"Dinner is here, guys."

"I don't want dinner! I want my hat. It's not this one, it's that leather hat!"

"Have you seen his hat, York?"

"No. Try it, Saudi…Dalton, what soup is this?"

“Fish soup.”

"Go to hell! I saw the Bone Claw. What is this?"

"Rabbit Soup. Isn't this thing you stewed?"

"But the ingredients were not what I did, I just threw it into boiling water, along with spices, carrots, and celery. What are you grabbing, Dalton?"

"I don't know. But it's not toxic and looks edible."

"Do you think prey will be poisoned to us, which means it is not poisonous to us? Even if it was originally healthy in flesh, we can't eat it now!"

"I'm sure I've eliminated the toxins... Why do you ask these nonsense? You drink the fastest. Besides, what else can you do? Take the coffee beans and cook them?"

No one responded, because a terrible wail that could pierce the eardrums, drowned out all the sounds. "You actually brought my hat to serve soup!"

"Don't worry, I washed it before and used the new potion to disinfect it. If anyone tasted dandruff, it must be the one you just fell in. Don't dislike it."

“Only humans can turn dandruff—”

"The same goes for Zoer."

"——Extremely frequent. There is a fly in your bowl, York, do you see it?"

There were screams again, and the messy adventurer swearing. "Where?"

"You didn't see it? Then you still drink it?"

"What's the meaning?"

"You just swallowed it. Sorry, I thought Sita's dandruff was a fly."

"Did you think Sita likes to eat dandruff?" A gloating laugh was still not alone.

Uriel really couldn't stand it.

"Can you be quiet, yeah?" The apprentice opened his eyes, but immediately turned his head by the bonfire. "Gaia is on, how can you make a fire in the forest?" The other forests may be fine, but this is the glimmer forest of St. Valorand. "Hell, York, aren't you an adventurer? Dalton? Why don't you remind him?"

"Stop talking nonsense!" A shout scared him. This was a strange voice. Who is it? "Do you love to drink? It's almost dawn, why are you sleeping?"

Uriel quickly got up, and his head thumped into the tree trunk with a thump. He didn't care about the pain, and pulled out the sword with a clang-and then quickly threw it away. This was not his sword, the handle was dirty and the blade was rusty, as if it would crack into pieces at any time. He stared at it, unable to figure out what was going on.

The situation could not tolerate him thinking, and there seemed to be more than four people around him. To be precise, there were six. Ulier used the fire to see their appearance: his face was covered in dust, his edges, his eyes were deep, and his eyes were all like travelers after a long journey. What's strange is that these people all had strange facial features, without York, Dalton and Saudi Arabia, not to mention the doctor Kleia - they were all obvious men. I just heard her voice, and Ulier thought to himself, was it a hallucination in half a dream?

He looked down at himself. A pair of bad boots, his legs rolled to his knees. No wonder he felt so weird when he stood up. A scabbard hung from the belt, most of the leather was exposed, and he was nailed together by messy stitches. The shirt was covered with sour smell of sweat, and even more tattered leather armor was wrapped around the outside. The burrs on the neckline could shatter the throat. To avoid losing their lives in a dream, its owner wisely put the breastplate in reverse. A strip of cloth with faded symbols stuck around his chest, and black hay fell off when he shook it open.

This is not a forest. From the hillside to the plain, it is empty, with a few trees dotted alone on the vast green space, and the moon is so thin that it is almost invisible. The bonfire is burning in the wind, and the ashes are floating, coiled around the edge of the iron pot. A forked thick branch leans not far away, because the handle of the iron pot is rotten.

Six people surrounded by the orange flame, and twelve eyes were eager to get into the pot. Several horses were tied together and chewing on the grass. It seemed that they were probably not talking just now. Uriel could hear clearly the voices of York and Dalton, and the screams of the poet. However, they were not here.

When I woke up from my dream, I found myself standing in a strange place, wearing strange clothes and weapons, surrounded by strangers. To be honest, he was not unfamiliar with this feeling.

"I'm in a dream." Uriel muttered, "It's Mortus again?" Audit hallucinations are mostly his imagination. This is how dreams are. He will bring things from his subconscious into this collective dream. The difference is that he is not near Chitarian. What's going on this time?

"We have to walk thirty miles." The man who held the stick and acted as a chef spoke, "Come tomorrow before day."

"daytime?"

"Tomorrow is daytime. Are you deaf? That's what the boss's orders are."

“Where are we going?”

"Didn't I say it?" the chef raised his voice, "The god-killing Mortus!"

Mortus? "Wait!" Uriel blurted out, "Where are we now?"

As a result, no one paid attention to him. No one paid attention to him. "The problem is that we only have four horses. This is impossible."

"Impossible?" The chef swung the spoon, "Explain it to the boss yourself!"

The man who answered him avoided the splash of juice and argued with the chef. The two watched the excitement, and the two ignored the dispute, and their attention was always focused on the boiling soup pot. Uriel walked up to them, hoping that they would answer the questions as if they were responding to his complaints, but the men ignored him. The apprentice was very disappointed.

So he snatched the wooden stick from the chef and knocked the soup over with one stick.

No one quarreled again now. "Hell, Uriel, look at what you did!" a man screamed.

Sorry, but I did it on purpose. He didn't mind if he could attract attention. This is undoubtedly a dream constructed by the confession, but Uriel shouldn't have appeared here. In fact, he didn't even know when he fell asleep. What about Citharian and Ruth? Did the Black Knight discover their night meeting? As long as he could communicate, these doubts could be answered.

But things didn't go as he expected. As soon as the apprentice was about to speak, a voice suddenly sounded first: "It's not me!"

...No, right? He turned his head in surprise, watched the chef dance and shouted. "It was not me who did it! The fork moved by himself!"

"It's magic." One of them concluded. His head was bald, his nose was covered with freckles, but he didn't grow any grass when he reached his chin. This guy was called "hole eyes" by his companions and was considered a scout in the team. "Have you become a mysterious creature, Uriel?"

"Do you think the potion I cooked in the pot? Of course it is impossible!" The chef with the same name shouted back.

"He just failed for a moment." "Blackfaced" said his. His was the first person to question the chef. In terms of dressing, he was not much neater than his apprentice. His face was thick and dense, and dirty enough to raise a nest of cockroaches. A piece of rag tied to his elbow and looked like a bandage. "Don't force him, holes, you know, he couldn't admit that he had failed."

"Forget it, his spoon was out of the soup pot, and his accuracy was greatly improved."

The five people laughed and began a new round of sarcasm. Chef Uriel cursed and his saliva sprayed in the poured soup pot. The apprentice stood there laughter and cry, listening to the adventurer - of course, the adventurer. The tramp could not set up a pot in the wilderness, and even more impossible to wear weapons and uniform armbands - joked about his name. Although his name is not rare at all, let alone increase the price, it feels strange to listen to these things in person.

"Don't drink my soup in the next life!" After packing my bags, the chef threw away the spoon and stood up angrily. "Go away quickly, we must arrive at Mortus for a limited time. Just walk thirty miles with hunger."

"What's this? As long as the horse is not hungry, it's done."

They quickly packed up their things and cleared the traces left by camping. Some veterans were still some veterans, thinking to themselves. When it was dawn, the adventurers stepped on their mounts and ran towards the hills. One of them rode together. The two of them were very short and looked similar, and they seemed to be a pair of brothers.

Uriel walked to keep up with them without any effort. They were just mortals, and even horses were not fast. It is said that the magic of mysterious creatures can stimulate mounts and stimulate potential, but no one has tried to prove it.

Maybe I shouldn't have kept up with them. The apprentice considered staying in place and waiting for the wrong Kitarian to send him out of his dream. However, he was not sure what the Ringot sisters would do when they encountered a situation. The worst possible possibility was that they informed the owner of the "Confessions" Black Knight, and Uriel felt that he had probably not had a good ending.

The magic of the high ring supports him to keep up with the war horses. It is better to follow them. After all, the destination of these people is Mortus. Uriel searches his clothes and realizes that he has not changed into new clothes. The leather armor quickly turns into a shirt and the boots return to its original appearance. He can touch the hilt of the sword with just reaching out his hand - this is the steel sword replaced in Marantino. He is still dressed when he enters Saint Valorand, and even the scroll of the vows is in his pocket. The initial outfit seems to be an illusion caused by the mix of dreams, but the apprentice still remembers the tobacco that shook off from the armband.

The adventurers stayed again by a river, preparing lunch with the chef of the same name as the apprentice. It seemed that he was just a threat before. The threats between adventurers, especially among companions, were rarely fulfilled. To be honest, their promises were the same, unless they were restricted by contract. This rest took about half an hour, and when the taciturn "flat head" Surrey stepped on the stirrups, the sun was so bright that it could heat the river.

Brestatik is located in the north of Eastman. The flame moon here seems to be the sun setting on the ground. The temperature in the morning can make people sweat, let alone noon. A layer of steam even rises on the water surface, and the light leaps, rotates, and changes in color. Between the hot air and the mist, the plains and hills are blurred. This is also the reason why Uriel did not react when the arrow broke through the air and nailed the "blackface" neck.

When he came to his senses, the battle had begun. The adventurer fell off his horse, his ankles were still hanging in stirrups. His mount ran away, and his body and bags fell on both ends, shaking as he ran. The arrows let the mounts pass and aimed at the living. The remaining five people had only time to pull the horse in the water, and they were shot down by the second wave of arrows. The two brothers' horse belly was shot through, and the mounts fell into the water with them. The blood-contaminated river water spread downstream. The "flat head" Surry was caught on his shoulder and barely grabbed the reins. The chef and "hole eyes" escaped intact. They turned their horses' heads and ran towards the road. These adventurers were originally going to cross the river.

A whistle sounded. Uriel was not unfamiliar with it. He felt that he knew the identity of the attacker. At the time in Mortus, a group of people also liked to use arrows on the plains as opening remarks.

"Catch them!" someone shouted, his voice thrusting through the fiery sunlight and hazy mist and drilling into his ears. This was obviously not to remind adventurers.

The apprentice remained silent. If he guessed correctly, interfering in the dispute would mean being exposed. He did not want to slaughter the attackers in order to save these adventurers. In fact, there was no difference at all. He had no idea about the two sides of the war, and aborting the battle was just an unnecessary move in his dream, let alone... if the Black Knight was attracted, these people would not survive no matter what.

The attackers had already rushed across the river bank. The knights were fully armed, with their guns and swords shining coldly, and they skillfully rely on the archers and formations to approach the enemy. The adventurer's escape was soon over. The chef and scout of the same name as Ulier surrendered, and the "flat head" Surry also wanted to do it, but as he tried to pull out the arrow from his shoulder, the cavalry led him cut off his head with a sword.

"Why do you do this?" the chef muttered angrily, "Sarri lowered his sword."

"He was injured." The scout replied. His face was very gloomy. Being a prisoner was not a happy thing, but if we came to the bottom of it, it would be his responsibility.

They were not in a hurry to leave. The Knight shook off the blood from the steel and turned over and dismounted. "Six adventurers." He opened his mouth with his sword, "Now there are only two left. Tell me, where are you from?" He did not see the apprentice.

"We are from Heimu County, Lord." The scout answered truthfully. At least Uriel knew that what he was saying was completely the truth.

But the Knight obviously doesn't feel so easy to believe. "What are you doing?"

"We received instructions from the leader that we must arrive at Mortus by day tomorrow." He also asked back, "Who are you?"

The Knight ignored him. "Who is your leader?"

"'Black Bee' Tahu."

"What a nameless man." The knight laughed, "Stop talking about the name, idiot! What does he do? Mercenary? Spy? Or beekeeper?"

"Mercenaries. We are all mercenaries and lords, but we have no reputation and are not worth mentioning." The scout "Dimen" told them. Although the knight's attitude was very contemptuous, he could not correct it. In fact, he knew very well that his and his companions' lives were in the hands of the people in front of him.

Chef Uriel said nothing. But his silence didn't last long. The Knight stared at him: "Where did you come from? What are you doing?"

"Come from Kuromu County, sir, we..."

The knight waved his sword and slashed his head. His head rolled on the grass, his eyes widened in surprise. Uriel was also surprised as he was. The apprentice watched the knight climb onto the horse and ordered his men to kill the scout.
Chapter completed!