The lean middle-aged man explained confidently: "Master, think about it, the slaves you bought before have been through countless hands and been trained by countless people. Although they are easy to use, they are not
First-hand things, these people are different. You, the master, went to the mountains and caught them yourself. If you can personally train them into qualified slaves, that would be a very fulfilling thing."
"Well, it makes some sense." Although Bartley didn't like the other party, what he said did make sense. It sounded very heart-warming. Among his group of people, it seemed that no one had achieved such an achievement. If so,
If you really train one or two excellent slaves and take them out at the masquerade, they will definitely attract a circle of attention. "Go on, are there any more? These alone are not worth the gold."
"If you give it to me, it's your reward. If you don't give it, it's a matter of course. There's no such thing as worthless. It's my honor to be able to give you advice." The lean middle-aged man always had a humble face.
"If they were just serfs, the villain would never disturb the master's pleasure. But these are all potential gladiators. Look at their arms, legs, and especially their hands. They are more than three stones high."
It is absolutely easy to make a strong bow. Maybe there are one or two eagle shooters and giant bear hunters hidden in it. Throw them into the arena to practice for a few rounds. The best gladiators will be the ones who survive.
If you can shine at the gladiatorial conference, it will be so bright on the master's face. After all, other slave owners' gladiators are bought with money, but the master's slaves are caught by hand, and they are not of the same grade.
matter."
"Okay, okay, very good." Bartley said three good words in a row, and threw the bag of gold coins to the lean middle-aged man. After sweeping away the dejection just now, his whole face was shining, and he turned to face the other person.
A young man on the sliding pole said, "Benson, I didn't expect that you would have such a talented person, and he would come up with such a wonderful idea. Why didn't you think of it before? Make a price, and I will take this person."
The young man named Benson seemed to have just woken up and yawned feebly, "If you like it, just take it away. Let's talk about money or not. Such a person, my father has
I don’t know how many there are in there. He has already shown his face. He can no longer go into the mountains and is of no use. I have already said that slave hunting is different from hunting. It is a hard job. You don’t believe it, but now you do.
Come on, my waist is more tired than fighting those little goblins in bed for a thousand rounds."
"It's not hard!" Bartley said with a rosy face, "If it really looks like...what's your name?"
"Heber, Heber*Xosa, it's my honor to serve you. Although I won't be able to go into the mountains again, I still know a little bit about how to tame slaves and people. I will never let you down."
." The lean middle-aged man was overjoyed. This was the main reason why he had been busy and active these days, and now he finally got what he wanted.
Heber himself also knew that leading the slave hunting team into the mountains was a one-shot deal. Once he was exposed, the risk of entering the mountains again would be extremely high. Not only would his identity be exposed, he might fall into the treacherous plot of the mountain people, leading to slave hunting.
The team was ambushed, and few people would use the ghost slaves who had already led the way. The value of their use in the slave hunting city of Bastille was greatly reduced. If they could get along with the noble master from the territorial capital, their future life would be guaranteed.
"Heber, that's good, that's good. You're a talent. Work hard and I won't treat you badly in the future." He felt better and looked at the other person no longer so annoying. Bartley said with a little joy, "If it's Heber's
The plan can come true. Sir, I will be famous in the city of Sauron by then. Do they dare to say that I am ignorant and incompetent? It is best to kill all the two idiot gladiators, Philip and Patram.
Let them become the biggest joke, haha... No, you can't rely on luck alone. After you go back, you have to train them hard. This way, you have greater certainty. How long does it take to return to Bastille? I can't wait.
.”
"It's useless to be impatient." Benson still looked half-dead, "We have to go for at least two days."
"Two more days?! Isn't there a shortcut?" Bartley asked impatiently. For an impatient person, if he has a good idea and doesn't put it into action immediately, it is simply worse than having a cat scratching his heart.
Even more uncomfortable.
"There is a shortcut..." Heber, who had just surrendered, did not miss any opportunity to express himself. Just as he was about to open his mouth, Benson snorted coldly and was frightened back to his stomach. Compared to Bartley, he was more afraid of himself.
Although Bartley, the original owner, was a bit irritable, he would express his expressions straightforwardly. As long as you could figure out his character, he was relatively easy to serve. However, Benson was different.
When you are late, you are very sick, as if you are about to die at any time, but when you become really violent, it makes people panic. The most important thing is that you think you have figured out this young man, but you soon find that there is more to him.
On the other hand, this kind of unstable person is the most difficult type of master to serve. In the hands of this kind of person, you often die without knowing how.
Benson half sat up and glanced at Heber with a wolf-like gaze, as if to warn him not to talk nonsense, but he said casually to Bartley: "Who can blame you? It was because of your momentary behavior before.
I only ran so far out of curiosity, but I suggested going back two days ago. This kind of thing can only be done once you get a taste of it. Who knows if you become crazy enough?"
"Okay, okay, let's preach the same virtue as that old immortal. Master, I just ran out to relax because I couldn't stand being talked about by that old guy. I didn't come to listen to you talking about it." Bartley rushed angrily.
Benson rolled his eyes and said, "Don't put on your airs here. Heber is already mine and you can't control him anymore. If you have anything to say, just say it. He doesn't dare to do anything to you."
"This..." Heber glanced at Benson secretly. He still had an expressionless poker face, showing no emotion or joy. The more he looked like this, the more it made him feel chilly in his heart.
"What? Master, I can't speak as well as he can?" Seeing Heber's performance reminded Bartley of some unpleasant memories, his eyes were on fire and his nose was twisted with anger.
"Don't dare! Don't dare!" Heber weighed for a while. Although Benson was scary, he was the previous master after all, and Bartley was the future master. He was the one who decided whether his life would be good or not. He gritted his teeth and said, "It's better to leave with us.
According to the ancient river course of the time, we can return a day and a half earlier by following the original route, but the risk will be greatly increased."
"The risk has increased significantly? What nonsense? Didn't we come in safely before? Besides, we have wiped out all the barbarian villages on the way here. How can there be any danger?" Bartley said dissatisfied.
Heber complained in his mind that laymen are laymen, and explained: "It's different. When we came in before, we were all our own people, and it was easier to conceal our whereabouts. But now with so many mountain people, only a few of them are not afraid of death."
Yes, if you deliberately make a little noise, we will be exposed easily. These mountain people are like rats, everywhere. Even if the villain has been here for more than ten years, he dare not say that he has discovered all the conditions in the surrounding villages.
It’s clear, if we get entangled when we pass by an unknown village, it will be in trouble. Moreover, many adult hunters in the villages we conquered previously have gone out to hunt and are not in the villages. Those are all
They are the top hunters, and many of them are ruthless characters who dare to chase and fight the giant beasts in the mountains alone. The jungles grow in the ancient rivers, which is very beneficial for them to hide their whereabouts..."
"Ha, this is a good thing." After hearing this, Bartley not only did not smell the strong murderous intent inside, but said excitedly, "I am also worried that the quality of the goods we caught is too low, and it will delay my important event.
It would be the best thing if we could really capture a few of those giant bear hunters and giant tiger hunters. Hey, it’s not like you haven’t seen the strength of the knights I brought here. Just a few hunters can turn over the enemy.
What kind of waves are coming?"
"It's different, it's different!" Heber wanted to give himself two slaps at this moment, so that he would be too talkative and eager to express himself. Now he would have tricked himself.
If this master made any mistake, let alone himself, even those who were related to him would not have any chance of survival. He knew that it was useless to say more. He had seen such a noble master.
There are simply too many.
No matter how reasonable the words spoken by slaves like him are, they will only listen to what they want to hear and hear what they don't want to hear. Ignoring or giving them a whipping is considered good. Those with a higher temper can just ignore it.
Even nine lives were not enough to fill it up. Afterwards, he even called it a nice way to get rid of the evil slave who deceived his master.
Now Heber could only look at Benson longingly, placing his hope on her, hoping that his former master would be sensible and not accept Bartley's temptation easily.
I hope the other party can understand that a sneak attack and being sneak attacked are completely different things. Grasslands and mountains are two completely different battlefields.
If it's the former, a knight armed to the teeth is running around with a small group (ten people) of mountain hunters that can be chased by three to five followers. If it's the latter, one or two mountain hunters can chase them down.
A squadron (thirty people) of knights were playing around.
I don’t even think about it. If the knights could show their power here, the cavalry led by Manyu’s army would have conquered this place long ago. How could these mountain people have been allowed to live freely for so many years? Where is the need for Bastille, a dedicated hunting slave city?
Help them hunt slaves?
Benson directly ignored Heber's pleading eyes. He already hated this troublesome guy in his heart. After he came out of the mountain, even if he had promised to give it to Bartley, he would definitely find a way to kill this guy. How dare he kill this clever guy?
It got to his head. I really thought Benson Batchel was such an easy talker.