Othua's War Banner

Chapter 315 0314: The woman who drinks Gao Ling wine
There are many kinds of embarrassment.

The nobles in southern Xinjiang have no experience in dealing with this kind of problem.

He used his last self-cultivation to pick up his pride, and left embarrassingly with the sulk in his chest.

The tavernkeeper stuck his arms out.

Everyone likes to hear such embarrassing things on weekdays, but in the boiling night of Ambera Ice Harbor, all customers are paying attention to the woman sitting in the middle of the bar.

She instantly became the focus of the audience.

More than half of the discussion in the tavern focused on her, and everyone lowered their volume, thinking about how to impress the savior.

Looking at the impatient traders around him, the boss shook his head calmly.

He called the waiter who was running errands next to him, nudged the bar with his chin, recalled the berries in the empty glass just now, and ordered:
"Reserve the captain...just...Gao Lingjiu."

The bartender received the order, wiped off the water stains in his hands, tidied up, returned to the back of the bar, and found the corresponding base wine in the middle of the wine rack.

Rumant feels awful.

He withstood the pressure, and under the supervision of many vendors and his own boss, he completed a simple bartending job, and then served it to the woman respectfully.

"Thank you."

She made her voice a second time.

The bartender's legs trembled, and he held the table to cover it up.

Hearing this sudden thanks, he was a little apprehensive and a little nervous.

He nodded and bowed, then retreated into the corner.

The bartender leaves the meeting point of sight and hides in the shadows to peek at the customer in front of him:
Her turban is tied with a sailor knot, covering her dark blonde hair, her skin is a very healthy wheat color, and she can also see light scars.

The woman sat on the high stool with her legs crossed, staring at the drink in front of her.

She seemed to be very tired, her lips were slightly parted, and all eyes were on her back. The light armor on her body was brand new and slim, but it was not expensive. The inner lining was as white as snow. Wearing it on this body that had been through many storms, she seemed to be wearing it. An indescribable taste.

jingle bell~
The door of the tavern was pushed open.

The cold wind came in, reactivating the noisy crowd, and the mercenaries who wanted to complain quickly fell silent again before they got angry.

The bartender's snooping was also interrupted by this sudden voice.

He continued to wipe the rim of the glass with the white cloth in his hand, and then, like everyone else in the tavern, he looked at the guests who had just entered.

People from southern Xinjiang.

A tall and straight mercenary.

The opponent was wearing a cloak with a raised back, obviously carrying a heavy weapon.

Ken took off the object that covered the wind and snow, and he hung the damaged wolf-head mask between his waist and crotch.

This was the sixth pub he had broken into tonight.

He stood at the door and looked around, then found his target.

The bartender looked at this strange Southern Xinjiang mercenary, walking steadily and purposefully to the bar.

The wooden door slammed shut behind him.

Isolate the wind and snow, and also cut off all the discussions in the room.

The mercenary exclaimed, causing several pairs of eyes that hadn't noticed him to look at him, expressing doubts about his appearance.

Ken pulled back the bar stool next to the woman.

"What would you like to drink?" the bartender asked
Desperately wiping the table in front of him, he blinked repeatedly and twitched his jaw, beckoning the newcomer to pick a suitable seat again.

Ken directly unloaded the tomahawk and left it in the center of the bar.

The huge weight held back all the persuasive words of the bartender, and even the female captain's drink was knocked out of ripples.

The bartender waited in trepidation.

Ken didn't go to talk to the woman next to him, and he didn't even look at the menu on the wall. Instead, he called out the drink he wanted with the recipe in his memory.

"Ulan, bring two slices of vanilla and half a lemon."

Ken spoke very skillfully, as if he was talking about the fermented wine that he often drank.

The bartender nodded.

When he turned around, he suddenly found:
The female captain actually sat up again, as if she had just woken up, but her eyes were definitely filled with anger.

That's right.

The bartender recognizes the emotion.

"Wait a moment," Ken called to stop the other party at this time, and added. "I want to serve it in a beer glass made of oak. It's not bad for money. It's more enjoyable to drink like this."

The female captain clenched her fists.

She turned around slowly, staring at the strange mercenary in front of her, her eyes turned red, but this kind of tears did not show weakness at all, instead it was the product of some kind of pain mixed with killing intent.

"Who taught you and where is he?"

The female captain said the third sentence.

Ken was very calm, or rather heavy. He took a deep breath slowly and said:

"I have simulated countless encounter scenes in my mind, imagining what kind of woman you are, or can... can not have such a big reaction..."

"answer me!"

The female captain drew a short dagger from her leg.

Ken didn't even frown.

He watched from the corner of his eye as the blade brushed against his hair, then flipped through the opponent's fingers, and finally stuck it back to his neck.

He felt something cold stick to his skin.

Immediately afterwards, there was a sharp pain in his cheek.

He seems to be able to imagine:

A red line is slowly appearing there and bleeding slowly.

"Dead, at noon the day before yesterday."

Ken spoke calmly.

The heaviness in his heart cannot be expressed in words.

The female captain next to her also frowned, closed her eyes in pain, and then shed two crystal clear tears from the corners of her eyes.

Ken turned his head to look at each other.

When he moved, there were obvious blood streaks on his neck from the dagger.

The blood is touching the blade, like a traveler who is about to freeze to death, and is still warming the hare with his body.

Ken doesn't comfort people.

The other party does not need comfort.

Although the female captain's face was in pain, there were no tears left. Those two teardrops seemed to be all the reserves in her body.

The man is not used to crying.

"Who did it?"

The female captain is questioning.

Her voice was calm and powerful, she drew back the knife casually, and threw two packs of simply packaged potions from her bosom.

"died."

Ken's answers were always unsatisfactory.

He stared at the female captain, trying to find something on her face, but all he could see was regret and remorse.

"do you know……"

She picked up the wine, drank half a sip, and put it back on the table.

"I just disembarked yesterday. I received the letter. He was going to do the last business, and I was going to run alone for the last time. We have a farm at Cape Spelle, which should have been our burial place."

Ken listened in silence.

This last regret seems to be an arrangement of fate.

He also has no way to revive Rooney.

The way he ordered wine just now was reproduced from his own memory.

Remarks can keep the things you have seen intact, those information, those people, those things that happened alive.

Even if you die, it will always be kept in your mind.

Ken can recall many details in his life, which is a very convenient ability, but at the same time, it also brings unimaginable pain to ordinary people.

Time can't heal the pain.

At least……

Can't grind him down.

(End of this chapter)