Tonight, Charimir didn't sleep well at all.
He didn't know why, but he always had an uneasy feeling lingering in his heart.
Are you worried about Her Royal Highness the Duchess being blamed?
Or a rebellion by his subordinates?
Charimir Can't tell.
But there is such a strange feeling in my heart.
Tossing and turning on the floor, Charimir really couldn't sleep.
Helpless, he had to get up.
The armor made a clanging sound.
Even when he fell asleep, he did not take off his armor. This was a habit he had developed over the years.
Charimir sighed.
Since I've been feeling restless, I might as well go out for a walk.
Thinking of this, he got out of the tent, and the cold wind blew in his face. His troubled thoughts became much quieter, and Charimir instantly felt that his brain was awake.
It feels so peaceful.
Let alone the chirping of mosquitoes and birds, there was not even a sound of human beings.
Wait...
Charimir instantly broke out in a cold sweat.
Quiet, too quiet.
Even if he doesn't allow his men to light fires, it's impossible for the sentries he arranges to make no sound at all, and it's also impossible for the patrols to move around without the sound of armor clashing and footsteps.
But now, the camp is as quiet as a cemetery.
Just then...
A clear sound sounded behind him.
It was the sound of branches falling to the ground being trampled.
If this sound were heard during the day, no one would notice it at all.
But in this silent night, it was too clear and too abrupt.
The consciousness developed through years of training allowed Charimir to instinctively pull out the long sword from his waist and swing it behind him.
But the sword in his hand failed to hit the target, and instead, blood blossomed in the air.
A severed arm holding a long sword flew out and fell into the grass.
Only then did the severe pain come.
He was hit hard in the abdomen, Charimir fell backwards, his remaining left arm was stepped on, and a sharp sword was held around his neck.
Through the blurry moonlight, Charimir could see clearly at this moment that the person standing in front of him had a pair of shining cat eyes.
Lynn did not kill Charimir directly, but tied him up, stopped the bleeding and bandaged him.
This guy can't die at least yet.
Lynn Although I don't know this man, judging from the position of his tent in the camp and his gorgeous armor that is different from ordinary soldiers, this man is probably the leader of this group of principality soldiers.
Since he is the team leader, he must know a lot of information.
He has to live until the information from his mouth is pried out.
Regarding this point, Charimir himself is obviously aware of this.
Logically speaking, wars in this era should be more merciful to nobles.
Unless you are unlucky and burp directly on the battlefield.
Otherwise, as long as you can survive, you can probably save your life even if you are captured.
Because the noble families have money, even the lowest nobles - knights, can find ways to scrape the people's fat from the three-foot territory and collect a ransom.
Therefore, nobles in this world usually do not anger each other as long as they are captured.
But Charimir is different.
When Lynn was bandaging his wounds, he was unable to fight back effectively because his hands and feet were tied.
But his mouth was not idle.
He kept yelling and swearing.
At first Lynn thought it was a dog barking, but the barking became too much and it annoyed him, so he just slapped it away with a big mouth.
He exerted a little more energy this time.
This slap knocked out several of Charimir's teeth, made his mouth full of blood, and made the child wet.
After bandaging Charimir, Lynn stood up, looked at him and sneered, "If you really want to die, just bite your tongue. If you are afraid of death, just say a few words. Don't think of irritating me and killing you with a sword. If you really piss me off, be careful. I will make you into a jelly. It will take you a long time to die."
On the other side, Gerd dragged the bodies of the dead soldiers together.
About to set it on fire.
Suddenly, he keenly noticed that just when he turned his head because of the movement at Lynn, a "corpse" secretly crawled out from the pile of corpses in front of him.
Gerd Without thinking, he subconsciously threw out the short knife.
Tsk!
The short knife stabbed hard into the ground in front of the "corpse", scaring the other party to the point of kneeling on the ground.
"Don't kill me, don't kill me! Spare your life, my lord!"
Gerd could hear the unique archipelago accent in the other party's Common Speech, and couldn't help frowning. "Are you from Skellige? How come you hang out with this group of people?"
"Sir, they coerced me. If I had not obeyed, I would have died in their hands."
"How much did they pay you?"
The guide rolled his eyes and stammered, "No..."
Gerd glanced at the guide, and then became more severe.
"You don't have to argue anymore. None of us are fools. You said you were coerced by the knights of Duchy of the Curved Coast. Then how come there are no signs of rope binding on your neck, hands and feet?"
The guide's face instantly turned pale.
"I... I..."
"If you recruit me honestly, I won't be able to let you live, but if you still try to deceive me, then your fate will be the same as the corpse here!"
Gerd took a step forward, picked up the other party's collar, and lifted the latter from the ground.
"Sir, don't kill me, I said... I said..."
The guide swallowed and stuttered.
"I owed a lot of money in Blaviken's tavern, and then they found me and claimed that they could help me pay off all my gambling debts, and they could also give me another sum of money, as long as... as long as I guide them..."
"But you two adults, I have never killed anyone from beginning to end. I can swear to the goddess Freya."
Gerd let go of his hand and let the opponent fall back to the ground.
"When the owner and waiter of the country tavern on Great Skellige Island were killed, were you present?"
"I..."
"You are also a Skellige person. The blood of Hemdall is flowing in your body. When you see your compatriots refusing to die, don't you have any reaction at all?"
The guide lowered his head.
Dare not answer.
He even dared not look directly into Gerd's eyes.
Pfft--
The guide said nothing and fell straight to the ground.
The deep wound from shoulder to chest almost split him in half.
The guide never thought that Gerd would kill him.
In a bard's poem, shouldn't a positive character give an insignificant pawn like him a chance to change his ways?
How could it be...
Gerd threw the guide's body back into the pile of corpses, set it on fire, and then returned to Lynn's side.
Lynn's intimidation just now was very effective. Although Charimir still refused to cooperate, he finally did not dare to say anything more.