We finished our meal peacefully. A meal reminds me of a meal I ate with my father a long time ago; a bittersweet night, a real drink, a respectful sip on the old man’s pipe—in his father’s eyes, this The boy is now a man.
"You mean..." I asked later, "My last practice?"
Blackin smiled, and this was the first truly warm smile I saw on that face. Although there is still no special expression on his face, he is honest enough.
"Put the dagger on the table, boy, you don't need it. Come on..."
The walk took a long time this time, and the conversation was as short as usual. We came to a door with torches on both sides. I go through this door dozens of times every day, always wondering why this is the only door in the cave that is painted red. So far, I have seen most of the rooms provided by this mountain, except for this one. Unusually, Buhler really was not so indifferent to this door, with an almost worried expression on his face. I now know without a doubt that there is something special hidden behind this red forest, and I can't wait to see it.
With a screaming hinge, Bühler really opened the door. There was no barbed wire through it, no steam, no gorgeous training room, only the shaky spiral staircase and icy airflow.
This staircase is a narrow iron structure that rotates downwards. Bregen led the way, and as I went downstairs, I stared at another window cut out of the rock: a circular hole. There were no glass windows to block the weather in the bay. Sure enough, the wind mixed with snow and sleet came in.
When I was approaching the top of the stairs, I stopped to let the sleet melt on my tongue.
"You can get out of here in a jet plane!" I shouted in the strong wind. "I bet you can!"
"Jet?" shouted loudly in the cold wind.
"It's ok."
The scenery outside the window is picturesque, the stunning Alps, the white peaks rise above the horizon, and the valleys are covered with thick snow.
"Winter is here!" the host announced, walking down the last few steps of the spiral staircase.
Immediately afterwards, my attention was attracted by the heat from my shoulders. I turned around, panting in horror and awe. The stick is stroking the head of a dragon. Curled up like a pet, this creature is the size of four London buses and the same red. Its lizard-like skin is covered with a layer of scales with sharp edges; its tail turns around the body several times, and finally becomes a lethal jagged tip; its hot breath emits uncomfortable heat, I am glad it is still sleeping.
"Damn!" I cried. "It's a dragon!"
"Yes. Come closer. Come on!"
I staggered closer, and my feet suddenly sank into thick silt—a puddle of clear mucus came out of the dragon's nostrils, overflowed my ankles, and covered the surface of the mountain.
"She has a cold," Bullegen said. "The poor little guy needs a hot drink."
Her name is Stomach. Her wings wither in winter, and she stays with me until spring. She was asleep most of the time, but when she woke up, we had a damn good time-she was a hopeless gambler. "
"It... talked to you?" I stammered at its giant claws, "You talk to a dragon?"
"She is talking," he answered with a grin. "Dragon is the smartest animal, child, has a say in everything!"
The wind whizzed past my back, and I had to shout out my next question-"Do I have to fight this dragon?"? Is this your last practice?"
"Suicide by cutting abdomen?" He smiled. "Don't be stupid! The dragon is the ultimate predator-her fart can make you fall into a coma! Unfortunately, their skills make them a trophy, and they are now an endangered group. If you want to be a saint, go Kill a dragon!"
"I do not understand... ... "
"St. Leonard-they all made saints to slay dragons! The superstitious hierarchy of heaven hates all kinds of snakes! I hate them! But I would rather die than let them use that dirty hypocrite My hand touches this!"
"Why are you showing this to me?" I said nervously. "What do you want me to do here?"
"When you leave hell," he said while stroking the head of the dozing lizard. "Amputated suicide will be the first person to greet you in a unique place on earth.". I will arrange for her to send you and your luggage to the waiting plain. She has smelled the smell of your old clothes. "
"You are very confident. Do you expect me to do all this?"
"Of course!" he said, insulted. "I trained you, didn't I! Now... Tell me about your last practice."
Bühler stopped stroking his abdomen and trudged through the mud. He walked past me and walked towards a huge stone wall, a long thin chain hanging from the ceiling.
"That chain," he growled, pointing at it with his thumb. "I want you to pull it hard!"
"My last practice?" I asked.
"Zipper!" he replied, very grumpy. "Everything will become clear, boy. Come on."
I hesitated, piercing through the slime, past the stick, and came to the chain. It goes against the wind, enticing anyone to pull it.
"Little American Dust! Pull it hard!"
My shoulders are close to my ears. I screamed and expressed my doubts, but I had no choice, so I held the chain tightly with my hands, closed my eyes, and concentrated on keeping alive. She will give me the best advice.
"Go on!" Bühler really yelled, breaking any hope that I could establish contact with Missy. "Go on! Pull!"
I opened my heart to accept the worst thing, even embraced it, I tasted the last bite of sleet, and then pulled the chain hard.
I didn't cut myself to wash me out in a flame, but like an old James Bond movie, the rock wall started to stand up piece by piece. Bühler really grinned when the stone slab rose and rubble fell on it. Six feet later, it stopped suddenly, revealing another secret behind it.
"What is this..." I muttered, squinting at a gloomy bay where there was something unusual, a person I never thought I would see again—a prisoner—a man. "Who is he?" I asked, squinting at him.
"Look again, little dust! Go on! Get closer!"
There is a thick chain on the man's arm, his eyes are closed, but the grunt tells me that he is still alive.
"Impossible," I whispered, looking over his wounds and dripping blood. "No... Kate?!"
He also wears a tarp. This is not the last time I saw the samurai two years ago. He hangs here like a circus vaudeville show, depriving him of strength, dignity, sword, soul and honor.
""What did you do to him? what have you done? He is a giant. You smashed a giant. "
My master can no longer control his good behavior. "You mean giants?!" he yelled, his voice retorted. "Giant?! Soon after your poor ass fell under my stairs, I caught a giant sneaking into my room... He broke my spear and almost broke my neck !"
One night, I recalled Bühler's scary scarred forehead, and I could hardly imagine the cruelty of their tears.
"Trying to assassinate me!" he roared. "In my own house!"
My sympathy for Kate quickly turned into hostility to the Centaur, "Nonsense!" I argued. "You are totally wrong!"
"He is a cold-blooded killer, a jealous wizard ordered my life! Scarfel! This is the poorest trash ever to take the unique earth! Your giant naively thinks that a wizard can satisfy him. Wish! That desperate yellow fool!"
"How can you know so much?" I asked unconvincedly. "How can you do this?!"
"I'm there!" he said. "When you see my spots, stare straight at me!"
I recalled the scene in the woods that day. I was lying on the mud with a dead horse by my side, and Scarfel’s pig army surrounded me. I saw what I thought was a stag or a pony, and watched the sprawl between the tree trunks.
"Why don't you help us? We need your help!"
"I'm here to greet you, child, not to kill the wizard for you. Actually, I really want to know who I am training, and it's also fun to see how self-willed attitude makes you blamed! I have to use Suck back the damn laughter."
The stick stomped through the dragon's nose and came to the bay to meet me.
"Wake up, yellow guy!" he yelled, punching Kate in the stomach. "Wake up! Wake up!"
I grabbed Bühlerkin's furry forearm, and he stopped. ● Come. "Fear of my fist," he said, "you will lock yourself in the room so that Kate will get this honor." He got rid of my hand and pushed me out of the water. "A very strong man is Kate-a very skilled killer, no doubt. You can only dream of reaching his level! Yes, I admit that I like to beat this assassin into a mess; after waking up... ... She would like to chew him into pieces."
Kate recovered, and I saw his swollen face was covered with fresh wounds and old bruises. He didn't seem to notice what happened, he didn't recognize me or the new me in front of him. A calm and clear intuition told me what to do next.
"Let him fight," I said bluntly. "Untie the chain and let him go."
The centaur's forehead bends upwards, his round eyes squinted at me. "Did you just give me an order? I heard it right? Because if you do...I might as well pee my pants!"
I saw his firm, serious, and fearless eyes. "Kate is leaving here. We are all, and you will not stop us." (End of this chapter)