That morning, all the citizens were in a state of excitement. They happily talked about the interesting stories and gossip they saw, cursed the damn thieves and robbers, and happily walked towards the gallows next to the town.

"Hey, Dan, today is such a great day. The group of robbers near the town have finally been arrested!" A mustached man in a blue roll-sleeved shirt full of ragged pudding smiled and talked to the butcher shop owner next to him.

"Yes, I heard that the poor wine merchant Lao Luo'er was stolen from two carriages, causing the price of wine in the city to double during that period. It's so damn." The butcher shop owner who was obsessed with alcohol patted his big beer belly and said resentful.

"But thankfully, they got the fate they deserved! Alas, I really hope that Lao Luo's eyes can be opened in heaven to see how the enemy who killed him died on this broken gallows." The bearded man was in a good mood and patted the butcher's owner on the shoulder.

"Don't touch me, keep your blue nails away!" Although the butcher shop owner could calmly talk to the man in blue-clad clothes, he was as excited as a cat with a blown hair when he touched his body.

"Sorry, man, my fault. I was so happy today!" The man in blue-clad mustache smiled bitterly and stepped aside in disappointment.

It turns out that the bearded man is a dyer working in a dyeing workshop. Since the dyer usually comes into contact with various dyes, many colors that are difficult to wash away on his fingers are nicknamed "blue nails" by others, and is silently contempt and prejudiced by other citizens.

Of course, the butcher and his butcher shop themselves are also very unpopular with urban residents due to their killing and strong bloody smell.

In the jubilant crowd, the crooked man with his hands tightly tied up with his hands was like a defeated rooster, dejectedly being taken to the gallows by two well-equipped bailiffs under the gaze of everyone.

No one threw rotten vegetables and rotten eggs at him. Because the supplies were too poor, many people could not even solve their own food and clothing. In this case, throwing these "luxury food" was simply a crime.

"Damn Cohen!" Before his death, the crooked-mouthed man's eyes were extremely resentful and unwilling.

These days, he met a gray-clothed minion with a wounded lower body and a trance in the dark and wet dungeon. He knew that it was impossible for this guy who was now mentally retarded to be secretly vented. In addition, Cowan, who was originally penetrated by an arrow, was already missing by the bailiff.

"I shouldn't have bragged about the fact that my relatives had achieved some success in London!" The crooked man regretted it.

After being betrayed by Cowan, the bulls that were originally blown out have now become his death talisman.

"Ahem, quiet!" An old man in a large loose robe walked onto the gallows and looked at the bustling citizens below. The citizens who were still noisy just now gradually calmed down and looked at the old man together.

"Crooked Rex, you are accused of stealing, robbery, rape, murder and other charges. Do you have any last words to say before you die?" The old judge looked down at the crooked man who was being escorted.

"I curse the man who betrayed me and betrayed me and fell into hell after he died!" The crooked man was so angry that his voice trembled a little. After saying that, he spitted phlegm on the ground.

"On the contrary, He helped us eliminate you, a scum who is as evil as a Satanist, and saved his own soul and would not go to hell after death." A priest on the side shook his head gently and said slowly.

"If there is nothing else to say, start the execution now!" After the old judge said that, he waved to the musician not far away. Soon, a melodious trumpet sounded.

"What other last words do you have to say to Satan, you must have many common topics with him!" The executioner covered the crooked man's face with a black cloth, put a rope around his neck, and pulled the switch next to the gallows.

"Dong!"

The trap of the soles of the crooked man's feet suddenly opened.

The evil man hung in the air and struggled. After a while, there was no movement in the cheers of the crowd.

"Let's go," Simon, behind the crowd, rubbed Little Clein's messy hair, "Go to the leather and blacksmith to get the repaired equipment back. It's time for us to go back."

Simon's trip was a lot of rewards.

All kinds of spoils sold fifty-three Transnier silver coins, earned fifteen Transnier silver coins for Baron Isel, and sold the catapult cart to Baron Red to earn eighteen Transnier silver coins...

The income was a lot, and the expenditure was also a lot. The stonemason Ryan spent twenty silver coins, seven silver coins for making a catapult cart, six silver coins for repairing equipment for the blacksmith cobbler, eight single bows and several arrows for eight silver coins, and other expenses such as food and accommodation, maintenance of horses, and buying slaves, etc., cost nearly three silver coins...

"I think I made a net profit of forty-two Transnell silver coins this time, and brought back a car of weapons and equipment, and there were nearly thirty slaves." Simon thought, showing a satisfied smile.

………

It was a dark morning with dark clouds. Simon's convoy embarked on the journey back with the salty and wet sea breeze and the gulls.

"Try to go as fast as possible and try to arrive in Iselberg before it rains." Simon, who was riding a tall horse, ordered the soldiers.

The soldiers looked very majestic in rebuilt armor.

Squad leader Miller wore a repaired cavalry helmet with leather neck protection, clean soft armor lining, a brand new and shiny chain mail, with a complete iron sword around his waist, and led the convoy forward with his head held high with the envious eyes of the citizens.

The other soldiers were also wearing repaired leather armor, holding straight and sharp spears, and following on both sides of the convoy.

"Oh, my God, is this an elite mercenary team? I may not be able to bear the armor and equipment on the guy who is leading the way." A young man from a grocery store stared blankly at Simon and his team walking towards him, his eyes burning.

"You are blind, that's a noble private army! Haven't you seen the heraldry burqa on the body of the adults riding behind?" The grocery store owner walked out from behind and looked at the team passing by the door of the store. "I seem to have seen this Lord's emblem somewhere... By the way, it's the Dorsten family in the Earl of Berg in the south!"

"The Dorsten family? Their housekeepers come to Port Aberdoron every now and then to sell crops and agricultural products produced in their territory and buy all kinds of goods here. Although the move was not as generous as the nobles of Friesland and the Duchy of Flanders." A pottery craftsman talked and talked to the grocery store owner.

"But I heard from a traveling merchant from the south that their family had a village blessed by God, called Folde, and the fatty barley and oats were unheard of by all of us. There were even rumors that the harvest of wheat there could be as high as 10 to 20." The grocery store owner said, while sending the young man in the store to continue working.

"Oh my God, aren't you bragging?" said the pottery craftsman incredibly surprised, "this sounds more like a fool made up by some guy who was drunk in an olive branch tavern."

"Who knows," the grocery merchandise added, "maybe God knows."

The grocer and the clay pot craftsman were completely unaware of the conversation they had just talked about was heard by a man with ragged blond hair and tall blue eyes next to him.

"No, Fold Village? I was robbed last year and was poor and white," the blond man frowned and tall and thin, thinking carefully, and walked to the tavern not far away. "Maybe I have to ask a few more well-informed people to verify."

………

"Master, have all the thirty slaves been sent back to the village of Fold?" The voice of Little Krein, who was riding a pack horse behind, sounded a little childish.

"That's right." Simon nodded.

It turned out that Simon, who knew that he would stay in Port Aberdoron for a while, felt that it was a pity that it was vacant during this period, so he spent some money to ask the clerk of the town to write a letter to Baron Issel, entrusting him to send his thirty slaves back to the village of Fold, and as soon as possible, let the fat man and the village chief organize them to train recruits, build wooden forts and cultivate public fields.

"I've been out for so long, I don't know how the village is now." Simon thought to himself.

"Iselberg!" Miller suddenly pointed ahead and said happily.
Chapter completed!