Warhammer: I, Bartor Farmer

Chapter 116

The road is long, the moon is high, over the hills, and across the plains. When the distressed people return to the castle, just seeing the lights and the castle, they can't hold back and kneel on the ground, kissing the soil.

Some people were chanting Moore, some were calling Tal, some were named Alyssa, or the Lady of the Lake, and some were crying about their parents.

Roel counted the numbers, yes, the human beings at this moment are not considered human beings, they can only be described by numbers.

One of the chivalrous knights did not come back, 15 adventurers disappeared, and eight people were disabled. Although they returned, their arms and thighs probably could not be used...

Except for the 13 musketeers who are not disabled because of their personal chain armor, bayonet, musket, and fighting will, the first 50 adventurers have left the mortal world so far.

The other surviving people were all wounded. Although it was not a hindrance, it only added despair. Even if they left the war voluntarily, Roel would not say too much.

The peasants taken away by the lord have returned to the collar with the knights of the kingdom. They have just experienced the battle, and they are about to start preparing for the spring planting. The castle is quiet and scary at this moment. Just wrap up and go back to sleep.

The adventurers and chivalrous knights have vented their feelings, and have fully accepted the reality, numb and pitiful.

And Roel was dying of exhaustion. He had just treated the injured Alimara's wound, burned it with gunpowder, disinfected it, and bandaged it up again.

But he still has more tasks. For example, the territory has no lord at the moment, and he and the Jazz still need to report the situation, which is the lord's obituary.

Roel sighed and looked at Sir Nock, who was wiping his blood-stained helmet.

he said. "How about you speak later?"

Nock frowned, he naturally knew what this news meant, for a heartbroken lady to report...

Moreover, he probably had to ask if his troops could stay overnight, and Noke's expression was naturally extremely ugly.

"Mr. Roel, let's... how about we use the most traditional dueling game in Bretonnia to figure out who will speak?"

Roel asked. "what game?"

Jazz stretched out his hand, the armor was difficult to remove, he could only gesture with the armor on, and his gesture was... scissors.

"Rock-paper-scissors, even farm boys in Bretonnia can play, two wins out of three, won't you be afraid to answer?"

Roel rubbed his head. "I don't play, I'm going to say, such childish things are a waste of time."

Jazz blushed, these words made him compare. "No, for me, it's the duty of the knights, the peasants stand back!"

Roel immediately agreed. "Okay, sir, you come."

Nock's head twitched...almost missed.

But everything was fine. When they walked into the white castle and found the lady next to the lord's room on the second floor, she still hadn't fully fallen asleep.

She is wearing a lace skirt, her cheeks are as white as pearls, her figure is bumpy, and her black hair is draped over her shoulders. She can't tell that she is over 30 this year.

But even though Roel and Sir Nock had been scrubbed, there was still a lot of blood on their bodies, both orc and human.

This appearance obviously frightened the lady, her beautiful pupils trembled, and she covered her mouth at the first moment, and she was dazed for a long time before speaking. "What do you want to say?"

Sir Nock thought about it for a long time, and finally used the most traditional way.

"Ma'am, your lover is dead. He...is honored to stand on the battlefield at the last moment, but the greenskin's weapon hit his head."

"The God of the Lake bless him, the baron has returned to the goddess..."

The lady covered her cheeks, her slender fingers trembling constantly...

"Oh, my, my baby..." She leaned against the wall with tears in her eyes.

Nock wanted to leave immediately, but Roel suddenly grabbed his armor. "Sir, there is something else, isn't it?"

Nock secretly cursed in Roel's ear. "I'll let you come back next time!"

Then he immediately adjusted his posture, put his hands on his chest, and asked. "Ma'am, we and our companions still have no place to sleep. The battle has taken us too much. I suffer the same pain as you. Can you let us rest in the collar."

Nock was ready to be hit in the face by those messy things. There were many water chestnut things on the lady's dressing table.

He's seen many bereaved ladies...

But, to be honest, she was calmer than both of them thought, much calmer...

"Okay, two heroes, you can rest as long as you want."

The lady closed the door and fanned out a burst of fragrance from the room, but Roel only felt disgusted when he smelled it, and only Nock looked intoxicated.

"Oh, how good it would be for me to have such a sensible lady behind me."

Roel just felt inexplicably disgusted, he seemed to be familiar with this smell...

Soon, the two returned to the camp. They had experienced too much today. They sat in the place where they usually ate, took out some pieces of dried meat, drank wine, and chatted with each other.

But they didn't notice the movement of Shasha on the tree next to them.

"Noke, why didn't you give up on recapturing the cannon?"

When Roel asked this question, Sir Nock also looked at Roel in surprise.

"Why are you with me?"

Jazz asked back.

Roel said immediately. "If I say it, you can answer my question, okay?"

Jazz nodded, but soon Roel decided to ask him to add something. "Swear to your lady, swear to the Lady of the Lake."

Jazz retorted. "As for?"

Roel just replied earnestly. "As for."

Jazz muttered. "I swear by my heart, my deeds, and my breath. After hearing Mr. Roel's story, I will definitely tell the whole story about myself."

After hearing this, Roel spoke slowly. "That's the story of a Mr. Peasant from Bordereau, the story of gunpowder, the story of the dead..."

Jazz forgot to bite the jerky after listening to it, and he cursed loudly when the story was over. "Tmd, you still want to give me that sword, how many things will I accept, you are murdering me."

Roel took a sip of the brandy. "now you."

Jazz muttered, and then spoke slowly. "As long as I can remember, I have been fighting with peasants in the city. Although I am a nobleman, I don't have a name. This is not normal in the noble circle."

"My family has no land, no farmers to cultivate for us, only taverns and brothels, let us take care of them ourselves, we live like businessmen, and our family is all."

"Nobles don't want to have anything to do with my family, especially marriage."

"In fact, according to Bretonnian tradition, if one of the three generations of relatives is not a nobleman, the offspring will be expelled. I am lucky. My mother is a generation of down-and-out nobles. She was attracted by my unnamed father's family property and married here. "

"And the shame, the reason, I didn't know until I was 19."

"My name should be Nock Grantset..."

Granset?Granset?Roel chanted this word, only feeling familiar, and suddenly remembered, isn't this the name of the castle they are going to attack?
"You are..." Roel said, and Jazz replied immediately.

"I am a descendant of the vampires of Fort Grantset!"

(End of this chapter)