Vol 2 Chapter 386: Confrontation and confrontation

Chapter 386 confrontation and confrontation
As the curfew time approached, there were fewer and fewer guests in the pub, and the mercenaries of the blood whistle came to "my home" in twos and threes, and it seems that they will be drunk tonight.
Dante’s big swords went downstairs one by one. Louisa and the old hammer greeted Teres and left. Siman and McGee didn’t bother to understand what he meant and walked straight out of the pub.
When Dean went downstairs, he was stopped by the whistle.
"Hey, Dean," Ricky snapped a finger and raised his glass against the bald mercenary: "I heard that you are having trouble outside?"
This words attracted everyone's attention.
"In normal times, I might say that we are okay," Dean walked down the stone ladder step by step. It looked rather dignified: "But now... I guess it doesn't make much sense."
He glanced at two rather serious mercenaries around Ricky.

Yes,
Dean said faintly.
We have trouble.

The mercenaries in the pub are quiet, they are worried, or wondering about the ground.
Ricky frowned.
"So the rumor is true?"
"Williams and his evil dogs have started again... What is this, the second cleanup campaign? Going up with the Exeter in the north? Supporting the Freedom League? Or the King of Stars watching the Tower of the End is not pleasing to the eye. Determined to pull them out? Do you think they are likely to hire a 100-member group to fight? Or just catch the death squad in the Bone Ghost?"
Tyres listened to Ricky's description of the Baron and the Stardust Guard, and could not help but raise his eyebrows.
Obviously, the mercenaries have a limited affection for the baron of the Blades Camp.
"I don't know, but I want to say it," Dean shook his head. "They are really playing this time."
"As for hiring... I don't think they are short of the generals, Ricky."
Dean was warned and looked around at the whistle of the whistle: "Even the 'blood whistle' can't withstand the charge of the ten armed cavalry in the area, and I think they have at least a thousand rides - when When Ma is raised, they don't care which side you are standing on."
Ricky was silent for a while and looked at his friends.
"One thousand rides..."
"I will remember it - we have been very bad recently," Ricky shook his head and pointed to the bar: "What to drink? Rye? Old beer? Blood grapes? Don't tell me it is Chaka... ..."
But Dean just waved his hand and refused: "No, we have had enough experience in these few days."
Ricky put down his fingers.
"Dean, you know, if you think..." He looked at Dean seriously and tilted his mouth: "The blood whistle welcomes you at any time, we have to transfer, and here is missing a captain... maybe Higher?"
Dean spread his hand and saw that he was not the first to encounter such a dialogue: "Thank you, but... I have a captain."
Ricky smiled.
"Listen to a woman, Dean," the mercenary of the blood whistle smiled and poured a drink: "You will die in her hand one day."
The mercenaries next to each other screamed: "Maybe die on her ‘above'?

"Or 'inside'?"
The people in the entire pub laughed.
Dean just shook his head indifferently, waving goodbye to Ricky and coming to Tyres.
"Is it over?" Taylors lowered his glass and asked, looking up.
Dean sighed and nodded.
"Probably, it's not a happy team conversation, we have lost too much."
"What about you, Wyah?" the mercenary asked, "Do you have any clues about your family?"
"Probably," Teres breathed out and answered him in the same tone. "I am familiar with the environment, handle some things, and set off to find them tomorrow."
"Handling things... sounds good," Dean raised an eyebrow: "What about tonight?"
"I don't know, maybe I want to find a bed for Tampa," said Ters, glaring at Tampa: "As long as the money is enough."
Tampa happily reveals his teeth.
Dean also smiled.
"You also heard, the blood whistle wrapped the whole pub," the bald mercenary looked at the people in "My Family": "Come with me, we rented a small house nearby, which used to be a temporary team. Resident, but... at least let you live for one night."
Looking at Dean's expression, Taylor's heart moved.
His fists slowly tightened and he regained his weight.
Tyres released a smile: "It sounds good, anyway, I have nowhere to go?"
Dean raised his hand and motioned that they could go.
Tyres walked down the bar and picked up his own bag.
"Hey, Dean," Tyres shook his head at Tampa and turned back and said seriously: "Thank you."
"In order to... everything from the desert to the here."
Dean looked at him for a few seconds.
"You're welcome, I am also planning for myself," Dean looked at him, jokingly saying: "You are a nobleman, maybe quite rich, isn't it?"
Tyres smiled right.
"But before that..."
Dean frowned and looked to the other side of the pub: "How did he drink so much?"
Thales followed his gaze: the fast-tracked ropes slammed into the ground and stumbled on a table, attracting the poor eyes of the guests.
"The desert, we have encountered too much." Taylors sighed slightly.
"Yeah," Dean's brow wrinkled more and more tightly, "for a second time with the newcomers."
When the group of guests was ready to pick up their sleeves and give the fast rope an unforgettable night, Dean turned and walked to him.
"Come on, help me."
"Can't leave him here."
Taylor shrugged and followed him.
A few hours later, Tyres stood upright in the hut belonging to Dante's big sword, feeling the shackles of the hard bed, staring blankly at the moonlight outside the window.
The mercenaries’ residences are really not very good. There are four beds in a small room, clay walls, thatched roofs, and sand and dust cobwebs everywhere. The fence door is like a piece of paper, even outside the house. The simple toilets reminded Taylors of the time in the abandoned house.
But at least better than sleeping in the wild.
Ten meters away, the heavy breathing of the fast rope came from time to time, sometimes mixed with some drunkenness and nightmare.
Dean slept in another room next door, and the old hammer went to find the old guys he hadn't seen for a long time. It is estimated that he should drink the dawn. McGee has always liked to stay in the crowd. The scarce and hostile bones in the camp are rare. People have their own places, as for Louisa, according to Dean, she returned to her mother and stepfather's house.
Tyres took a deep breath.
Unbelievable, he escaped from Longyan City and passed through the Great Desert—although only a small segment of the periphery—after going through the Black Trail, the Comet, the Death Crow, and even Hunger, Lonely, Hot, Cold, Orc, and Employment. The soldiers finally came to the territory of the Star Kingdom.
He is back.
Tyres looked at the clear moonlight over the desert edge and felt the rare tranquility of the blade camp during the curfew.
The fast rope rolled over and the whole person fell to the bottom of the bed, but he still whispered something and didn't wake up.
Tyres took a sigh of relief and sat up.
In the sense of hell, Dean's breathing in his dreams is clearly audible next door.
In the darkness, he looked at the outline of the fast rope and laid a complex "K" shape on the floor. He smiled and shook his head.
This group of people is jealous.
Mercenary.
What kind of life is that?
Taylors thought about it.
The prince slowly breathed two breaths. The next second, he grabbed the bag and time of the wall and stood up lightly.
He carefully crossed the body of the fast rope, pushed the door open without making a sound, walked through the small hall that was so ruined, and pushed open another door.
In front of him, a sturdy bald man with arms around, lying on the side of the bed, his chest evenly undulating, with a slight sigh of breath.
He slept very well, not like the fast rope next door.
Tyres covered the door and walked to the man's bed.
The prince stared at him silently for a long time.
The moonlight has begun to move.
Dean’s breathing is still deep.
In the end, the face of Taylors slowly became cold.
He looked at Dean's wide back and slowly reached out.
Stretched to his waist.
Pulled out the JC dagger.
The edge of the blade exudes a slight cold, and Tyres can't help but frown.
Six years.
This sharp Yamada gave him a sharp dagger, and he has been with him for six years.
Qued, blood, dragon city, disaster, Rumba, great desert...
In six years, no matter what kind of danger, whenever Tyres reached out and touched the dagger and felt its cold and tough texture, an unreliable sense of peace came to life.
That force made him re-cuffed his teeth, hardened his shoulders, and faced all the power in front of him.
But that is self-defense, and it is a last resort to fight back and fight back.
But this time...
Just today, Tells suddenly realized that when blood flows through the edge of the dagger, the blade reveals more than just its name.
It is the essence of it - a murder weapon.
Every time, when Tyres rises his courage and determination and throws a dagger to the enemy, he will remember the feeling of using JC to take away his life for the first time: hot and slippery blood crossed the hand guard and spewed to his arm. Up, flow to his chest and shoot at his head.
However, those feelings are not as real as they are now.
How simple it is to take away a life.
I have not killed anyone. On the contrary, I have killed many people.
Tyres silently.
From the abandonment career in the Lower Town, to the assassination on King Street, and the battle of your death in the Great Desert...
But the feeling of killing, for a long time, he was deliberately ignored.
He has no choice, isn't he?
Kill, or be killed.
Tyres gently lifted the JC, narrowed his eyes, and pointed his blade at Dean's neck.
In the sense of hell, the blood in his carotid artery is so powerful and vigorous.
Taylors continued to hold the dagger, aiming at Dean's neck, with no expression.
He has no choice.
He silently told himself.
Simply smashing a thorn can deny the meaning of the other party, stripping the other party's existence, and letting the value of the other party's continued existence in the world disappear without a trace: he is gone, gone, dead, and then It won't appear anywhere, in front of anyone, at any time.
As the fast rope said: He has no thoughts, no feelings, no consciousness, nothing to keep, nothing to know.
He completely disappeared, and he has lost everything possible, everything develops, and all future.
Taylors came back and looked at the living people who were sleeping.
Just a light tap.
Everything about the other party will disappear immediately.
And the thief, he, Taylors, he can get a lot: revenge? interest? Or simply satisfied?
Or, is it the kind of unpleasantness and frustration, injury and pain that you feel from the other side after killing the other party, together with the existence of the other party, and the feeling of suffocation?
And... Calculate the pleasure of achieving a goal that is profitable after the other party is eliminated.
Or is it the kind of anti-palm control of life and death, playing with the fate of others, determining the power of power and the sense of power and dignity?
Fuck.
Tyres glared at Dean's neck and shivered slightly.
He has no choice.
He told himself for the third time.
Another necessary killing, nothing more.
Is it?
Refreshing.
Quaid's hateful face flashed past.
Pleasure.
The smile of Nunn Wang Zhizhu’s smile passed over his mind.
A sense of power?
This time, Chaman Lombard’s cold and indifferent expression appeared in front of him.
Tyres took a deep breath and moved the dagger to the best angle of puncture.
For the sake of revenge, for the pleasure of interest, for the power of the shit, the ghost of the genius is so much... just a moment, everything will be closed.
As long as you kill him, you don't have to worry about it either.
That moment.
There was a pale, fearful face in front of his eyes.
It was a face that was very long, and it was almost for a long time that Teres was forgotten.
It is Kelly.
One of the sixth house, the poor child, bravely rushed out at the last moment of his life, only to protect the little girl.
however……
Tyres shivered slightly, and he seemed to be back to that night: the Quaid smiled and cut Kelly’s neck, the child’s face was full of fear, and the murder’s face was ridiculous Disgusting satisfaction and excitement.
Fuck.
It’s the same for Quaid, just let it lightly, that kind of refreshing...
Fuck.
Another face appeared in front of you.
It was a heroic hall standing in Longyan City. He was grievously holding his arms, his face was a little proud, and he was a little squeaky, making him a very annoying little girl at first sight.
Alex Walton.
An innocent child born of sin.
After her high-pitched mouth was finally poisoned, the painful sputum and twisted cheeks were replaced.
Tyres stared blankly at Dean who was asleep, but in front of him was the cold smile of King Nunn, the sorrow of Melk's despair, the indifference of Nikola's expressionless face, the slickness of the little slicker...
Fuck.
The same is true for King Nunn, just a glass of wine, once the shame and hatred have ended, the pleasure...
Fuck.
Tyres gently closed his eyes.
Dean’s neck disappeared in front of his eyes, and the Longyan City six years ago was visible from the darkness.
Dilapidated, blazing in the shield, everywhere, mourning endless.
In such a picture, the horrible man with a cold face, the black sand grandfather coldly wears a blood-stained crown.
At his feet, the head of the king of nature rolled off the dust and fell into countless bodies in the shield, civilians, nobles, craftsmen, farmers, and white-bladed guards...
[Do not be indifferent, benevolent, don't be indifferent...]
[People like this animal, for a lot of things, will gradually get used to, such as indifference, such as some of our knowledge that we know it is inappropriate. 】
[I don’t know the smell for a long time, once you relax, get used to it, you will never feel the gap between yourself and the outside world, and you will never find your own self again - stick to it, don’t compromise, don’t compromise, don’t Let this world capture you. 】
[Hey, Missy, how did you suddenly become like this... So ‘Wu Renren’? 】
[Tucao yourself is really good... Is this not your professional strength? From the perspective you have never seen before, shock your established understanding, refresh your world view, break your misunderstanding and superficial cognition, and even be regarded as the highest dogma. It’s so ridiculous, and the way you look at it before is so unreasonable, to show yourself a new world, to discover yourself and the world’s 'useless and not knowing', and to sublimate yourself? 】
[Hey, I’ll tell you so much, I suddenly feel that I am so great. 】
[Hey, no way, I have been with me for a long time, you are stupid into a SpongeBob, it will slowly sublimate... Yes...]
[So we can go now - don't touch my head anymore, your cat is in your own home, you don't have to worry about it for free. We have donated money, so there is no need to stand in front of this donation box for five minutes. Alright? 】
【what! My exhibition - go and go! 】
Tyres slammed his eyes open!
In the silence, Tyres gasped softly, sweating and struggling.
JC is only a palm away from Dean's neck artery.
The head of the dagger was in his hand, and the tip of the blade trembled.
Fuck.
Fuck!
Time seems to have passed for a long time.
He took a strong breath and spit out slowly.
Do not.
The prince tiredly put down the dagger.
Tyres touched his wet forehead and bit the lower lip with difficulty and pain.
In the end, he put away the dagger and finally looked at Dean in his sleep.
Like a bitter believer who has suffered through great hardships, the prince turned slowly and turned to the door, his face bitter.
However, just as Tyres took the first step of leaving -
"why?"
The sound of the sudden sound made Tyres sweat!
"Why did you give up?"
Taylor closed his eyes and sighed heavily.
He turned and, in the moonlight, faintly saw Dean sitting up, leaning against the wall, staring at him coldly.
"After a knife, solve him before the enemy sees you, this is always the best choice." The bald mercenary faintly said.
He bent his leg on the edge of the bed, his right elbow on his knee, and the axe was at hand.
"or……"
"You have to catch me alive?"
Tyres looked hard at the mercenaries.
"You are awake." He was bitter.
"Otherwise? I think I should let go of my heart and give my life to you?"
Dean sneered: "Who are you?"
Tyres opened his mouth and didn't know where to start.
"I, you..."
"Or I asked a little more directly," Dean bounced the axe on the side of the bomber, his eyes sharp: "Who sent you?"
Taylor looked at him fixedly.
Struggling with his eyes.
In the end, Tyres slowly exhaled.
He put away his complex face and returned to the most indifferent expression.
"Dean, right?"
"You were rescued from the desert by Dante a few years ago and have become a member of them since then..."
Tyres looked back at Dean.

An ordinary mercenary, but both literary and literary, and far-sighted,
the prince whispered:
You are from the North, waving the axe just right, when you are on the orc, that set of smashing and swaying The action is always reminiscent of Exeter's other famous white blade guard."
Dean didn't speak, his eyes focused on the axe at hand.
The houses in the moonlight are silent, and the curfews on the streets make the surroundings quietly not like the western front, but the countryside.
"Not only that, you know a lot of orc language, and it is far from the extent that the soldiers "learn, damn, kill you" after they met them," Taylor continued. "It takes quite a long time." systematic learning."
"You still shaved your hair, it seems that you can cover up the hair color."
Dean was expressionless, and he raised his left hand and touched his head.
Taylor stared at him straight.
"Your views and reserves on national events and political situations are far from being known to a gimmick who can only travel between life and business."
"Even if Tampa is saying, it is too wasteful to be a mercenary, and even people with blood whistle want to attract you."
Tyres took a deep breath and tried hard to hear the most doubts:
"Dean, mercenary Dean, don't you think that these characteristics... are they too obvious on a person?"
The sound echoed in a small room, clearly audible.
Time seems to have been frozen.
Dean looked up and confronted Tyre's questioning eyes without shrinking.
"obvious?"
Dean's face turned out to be disdainful and angry: "Oh."
"So, who are you sending?"
He asked directly:
"Lisban? Is it the White Blade Guard?"
Taylor's eyes solidified in the air.
"Or someone else?"
In the moonlight outside the window, Dean spoke slowly and his eyes became more and more serious: "The order I received was to find me... or kill me?"
Taylors frowned deeply.
He still stared at Dean motionlessly.
"Even if McGee said it, it is wrong to follow Tomtin. He is not a good trader, and the blockade of the stars is not clear," Taylors did not answer, but whispered: "But you are still out, with mercenaries, why?"
"This is not in line with your savvy and wise."
Dean pinched his fist.
"Because you know the Freedom League and know the storm that Exeter and Longyan City are experiencing, because you are worried about your hometown and country, you just venture north, just want to confirm it?"
Dean didn't speak.
So Taylors spoke again.
"Answer me, Dean," Taylors sighed. "Are you him?"
This time, Dean slowly looked up.
"he?"
Dean faintly said: "Who?"
"You know who I am talking about."
Dean smiled.
He slowly raised his arm and pointed at Taylors.
"you."
"You are also very suspicious, aren't you?"
"A man came from the north and fell to the desert," Dean squinted his head and glanced at Tells: "It’s not a military shackle that civilians will have, and a cut. A sharp, dagger with iron."
Tyres felt that his back and waist were tight.
"Your words and deeds are very orthodox, very polite, paying attention to details. At first glance, they are well-educated people. This is also the reason why other people don't want to talk to you in the past few days - well, maybe except the fast rope, he It’s a taro that is scared by the sea.

"And you are very smart, at least the life you made up, you have to say that it is in line with your words and deeds. At first glance, it makes sense."
Dean sneered.
"But what makes me strange is that you are different from most of the nobility."
"Whether it's hot sand or cold rock, you can lie down without any obstacles and sleep easily; air dried for a few months, hard bread that can't be bitten, with a stinky smell Stewed vegetables, grilled foods, no matter how ridiculous things are, you are comfortable and swallowed, and eat it as usual."
"Like you have been used to it."
"At least, it's not like the adults I know, the castles."
"So, either the door of your family is a nouveau riche family, and it’s too late to become a big in the castle than a generation of stupid and selfish," Dean narrowed his eyes and looked solemn:
"Either your family must have someone who is based on experience or knowledge, time or experience, and he chooses to use the cruel wind cream to shape the next generation into a man, instead of using food and fences to make you fat. Breeding pigs."
Tyres does not move, listening quietly.
"And Wyatt Kasso?"
Dean laughed and looked at Tyres's eyes but it was cold: "The next time, when you tell another Northlander's name, it's best not to use the same as 'Stars and foxes' Gilbert Caso. Last name."
Tyres moved slightly.
"At that time, at the Broken Dragon Fortress, the star man came alone, with the anger of Exeter and the six grandfathers, talking and talking back and forth. When he finally signed the peace treaty, he was notorious. ""
Dean curled up his mouth.
"Sorry," Tyres shook his head in remorse: "The first time I left home, many things were suddenly encountered and some were nervous."
Dean’s eyes flashed.
"So, who are you?" he whispered.
"In the teens, but with unusual agility and sharp reaction - I suspect that it is the power of the end - the first time to face the horrible orcs, but also insist on the 'adult ritual killer' of the pants, Saika ?"
Dean bowed his head and drowned his expression in the darkness of the moonlight: "As Thomdin said, those star cavalry, are they chasing you?"
Tyres breathed slowly.
He clenched his fist and immediately lowered it.
"Listen, I didn't want to make things so complicated," the Prince of Stars unfolded his palm, using his most calm and solemn tone: "I could have found the army of the Blades Camp early and let them do it... but I don't have I am waiting for now."
Dean nodded lightly and smiled at the corner of his mouth.
"So you really don't have a small relationship with the official," the bald mercenary sneered: "But you buried your name to the present, just for me?"
Taylors did not pay attention to the other party's words.
"I just need you to answer a simple question for me, Dean." He faintly said.
Dean stared at him with interest.
"Coincident," the mercenary nodded. "Me too, Wyah."
silence.
In the suffocating silence, the two silently looked at each other in a dimly closed house.
Until Taylors spoke again.
"So, Dean," the prince of the Stars cleared his throat and finally asked the final question with seriousness:
"Are you Mora Walton?"
"The arrogant prince who escaped from Longyan City six years ago?"
Dean didn't answer, didn't act, and even had a little extra expression.
He just stared at Taylors coldly.
"You, Wyah," he whispered, raising his head and letting the moon shine on his angular features:
"I should call you Tells Comet?"
Tyres tightened his muscles.
"Let the whole Exeter move the mountain and let the dragon city change to the ground - the culprit?"
Why is it dragging more recently?
No, I am not dragging because of playing dota2!
Well, dragging it, because I was the author of "The Track of the World's Overlord", yes, it was dragged to the World of Warcraft by the Kushiro Brigade (I am not a water T! It is a guy who is a road Treatment!)...... Everyone is going to blame him. This guy is obviously a tentacle blame. He has a daily number of 30,000 to 40,000 words. On the shelf, the hundred chapters are updated on the day, which puts us back to the party and wants to die. It is still not satisfied. Trying to slow down our hand speed with the game... too hateful! Everyone remembers to crusade him! By the way, I voted for him before the crusade, so that he can't refute the soft mouth.
(End of this chapter)