The footsteps were getting closer on the stairs.
Lin Ze was leaning against the window. The dozen or so men on horseback outside the window had dispersed. Three were guarding the front door and two were blocking the back alley.
The light of the torch illuminated the entrance of the inn, and the horses snorted and scratched restlessly on the gravel ground.
The fat woman yelled something on the first floor, and was yelled back by a rough voice.
Lin Ze looked down at the dark gray robe on his body.
Some are too eye-catching.
He reached out and pulled off the moldy thin quilt from the bed board, draped it over his shoulders, and wrapped it loosely around his upper body. He also grabbed the burlap pillowcase on the pillow, kneaded it into a scarf, and wrapped it around his neck to cover his collar.
Under the light of the oil lamp, he looked like a homeless man wearing a ragged quilt.
The door panel was banged loudly.
"People inside, open the door!"
Lin Ze didn't move.
He stepped on the floor with his bare feet and counted with bated breath.
One, two, three--
The door latch was made of wood, and the door panel was kicked open and hit the wall, with wood chips falling to the ground.
Two men rushed in, holding wood knives and iron forks in their hands. They were wrapped in leather armor and coarse cloth blouses. They had a crooked cross drawn with white ash on their chests.
Lin Ze stood by the window, wrapped in a thin quilt, looking at them blankly, and muttered something vaguely, "What's wrong? It's so late at night..."
The two men looked at each other, and one of them came closer with a torch to shine on him.
"Black hair... black hair." The one holding the torch said to the other.
"Where's the face? Look at the face clearly!" Another head poked through the door.
Lin Ze shrank his face into the pillowcase and scarf and turned sideways, leaving only half of his outline exposed.
The light of the torch flickered on his face, and the outline of the eastern face was not so obvious in the dimness, but seemed to be mostly swallowed up by the shadow.
The torch bearer passed the torch forward.
"Look up!"
The iron fork directly hit Lin Ze's chin, and the cold iron teeth pressed against his Adam's apple, picking it up.
Lin Ze raised his face.
The firelight shone on his face.
The three witch hunters were stunned at the same time.
This face is different from what they imagined.
There is no beard, cheekbones are smooth, and eyebrows are thick and dark, but the outline of the facial features appears soft under the light.
"Why do you look like a girl?" the man holding the fork muttered.
"Have you ever seen a girl who looks like this?" the one holding the torch yelled back.
"Stop talking nonsense, take it down and let the captain recognize it."
The iron fork moved from Lin Ze's chin to his lower back, supporting him as he walked in front.
Lin Ze walked obediently, wrapped in a thin quilt, like an unlucky tenant who was pulled out of bed in the middle of the night.
The stairs were narrow, so the three of them walked in front and he walked in a group.
The iron fork was still pressed against his lower back. It didn't hurt him deeply even though there was a layer of quilt between them, but he still cooperated and staggered two steps.
"Be careful, don't throw someone down." The one holding the torch turned back and glared at his companion, "The captain said he would live."
Lin Ze wrote this sentence silently in his heart.
The first floor of the inn.
The fat woman huddled behind the counter, holding a handful of coins in her hand and following them with her eyes.
The same farmers who were drinking before were still sitting on several long tables. At this time, they all put down their glasses and huddled in the corner to watch the fun.
The main door was wide open, half of the dozen witch hunters came in, and the rest led their horses outside.
The leader was a short and stocky man, wearing half armor, his hair was shaved close to his scalp, three fingers were missing from his left hand, and he held a pipe between the remaining two.
He saw Lin Ze being escorted down and glanced up and down.
"That's him?"
"Black hair, oriental face, just like what the messenger said." The one holding the torch pushed Lin Ze forward.
The short and stocky man switched the pipe from his left hand to his right hand and circled Lin Ze, his boots making a dull sound on the wooden floor.
"Where are you from?" he asked.
"East." Lin Ze said.
"The east side is getting bigger."
"Far to the east."
The short and stocky man stopped and stared at his face for a while.
"You can speak our language, but your accent is a bit strange."
He banged his pipe in the palm of his hand and asked, "What are you doing here?"
"Businessmen travel all over the country."
"What's the business?"
"It involves leather goods, medicinal materials, and everything."
"Who are you?" Lin Ze asked.
"Hey, kid, look out, we are witch hunters." A short man on the side said gruffly.
The stocky man snorted and winked at the person holding the torch.
The person holding the torch immediately stepped forward, ripped off the thin quilt from Lin Ze's body, and pulled off the pillowcase and scarf around his neck.
The collar of the robe is exposed. It is made of dark gray wool blend. There is a very small line of words embroidered on the inside of the collar, which is the brand logo of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.
The short and stocky man took a closer look, and the expression on his face changed.
He took half a step back and subconsciously touched the hilt of the short sword hanging at his waist with his right hand.
The air in the inn became tense with his movements.
The witch hunters reacted quickly.
The two who were blocking the door had woodcutters across them, the two who had not yet come down the stairs had iron forks across in front of them, and the three people behind the short and sturdy man pulled out daggers and daggers at the same time.
Lin Ze stood in the middle of the encirclement, being stared at by more than a dozen pairs of eyes.
He looked down at the exposed robe he was wearing.
"Don't be nervous." He raised his hands and spread them out, "I'm really in business."
The short and stocky man ignored him and winked to the left and right.
"Tie them up and take them back."
The two witch hunters closest to Lin Ze pressed forward from the left and right, one twisted his arm, and the other touched his waist.
Lin Ze didn't move.
He is waiting.
Just when the fingers of the witch hunter on the left were about to touch his belt, a loud noise came from the direction of the back kitchen of the inn.
There was a bang, like a whole stack of iron pots falling from the shelf.
Everyone turned their heads towards the source of the sound.
Lin Ze Taking advantage of this moment of turning his head, he pushed hard with his feet, slid half a step to the side, and tapped his right index finger forward like lightning.
"Confringo"
Nonverbal Wandless Magic.
The spell flew out against the ground and hit the kitchen door frame.
The wooden door frame exploded into pieces, and the broken wood mixed with pots and pans flew toward the front hall. People subconsciously raised their hands to cover their faces.
The witch hunter reacted quickly, and three tough guys rushed forward, waving the long knives in their hands to attack Lin Ze.
Lin Ze kicked the witch hunter at the front in the chest.
The moment he kicked out, dragon scales appeared on his legs. The witch hunter at the front seemed to have been hit by a sledgehammer. He flew backwards and hit the two people behind. They flew backward together and knocked over the long table. The wine bottles and cups on the table shattered on the ground.
The landlady screamed and got under the bar.
The two men guarding the door wielded wood knives and iron forks and struck at Lin Ze at the same time.
Lin Ze ducked down to avoid the woodcutter, grabbed the wooden handle of the iron fork with his left hand, and moved it toward his arms, staggering the person holding the fork.