The Amber Sword

Brando was somewhat surprised by the news of the death of Borg Nathan's wife, but he was hoping that the will left to him by this little nobleman would bring him an unexpected income - Eruin, some of the noblemen whose history was long, Rubog. Nai Songzu was not known for a moment. It may well be that the inherited property will be an unexpected fortune.

And Brando thought that if not, it wouldn't be mentioned specifically in the will.

But honestly, as the cripple said, the only hope now lies with the daughter who is still alive.

The lame ‘Ron' told them that the daughter of the little nobleman, Antitina, was rumored to live alone on Gray Mouse Avenue in St. Anthony's, next door to Black Pepper Lane. Over the years, one person has been very brief and rarely appeared in front of outsiders. Though it is strange for a weak woman to live alone, after all, after being a nobleman, in a highly hierarchical Eruin, the average person would not dare to insult her.

Besides, noblemen like this are not very special in Pragues, especially those who sell news for a living like a cripple. Most of the information heard is also credible.

Brando analyzed it and thought it might be true that the cripple...

Of course, more people are said to have been in Pragues than the rats on Black Pepper Lane, so often rumours are made that even dragons and wizards dare to deceive and that there is no room for this man. The young man knew that too, so he simply put a silver glittering sword around the bald guy's neck so that the sly old fox could lead the way himself.

After being taught a lesson by Redbeard Barthom, the idyllic teenagers who had been tampered with by the lame Ron finally realized that they were not ordinary characters. This led them to come down and leave the lame nest unhindered.

* * * * * * * * *

By the time the three arrived in Gray Mouse Street, it was almost dusk.

After the bronze sunlight crosses the building on one side of this ancient street, apply a thick shadow to the other side of a row of wooden buildings. Because no one came to light the roadside oil lamp, the whole street was silent in a lonely, silent darkness. Brando walked through a lonely street, and the breeze from the cloak swept through the slab blew away.

He couldn't bear to look back.

Batom in the back saw this scene, and he couldn't help but wrinkle his eyebrows and scold himself with a flaming red beard: “This is not how I came here a few years ago. ”

Gray Mouse Street is located near Cavalry Avenue today, in the St. Anthony's district, where the old site of the House of Lords is located. It belongs to the former thriving old town of Pragues and was once a wealthy neighborhood populated by aristocrats, but the city was cooled down when it was last planned, and today the streets and black pepper alleys are no different, secluded or even colder.

Because compared to the latter, there are not even hires, adventurers and prostitutes here.

But it's not as smoky as it gets.

Brando breathed dusty air and suddenly remembered one thing and said, "I think it's because of the underground cemetery. ”

“Exactly.” The lame smiled a little stubbornly and the blade on his neck made him feel a little chilled: “My lord, you may not know as much as we locals do. A strange incident occurred two years ago in the underground cemetery, in which a group of Javier monks and saints who routinely entered the cemetery to clean the tombs mysteriously disappeared after entering the cemetery, because two senior monks and a priest were involved, a matter that struck Pragues at the time. ”

“And then what? The Temple didn't get into trouble with that old guy Nagin, which I don't believe.” Barthom asked.

“Of course not, the Count pressured the Silver Wing Cavalry Corps to send a squad into the search under pressure from the Temple, but they were attacked by monsters and only one person ran out of mind.” The cripple replied.

“Damn it.” Batom muttered.

The three of them said, walking down a dark staircase under a cripple into an old apartment. These three-story wooden buildings are a bit like having severe asthma, making people squeak as soon as they step on the floor, as if the whole paediatric pavilion was shaking in the cold war and about to collapse.

Seeing such a sight, Brando couldn't help but stop and stabbed himself in the ceiling full of spider webs with a splash of light, and asked, “Cripple, what is this place? If I remember correctly, Boog. Even though Nathan has been missing for years, shouldn't he be so disappointed in his family?” He coughed as he spoke.

“His daughter moved out of her house over a year ago, as if she had been deceived.” The cripple replied.

“Aristocrats.” Batom muttered.

Brando glanced at his neck silently.

The three ended up parked in front of one of the doors at the far corner of the aisle. Brando stashed the sword and knocked on the door. He almost suspected that the sly old fox was cheating on himself again, but not long after the door was accompanied by a loud cough, a soft question came: “Who? ”

Brando turned around and asked, "Is she not feeling well? ”

“Not sure.” The cripple shook his head.

Brando thought, "Miss Antittina, I'm a friend of your father, Mr. Nathan, and I have something for you. ”

After a moment of silence behind the door, the soft girl's voice answered, “What is it? ”

Brando, take out that suicide note.

“His letter. ”

Behind the door was a gentle sound of a chair being dragged away, followed by a long hesitation, followed by a sound of footsteps and a gentle cough. The girl whispered behind the door with a little bit of anticipation: "I'm sorry, but can you send the letter in from below? ”

Brando looked at the door seams below and thought the little girl was quite alert. But if you think about the experience of a weak girl living alone over the years, you're free. He nodded and replied, “I understand...”

“Thanks.”

The letter passed through the door stitches, and there was a loud, loud sound of letter opener. Then it was a long silence, and when Brando was wondering what the other party was up to, the door opened with a squeak.

A young girl in a moon-white pajama stands behind her.

Her slender hands held the door, some asthma, but her face was quite calm, not tall enough to reach Brando's chest. The young girl had a beautiful waterfall-like dark hair that reflected the faint candlelit edges of the room like a coat of golden light - the edges of her long hair dripping down to her waist; she looked at three people outside the door with warm black eyes, a little nervous.

“My father--?” Her eyes eventually fell on Brando.

Brando nodded.

Teenage brush with thick, dense lashes hanging down.

And she thought about it, and she said, "Actually, I should have expected something. But okay, my father and mother are at least together, so I might feel better. ”

Brando was somewhat surprised by Antitina's calm, which he thought was supposed to be a weak, aristocratic lady with little ability to do things. His eyes crossed the girl's back, and the snail was not comfortable - a broken bed and a desk were displayed in the dark room, and the dim candlelight on the desk had burned a little over half, reflecting the scattered paper on the ground.

It's almost all homework.

Looks bad, just like he imagined. But this little girl is still a scholar? Brando couldn't help but think of those thick books on the desk.

“My condolences, Miss Antina.” Brando thought about it, answered.

Antitina looked up at him and coughed twice, asking, "Are you asking about the property that my father mentioned in his suicide note, sir? ”

Side by side Batom and the cripple heard in the fog of the cloud.

“Exactly.” Brando hesitated and chose to be honest - completing a task was as natural to him as entering into a deal, or vice versa, and he didn't feel ashamed to talk about it. Besides, he thinks it would be good for him and the lady to get the money.

But Antina folded the letter, and her beautiful eyebrow tipped slightly: “But I never heard my mother mention such a place. ”]

“It turns out he's in debt -” the lame seemed to hear a little bit of smell, and as soon as he talked about this old business, he was a hundred times more spirited: “Brando, you leave this to me. ”

He said with a sharp voice, glancing at Brando's face. He could tell, the old hairy boy is now a figure, especially with the tall mercenary around him. In his limited cognition, the cripple could not find a few people with such power - he could not help but compare the other with a few noble guards he knew, and the result was still that the former prevailed.

I don't know why such a person would be willing to serve Brando, but the limp can't help but be a little more cautious at this point.

“No need, cripple.” Brando waved to say no to his kindness.

“Debt repayment, scripture and justice.” The cripple answered vigorously behind him, but when he saw Brando's fingers touch the handle, he immediately shrunk his neck and swallowed the second sentence into his stomach. Just whispered: “There are rules, there are rules...”

Brando looked into the girl's clear, bright eyes, as if to recognize whether she was lying or not - some worries in the girl's eyes, but not oblique - and did not appear to be deliberately deceiving. But to leave, Brando was a little uncomfortable, and he couldn't help but frown. But to think about it, at the end of the day, he could only smile: "Forget it, it's okay. It's just a show of hands. ”

After all, Brando can't agree with the lame view, and can push people to extinction for a little bit of profit. Antina lost her parents, and now life is embarrassing. What can he do about it? Of course there is a way to limp, but if he does that, Little Roman won't bite him, especially if Freya finds out about it.

But the girl coughed, but for a moment she stood up and shook her head: "Sir, I don't need your charity. ”

Brando was stunned.

(PS: Discharged, lost six days of liquid, 4,000 oceans. Then the doctor kicked me out and said that it was Spring Festival and I was on vacation. There was no bed, so I came back for surgery in March. MD... what an evil institutional problem, comrades, take care of yourself, be careful of your diet, be regular in your breathing time, hey, tragedy is very bad, I didn't listen to the old man before, this is bad luck. It hurts like hell, and you can't eat meat for the next month or two, you can only eat porridge, God...) (to be continued, if you want to know what happened, go to www.qidian.com for more chapters, support the author, support authentic reading!)