Brando managed to get his mind together, but when he raised his head again he couldn't help but was slightly startled, because he saw Count Baal standing in front of him:
What does this guy want to do
"Mr. Brando?" Earl Violet put away his smile and asked seriously.
"What?" Brando asked in a bad mood.
"Although we have different opinions, our positions seem to be the same. At least I can be sure that you are not on the other side of us, are you?" Before Brando could answer, the Violet Earl continued: "Of course, we are on our own. My own method hopes that the kingdom will be on the road to rejuvenation, but there is no need to hate each other. I admit that Mr. Macaro’s approach is somewhat extreme, but he is just a mortal after all."
"What do you want to say?"
"Would you like to join our side, rather than complaining, it is better to practice yourself? I hope to see the existence of a good young man like you in our side." Baal seems to have completely forgotten the unhappiness before. , Sincerely invited.
This is in line with your usual style, Brando thought. But he shook his head and said nonsense in his heart. If it wasn't for the face of standing in the same camp, it was your turn to stand here and talk? You must know that with the help of his ginkgo leaves and Aloz, it is only a matter of minutes to keep this army-but Brando does not want to put things in extinction, he has already given it to Akane and Sandford. Macaro and Li Woods learned a lesson, but if you go further, the two sides will have to conflict. Brando is not a reckless young man who can't see the situation clearly. He knows that he is here to keep the Duke of Luen's army. Maybe the princess will be driven directly by Anlek's army commander. If it is not good, even Freya It's dangerous, let alone the future.
Since the other party wisely refrained from being confused about the Golden Apple matter, he didn't bother to mention it, but he wanted to say something to join.
What a joke.
Brando looked at the Lord Earl, who he still had some good feelings, shook his head, and replied coldly, "No," he categorically refused, but Baal was slightly taken aback by the last sentence: "You guys. You will see me soon, trust me, but not here, nor in the way you wish-"
Earl Violet listened to these words with a complicated expression, and then took a deep look at Brando.
"Let's wait and see."
He replied.
…
The real battle is ended by the senior knight students under the leadership of the preparatory-year officers. When Freya and the younger freshmen arrive, they are in fact only responsible for cleaning the battlefield. This girl was like everyone else. When she arrived at the battlefield, she saw the hedgehog-like carriage on the central forest road from a distance. A row of knights in silver armor surrounded the carriage. There were many knights around. The bodies of their companions, but even so, they did not let anyone approach the carriage and insisted that they deal with the wounds of the dead and companions themselves.
Therefore, the battlefield is clearly divided into two colors-silver and purple, each of which does not interfere. The avenue is full of corpses, and the forest is the same. Occasionally there is a screaming cry from far and near, or the screams of noble daughters and sons-in fact, the senior students in front of them did not kill everything when they passed the battlefield. People, even some deliberately, they left many seriously wounded. But in addition to the necessary liveness, all the remaining people must become cold corpses, and this job is left to the new students who clean the battlefield to complete.
Many people tremble and do not get rid of their hands, and even feel nauseous. It is much better for a young man like Freya to be promoted from the guard and militia. She just guessed the identity of the person in the carriage, and then dropped her head to concentrate on her work. Count Bakerberg's second son followed him with an iron face. He had already vomited up before, and now the young man could only retaliate feebly.
While he was holding a fir tree, he looked at Freya with admiration, thinking that she was a girl with personality.
"... Do you know who it is?" he asked with a breath.
"What?" Freya was slightly puzzled and asked back.
"carriage."
The girl from the Buche countryside looked at the carriage in doubt, her bright eyes clearly showing her incomprehension, and she shook her head.
"The emblem on the carriage is the scarab, which belongs to only one person in the kingdom."
"Yep?"
The young man looked at Freya in surprise, thinking that you don't even know this, why did you come to Wangli College? However, he immediately discovered that the other party was not pretending to be such an innocent look, so he had to shake his head and replied: "Master Lewoods, Eruin's chief court wizard."
"Ah!" The girl was taken aback.
Count Bakerberg’s second son shook his head again: “But if Master Lewoods is in the carriage, we don’t need to act. So there may be other people in the carriage, but there are not many people close to Master Lewoods. Apart from His Majesty the King who can borrow his carriage, there are only his students."
"His Royal Highness?" Freya couldn't help but stared at that side. Although she was only a country girl, she still understood this common sense.
The young man nodded.
But the two were talking, and a black horse suddenly passed them. The knight on the horse swiftly crossed the forest, but seemed to be shocked, then turned the horse's head in front and returned to the two of them-and then stopped in front of them. Freya was startled slightly, she and the young man next to her subconsciously raised her head, and then she saw the beautiful and indifferent face.
The head on the snow-white neck seems to be an exquisite work of art. Even in the north of Corcovado, it is difficult for you to see such a perfect face. The curved line of the pointed chin seems to have just walked from the scroll. The same down. It makes people think in unison that the so-called beauty of the North Kingdom, which is eulogized in the poetry of the bard, may have come out of this.
The girl's eyes seemed to be a pair of cold amethysts. The people of Northland had more or less the blood of Miner, but it was quite rare to be so pure. Her lips were pressed tightly, and the two thin sword eyebrows under the bangs of her forehead were raised slightly, and then she frowned with a little dissatisfaction, giving people a sense of unsmiling, straight, slender nose seemed to represent a girl's extreme Strong character. But at this moment, it was just a soft snort.
She looked at the two condescendingly, her eyes slowly sweeping across Freya, and then falling on the second son of Count Bakerberg.
"Your name is Freya?"
She stared at the second son of Earl Bakerberg, making the latter feel as if she was a poisonous snake in the grass locked by the sharp eyes of a falcon, chilling all over. But when Nimesis spoke, her low, cold, slightly hoarse voice was asking Freya.
"Yes, it is."
"Your riding and swordsmanship training scores are very good," Nimesis said in a deep and magnetic voice: "I've heard about you too, but if you want to achieve your wish, the best Stay away from these scumbags—" The girl rode on the horse, looked back at the young man with a look of disdain, and said bluntly.
Both of them were taken aback.
Count Bakerberg's second son frowned, and subconsciously retorted: "Sister Nimesis, what do you say—"
But before he could finish his words, he heard a soft sound of'Zheng', and then his neck was slightly cold. Just when the corner of his eyes touched the cold reflection on the sharp blade, the young man realized that Nimesis had turned over and got off his horse. The long sword was unsheathed and placed on his neck. The whole movement was done in one go, even his hands followed. He froze just as soon as he made a gesture of spreading his hands.
"Did I allow you to interrupt?" Nimesse asked coldly.
The young man was in a cold sweat behind his back, and he couldn't say a word for a while.
"What's your name?" the girl asked again.
"Sang, Sangani..."
"Senior rank."
"Ni, Nimesse-senpai, I—"
The sword in the girl's hand approached slightly and interrupted him: "Report to the sir."
The second son of Count Bakerberg swallowed and replied tremblingly: "Reporter sir, I am a second-year student, and I don’t have a senior class yet—" He hardly dared to say a word, and exhausted all his strength. Squeeze this sentence out.
Nimesis retracted her sword and scabbed it with a'clank', moving so fast that almost no one could see clearly. She turned her head and indifferently glanced at the young man who was touching her neck and cursing loudly in her heart. There was unabashed disdain in her purple eyes, but when she spoke it was an unquestionable command: "Then, soldier, I order you to shut up. —"
Then she turned her head and adjusted her hands for Freya's crooked collar because she had cleaned the battlefield before. Then she patted her on the shoulder and said softly, "Remember my words, it's no harm to you—"
Freya didn't move, she didn't know how to speak for a while.
Yes, thanks
But it's really amazing, will you become the same person as the other person? Someday. She couldn't help thinking like this.
…
"Who is that?"
When the half-elf princess turned her head, she whispered to the young man on one side. Her gaze passed through the carriage window, always on the side of the forest—the entire process of the conflict between the second son of Earl Bakerberg and Nimesis fell into the eyes of this girl. She opened the curtain with one hand and looked at the two girls in the forest with some wonder, feeling a touch of familiarity in her heart.
"Mrs. Miller's daughter, it should be said that she is related to Grand Duke Luen. She has a good talent, and she is a diehard of the royal family, and should be trusted." Sir Begning only glanced at it and replied.
Listening to the young man being stupid, the girl couldn't help but smile: "Of course I know Nimesis. She is my close friend, Bergenin, are you too tired?"
"sorry."
Begnin replied awkwardly.
"I mean the other one, do you know him," the half-elf princess asked again, "I think she is familiar—"
"That's Everton's daughter—"
A gentle voice came from outside the carriage.
Griffiy was stunned, and then a hint of surprise flashed in her pale silver eyes. She turned her head and asked in a low voice, "Overwell?"
There was a moment of silence outside the carriage.
Immediately there was a low laugh: "It is the old minister, Your Royal Highness, it seems that I am a while late."
…