I weave fate in parallel time and space

Chapter 38 Hart Valentine, Died in
Hart had already driven away from the urban area of ​​the imperial capital at this moment. He did not choose to take the main road, but walked on a country path.

All the roads in this era are basically dirt roads. With so much rain these days, the roads are muddy. There are many horse-drawn carriages coming and going from the imperial capital, and the ruts make the roads bumpy and uneven.

It is better to walk this kind of path faster, the winter chill has not completely dissipated, Hart buttoned up all the buttons of his coat, pulled the collar high, and tucked the hand holding the rein into the sleeve as much as possible, but even so, at night The chill still penetrated deep into the bone marrow through the clothes.

The wilderness in the dead of night always makes people feel uneasy.

The law and order in this era is not very good, and it is not uncommon to meet robbers on the street.

But there is no way for him to choose to travel at night. If he wants to go back to his hometown, he needs to go by sea, but the latest boat is around five o'clock in the evening.

If he goes during the day, there will be no boats when he gets there, and he will have to stay at the port overnight, but he has so many things, there is absolutely no place to put them, and when he gets up the next morning, these things may be destroyed. Evacuated.

So he had to travel at night, and when he arrived at the port, it was daytime and he could catch the boat.

And the night road must be taken. Instead of taking the night road in the back, it is better to take a part of the night road at the beginning. After all, it is close to the imperial capital. No matter how bad the law and order are, those robbers and the like will restrain themselves. Dare to kill people.

While Hart was thinking, there was a rustling sound from the hedges on both sides. Through the moonlight, he could see the leaves shaking, but it was definitely not blown by the wind.

Hart's heart tightened suddenly, and he didn't dare to take a breath, so he could only let the horse walk slowly on the path.

There was silence all around, only the rumbling sound of the axle rolling over the uneven dirt road, his heart was beating as the carriage moved forward.

Suddenly, a black shadow jumped out from the hedge, and Hart's breathing stopped for an instant.

But after he took a closer look, he found that it was just a slightly bigger rabbit.

Hart's tense nerves relaxed, and he laughed at himself for being too sensitive.

He raised his head and looked forward again. At this moment, two cold muzzles were silently facing him in front of him.
Hart's expression didn't change. He let out a soft breath. Although he was always afraid of encountering robbers on the road, when this time came, he calmed down a lot. After all, he had already rehearsed it in his mind many times.

He calmly controlled the carriage to a slow stop, while the two men with guns pointed at him approached vigilantly. Their faces were covered with cloth, making it impossible to see their appearance, but they were thin and tall. a dwarf.

It seems to be very young, because the hand holding the gun is trembling slightly, it looks unskilled, and there is a little timidity in the eyes.

Seeing this, Hart already had some confidence in his heart. These two young people should not be professional robbers, but chose to rob because they couldn't survive. Such people usually only seek money, not life.

The two robbers approached Hart's carriage slowly, and when they came to him, the tall man at the head said viciously in a deliberately rough voice.

"Give me all the money and spare your life!"

Hart took out the money bag he had prepared long ago from his pocket and threw it over. A large amount of cash property was handed over to his wife and children to take away, and the cash he carried was calculated carefully.

Not too much meat pain, not too little, to anger these robbers.

The short man took the purse, and he opened it and looked through it, looking very happy.

"Brother! There's a lot of money, and the people who come out of the imperial capital are really different."

Listening to the voice makes me look younger, like a teenager at most.

The tall man also glanced at the purse, but quickly turned around, the gun still aimed at Hart, his eyes wary.

He pointed the gun at something behind Hart.

"In there, what is it?"

"Some miscellaneous things, not worth anything."

The tall man glanced at the short man, and the short man stepped forward and began to try to take off the horse's reins. Obviously, they wanted these two horses.

When Hart saw this, he was about to remind the horse that he was not very obedient to strangers, when he heard a long growl, and the horse swung its head to one side, knocking the short man to the ground.

But if it's just that, it's not a big problem. The most terrible thing is that the bandit's face mask slipped off, and Hart saw his appearance clearly.

In Britannia, felonies are basically hanged, and road robbery is one of the felonies. Therefore, road robbery is basically a desperado.

If Hart had a high probability of surviving just now, then from this moment on, he will definitely die.

After a brief silence, Hart reacted, and he immediately reached under the seat, where there was a flintlock pistol he had left in advance.

"Peng!!!"

A spark shot out of the dark night.

The two horses neighed frightened and led the carriage forward.

The tall man looked at the carriage that was gradually running away, and then at the short man who fell on the ground. He was holding the flintlock tightly in his hand, and the muzzle of the gun was still emitting faint smoke.
The two of them looked at each other, and everyone could see the fear and panic in each other's eyes.

This is their first kill.

But they didn't speak, the tall one pulled the short one up, and the two quickly fled here like frightened rabbits.

The carriage pulled the goods and ran for several kilometers before stopping. Hart just leaned on the seat and lost consciousness. His feet were entangled in the reins, otherwise he would have been thrown off by the bumps just now.

Some of the clothing on his left arm was stained red with blood, and some blood dripped down his arm.

After an unknown amount of time, Hart slowly opened his eyes, endured the severe pain, got up from his position and leaned against the cargo, he tried his best to open his eyes and looked around, and then looked at his own carriage.

He looked at his blood-stained hand in confusion.

"I'm not dead?"

"No, you are dead."

He turned his head suddenly in shock from the sudden sound coming from his ear, and the white bone mask came into view.

A bone-piercing chill also rushed straight from his tailbone to his forehead.

It was a person who didn't know whether it was a person or a ghost, wearing a black hooded robe, fluttering with the cold night wind, black smoke and dust floating around his clothes, and on his right hand, holding a A huge scythe that exudes a cold glow.

Looking at this classic appearance, how could Hart not know what the existence in front of him was.

He trembled all over and wanted to escape from here, but his feet were entangled in the reins and he couldn't leave his current position.

He stretched out in a panic to untie the rein, while the god of death on one side watched him quietly, motionless.

It also seemed that he was too flustered and couldn't untie the reins no matter what. After a while, he finally realized that he couldn't escape at all, and despair gradually occupied his heart.

He looked at the god of death, with tears in his eyes, and said in a trembling voice.

"I also have a wife and a minor child."

"Many dead people in this world are like this." The god of death said very patiently, "But this is the rule, and no one can resist the rule."

Hart's fingers trembled uncontrollably, he raised his hand, grabbed his hair, and then began to cry bitterly.

After an unknown period of time, Hart's mood gradually eased, and he raised his head to look at the god of death.

"When are you going to take me?"

"The moment you die completely." The God of Death said, "Your lungs have been punctured, and you will not be able to live."

The lungs were punctured?
Hart raised his hand suspiciously and touched his chest, and then looked at the only wound on his body: the arm was grazed by the bullet, and it didn't even stay in the arm.

"Master Reaper." Hart said with some doubts, "Did you make a mistake? There is no injury on my chest, I just scratched it."

Reaper also seemed to realize that Hart is a little too energetic now, and a human with a punctured lung can't communicate with him like this.

Under the mask, he frowned slightly and continued to ask.

"Is your name Hart Valentine?"

Hart nodded.

"Then is there anyone who walks with you and has the same name as you around here?" Death asked.

Hart shook his head, "Although my name is not so rare, it should not be such a coincidence."

"That's right, it's time, Hart Valentine."

As he spoke, he raised the sickle in his hand, as if he couldn't wait any longer, and planned to take Hart away directly.

"Wait! Wait!" Hart yelled in horror, "There must be something wrong!"

"The Book of the Dead can't make mistakes." The Grim Reaper said indifferently.

As he spoke, he raised his hand, and the Book of the Dead appeared in his hand. Then, the book opened quickly like a bird flapping its wings, and some words that only he could understand appeared.

He read the words on it.

"Hart Valentine, died of."

His face froze suddenly, his pupils narrowed slightly, and he looked at Hart in front of him in disbelief.

(End of this chapter)