts of green smoke slowly rose from the armor.
The battle is over.
The short, fat man put away his weapon, put on his gloves, and picked up Marcos' head.
Looking at the shapeless remains burned by the flames in his hands, he shouted loudly to the leader in the distance: "Boss, how much should this alien species of the Sun be labeled?"
The man in iron mask picked up the wooden box on the ground, crushed the wood on the top of the box with one hand, looked at the stones inside, and said without looking back: "Five."
After hearing the answer, the short and fat man took out a delicate small iron box from his luggage and opened the lid. It was filled with iron seals and divided into two rows.
There are 22 seals in the upper row, each with the words "chariot", "tower", "judgment" and other words engraved in Latin; the lower row has 12 seals, each with the words "chariot", "tower", and "judgment" engraved in Latin.
number.
First, he found the seal with the word "sun" in the top row, and then found the seal with the word "V" in the bottom row. Then, the short and fat man opened the charcoal stove he carried and put the seal on the red-hot coals.
After roasting for a while, he finally pressed hard on the forehead of Marcos' head.
"'Sun V'..." The short, fat man put the branded and engraved head of the deceased into a cloth bag, put it in his luggage, and whispered: "It's only five, I thought it would be higher."
Throwing away the wooden box in his hand, the man in the iron mask looked at the stones scattered on the ground and was silent for a long time.
In the night sky, an owl fluttered its wings and landed on the arm of the woman in white robe.
The woman teased the little messenger's little face, untied a log tube from its ankle, took out the note inside, and read out the content in front of the leader: "The junction of Luoxing Mountain Range and Yuexi Plain
The village there, the burned hut, the bodies of two people wanted by the church, the writing left in the cellar...'Nascentes_morimur'."
The man in iron mask put the sword behind his back again, looked at the plain to the west, and whispered softly: "Relief Society..."