The sergeant chief of the militia training team did not lie to me, and the necessary experience can save your life at a critical moment.
If it weren’t for the training in the past month, I’m afraid I could hardly avoid the deadly sword in my sleep just now-the sudden attack caused lightning-like alertness and awakened me from my deep dream; when I opened my eyes Reflected in the sharp sword, I couldn't help but a heart-and-respiratory cold rising from the bottom of my heart—
It's really heart palpitating!
But to be honest, I don't know how I reacted. Perhaps it was an instinct developed over a long period of training. I turned my head to the side at the very moment of my life, causing the sword to pierce my ears.
It's on the verge of—
Then I saw the blooming black rose emblem of Bromanto on the cold steel long sword, which was inlaid on a square iron plate. I was stunned for a moment to distinguish this thing, "Madala's army of undead!" As if a basin of cold water poured from head to toe to make me completely awake, how can these ghosts be here
I clearly remember that I was on holiday in an old house in the countryside of Buchi. This is an estate left by my grandfather during his lifetime. I asked the old man in the family for permission to stay here temporarily and help him take care of this old house. .
My mother is from Brother Cadele, which is about the only blood in my body that is closest to a nobleman. But my father is just an ordinary miller-he is not even like my grandfather who participated in the famous November War and received the Candlelight Medal-but an honest middle-aged man.
And I, I am an ordinary young man who can be seen everywhere in the kingdom. My biggest dream is to join the army or go out to take risks and earn a big family business back.
Maybe finally find a beautiful and moving wife to spend the rest of my life with, it's perfect!
But the gossip is not to mention, the fact that there is a terrible undead next to the bed who wants to kill me makes my heart feel like a mess. Fortunately, the things that the instructor teaches are still in my mind, and I have not been thrown out of the sky because of the mess of thoughts. I thought about it for a moment, my sword should be by the bed, but the skeleton would not give me the opportunity to take the sword—now I realized that this is really not a good habit, I will remember next time Put it under the pillow.
Of course, these thoughts are only present in my plan for a moment.
I instinctively rushed outwards, and as I rolled out of the bed, I tore the boneless skeleton standing next to my bed to the ground. At this moment, I keep in mind every word the instructor said in the first actual combat class:
Remember, these lowest-ranking soldiers of Madara are driven by pure soul fire. They are slow, lacking in wisdom, and weak in strength—
But before I could finish thinking about it, a huge force surged from under me, as if what I suppressed was not a skeleton but a bull. All in all, the powerful force of Pemmon sent me flying outwards, and then slammed into a cabinet on one side. I heard my bones and my bookcase groaning|groaning, and the severe pain spread throughout my body also made me gritted my teeth, but I immediately shook my head to get rid of the dizziness—because I still remember What should I do? In my dangling vision, the skeleton has stood upright to pull the sword that was stuck in the bed.
Its movements really seemed very stiff, but how could this strength be weak
But I was about to turn around and run away, because the'guy' had already drawn out the sword and became a dangerous existence again. As for me, I ask myself that power is not its opponent, or I guess that three more are not enough for one of them—and the point is that I don’t have weapons in my hands—
My sword is separated by it, of course I believe this is just a coincidence, because skeletons are not wise.
I just ran to the door, and then couldn’t help screaming bad luck—because I saw that the door of the hall below was knocked open, and a cold moonlight spilled in. The moonlight was full of poetry, if it weren’t against it. Another words with the bones of Bai Sensen.
I noticed that Madara’s low-level existence had apparently just walked in—it was holding another stainless steel long sword in his hand, wearing Madara’s standard chain armor on the bone frame, and wearing a heavy black helmet. .
But what frustrated me the most was that it raised its head and locked me with two scarlet flames pulsating in a pair of black holes.
It looks like it sees me.
There are wolves before and tigers behind, which is not a good sign.
Dear Martha, I can't help but pray to the god in my heart. I'm only nineteen years old this year, so I can't die so unexplainably in a poor country.
By the way, I haven't confessed to my favorite woman yet. When I think of that charming young girl businessman's heartbeat, I can't help but speed up a lot. Her house is right across from me. I can't put my favorite girl in danger.
I calmed down and tried to find a way out. My mind turned sharply, and at this time the lesson of the sergeant came into my mind—
"Only when you calm down can you fight!"
This view coincides with my current situation, but I don't have a weapon at hand now, I can't fight a beast with my bare hands? Panting and leaning against the wall nervously, I looked around in a panic. Although this old house is still not a housekeeper, there is nothing in the hall that can be used as a temporary weapon.
It would be great if my grandfather was a great nobleman. I have been to the Earl of Remington’s house. In their main hall, which is five times the size of this hall, there are many shields, swords and axes hanging on the wall. A weapon worthy of the hand can be easily found there.
What's more, my swordsmanship is pretty good. This is not what I brag about. The old petty officer praised me personally, saying that among our students in this period, my swordsmanship is the best.
Even the brat from the Bresson family is not my opponent, although I have always been envious of his father who has a governor. If my dad was also a local chief, I would definitely be able to join the garrison.
Of course, it's useless to say it now. In short, there is still the previous skeleton soldier between my sword and me. Although they can't run, their walking speed is about the same as that of ordinary people, and their movements are a bit blunt, but they are only a line slower than an adult.
To be on the training ground, I bet I can play it round and round, but in such a narrow place, I rushed up to get a sword.
The two skeletons are getting closer and closer, and the sound of'kakaka' footsteps is like beating in my heart, and my own heartbeat is like thunder, throbbing.
I was at a loss-the skeleton in the bedroom came out, it paused, then turned and walked towards me quickly. I took a step back subconsciously and knocked a hard thing on my back.
Only then did I remember that there should be an oil painting on my back. This painting was handed down from my grandfather’s generation. It is said to be a family heirloom. My father refused.
My father is a stubborn old man, but I’m not the same as him. If it weren’t for this kind of thing, I would always want to sell this painting when I was dead in the future, and then buy a beautiful horse and work with the one opposite the door. The young lady of the businessman dream went on a trip to the mainland together.
But now I can't manage that much anymore, and now this heirloom is going to save my life. I turned around and grabbed the wooden frame of the painting and tore it off. At this time, I was not in the mood to worry about whether it would damage it-you know that this thing is worth at least ten gold coins, although I suspected that it was worth more. Money, because the cripple in Heijiao Lane is notoriously stingy.
Ten gold coins are a lot of wealth. The most money I have seen since I was a child is about ten silver coins.
I couldn't help taking a breath, and felt my hands tremble constantly. I want to wait a moment when I throw this painting out at the terrible undead, and slip away from it while taking care of it, and then take the sword and use my swordsmanship to break the two skeleton frames into pieces.
Of course I can do the same, but just run into the street. But I can't guarantee whether there are things like these ghosts outside, and rushing out with bare hands is completely looking for death. So I settled down and felt that it is better to be brave as a human being.
Although this is just a more idealized idea, maybe it will give me a sword regardless of anything, and then I will go to see Master Martha later.
I couldn’t help thinking, would they build a monument for me, which read—
"Poor Brando, he was obviously wrong—"
I fought a cold war, and hurriedly shook my head to throw out the terrible thought that was lingering in my mind like a ghost—boh, uh, uh, I won’t die.
Then I looked at the dusty oil painting in my hand. I really can't see what is good about this thing-are these ten gold coins? I wonder if the cripple who threw it out like this would be a pity
But the terrible undead is already in front of my eyes. I don’t have time for the ten gold coins that I’m about to lose and the opportunity to travel the mainland with the merchant lady, because I subconsciously threw the picture frame out. .
I was so accurate that the painting flew to the white Sensen bone frame almost in a straight line. That’s great, and the idiot consciously raised the sword as a crosscut. I saw that one. The gray oil painting was split into two pieces in mid-air with a'tear and pull'.
What a great strength! Fortunately, the chief sergeant did not lie about the crucial issue, as these bones really lacked wisdom.
This problem almost flashed through my mind, and people rushed out subconsciously.
The door of my bedroom is not far from me. Thanks to Master Martha, I only need to rush out a few steps to see my sword lying there quietly.
That sword is also one of my heirlooms. My grandfather used it in battle. It is said that he served as an attendant for a knight for a period of time, and this sword was bestowed on him by the knight master—
The sword should be a 32-year-old standard, with the imprint of ivy on the sword, to commemorate the victory of the Golan-Elsen Plateau battle.
I remember that that year His Majesty changed the standard of the cavalry long sword, changing the length of the sword from the original two-arm length to one and a half, and the copper ornaments on the handguards were also replaced with ordinary iron flowers. This is to save money. Cost to adapt to the prolonged "November War".
That's right, it is a cavalry sword.
Humph, just wait for me to get that sword—
"Madala bastards, it's your turn to be unlucky—"