The Amber Sword

The convoy appeared to be somewhat quiet, probably because of its proximity to the Chusanze River, and there were always disturbing legends in the woods nearby, not to mention that it had happened before.

Nashin glanced around and then turned back to remove the cowhide water bag from the saddlebags of the horses, unplugged the plug and drank the rest of the water from the inside. He then frowned and the water smelled a little dull, so he should be able to reach the banks of the Chusanze River by nightfall, replenishing it with new sources - if not accidents.

He touched the animal's sturdy neck, grabbed the belt of the grinder with his hand and stuffed the dry water bag back. The horse snapped his nose, an old horse with teeth for more than 20 years, and the old man chewed grass at his hands since he did this job on the long border that kept his head out of his pants belt.

Late in the day, the dusty sky was covered with a hint of mist, a few long abandoned houses hidden a corner, on a light cloud like a belt, flashing with stars, dotted with a light reddish color on the horizon.

That Singh stared in that direction, where the sun set, was a land under a black rose flag, crossing the land of the dead with a wide ocean, and there was said to be a flourishing human world.

It was three days before the sight of the western sky, the night the merchants stopped in Tomlo, everyone was drunk, and the next morning they learned of the sight of the night from the local population. Instead, he witnessed gold rain falling from the sky and falling below the western horizon.

That scene reminded him of the catastrophe that had occurred in the elderly 70 years before the stars fell from the sky, and soon after the 'weird’ appeared, they started attacking villages and towns in groups. Since then, they have been abandoned on the rose border and gradually become an unmanned wilderness.

Fortunately, if not, there is no value in the existence of those who lick blood with their knives, and the dead have flourished in this deserted area since they began to retreat west.

Because both Rosalind and Dark Moon Lords need this fragile lifeline, and if bone skeletons do not rest in eternity for a moment, they need a wide variety of materials, many people are smuggling bodies and bones, and Rosalind's lords explicitly forbid such acts, but who knows that the Salim Border Guard is the biggest smuggler.

Unfortunately, the business is about to be cut off.

Not surprisingly, Nassin looked at the faint villages in the woods. There were too many such villages on the Rosalind border. Earlier, with the invasion of the dead, humans could continue to thrive in the forest, but the emergence of those things changed everything.

Today's residents either moved back to Rosalind's sighing wall and crossed the Strait to become refugees in Kowloon or turned into a pile of white bones.

Weirds are becoming more frequent, dead spirits are retreating east of the Dead Moon Sea, and now this fragile trade route is becoming more prolonged and dangerous, and fewer and fewer people survive on this route.

“Nathan.” A middle-aged man caught up from behind on a horseback, letting himself ride in his footsteps, slowing down by the side of the singles. When the shadow covered that sin, he raised his head to look at the beholder. The man sitting on the horse's back under his flat forehead looked serious. He had two sharp and palpitating eyes on both sides of his straight nose. His eyes swept away as if he had many stories to hide. He looked full of wind cream, but his naked skin was well maintained. He was not a fatalist like them who rolled on the tip of a knife, and he seemed to be a well-nourished man.

This kind of person is usually a nobleman, or a knight from the north of Rosalind, who looks at his horse —— that's a real horse of war, not a hybrid bastard like a horse who grinds a horse, how tall the horse is to the back of his horse, tall, tall, tall, greasy, greasy and slippery, and the horse stands still, and a line of perfect muscle is like a living art in that sin.

The horse in Rosalind didn't know what kind of sky price to buy, but Sin knew it wasn't a question of money at all, because it was a typical ghost car, and only the most authentic knight from Jiufeng could use such a ride.

So he had no fear of hitting the horse, and the real fatalities might hit the nobility of Jiufeng, but he was just a cleaner, not the butchers on the black road.

The middle-aged man was wearing a thin long shirt with half a long black hair hanging over his shoulder, a fine ponytail braid tied behind his head, a black skin mask on his face, covering half his face, and a scar like an earthworm appeared on his right face with a sharp tip under the skin mask, engraved like a tattoo.

His hand in mink gloves was always caught on the reins, and his other hand was not too far from the handle of the long sword hanging from the saddle, a bronze sword swallowed by a pixie, very different from the sword pattern elsewhere in Warnd.

The horse squealed his nose under the control of the knight, spraying a thin mist from behind the cage.

The middle-aged man looked down at him and said to him, "Is there any more water? ”

Then Simbi looked at each other respectfully and replied, “The water is a little dry, is Miss Phoenix thirsty, but up ahead is the Chusanze River, Mr. Liu? ”

“The one you picked up. ”

“Is he awake? ”

That Singh asked with a little surprise.

Three days ago, after the scene, he picked it up on the avenue near Tomro, and when they found each other, the young man fell beneath a dwarf stone wall, wearing a somewhat strange coat, facing down.

Nassin knew that the place was formerly Tomorrow's farmers' avenue for sheep husbandry, but since the monsters began to ravage, the herders had migrated west of Tomorrow, leaving a deserted area where they had not known for a long time that they had not met travellers outside of their 'companionship'.

However, he concluded that most of the young man was not a scavenger. First of all, he did not look like the people in this area. His hair was not black, but a beautiful dark chestnut color. His nose beam was strong, his lips were thin and his skin was white. He was a handsome young man. He had seen the dark nobility of the dead several times, and his subconscious feelings were similar to those people, but there was no such shady smell on him.

Then the clothes on the other side, although severely worn, could be seen to be very well made, and the inner shirt dared to be silk, which surprised him. He had never heard that the cleaner was so luxurious.

“Not yet," the middle-aged shook his head and replied, "but at least there's a reaction to the outside world. Miss Phoenix is taking care of him and you'll find a way to get some water. ”

“That's impossible, Mr. Liu,” Nashin replied to God. “Only by waiting until the Chusanze River can the water be replenished. The rest of the water has been contaminated. It's nothing for us people to drink, but at first glance, the young man is from an excellent place of nourishment, and his body is weak, and he drinks the rest of the water, and he doesn't know what the problem will be. ”

The middle-aged man, known as Mr. Liu, immediately looked at the man, whom the citizens of Rosalind despised as the ‘scavenger' or ‘vulture’, who had a somewhat shaky figure and did not know whether he was forced by the wave of life or whether he was simply such a frightened character.

However, he did not despise each other's intentions. He had seen many things in many places, not those nobles who took the outside world for granted, and knew that while it was not commendable to steal the remains of the dead, sometimes survival was really more important than respect for the dead.

Some of these people are really morally depraved, working in the wild and acting like bandits, butchers on black roads, and he has heard of them. But there are also people who are really pressured to survive, and this person is obviously right in front of them.

When Nathan saved the young man, he had some surprise that he was a follower of the Blind Goddess, and that there were people of faith on the Mob who deserved more respect than those who were utterly corrupt.

That's why he didn't stop the lady when she asked to take care of the young man.

Besides, he had some curiosity about the young man's identity.

Unlike that shallow insight, he was well aware of the human kingdom opposite the Sea of the Dead Moon, Jiufeng, although blocked, was still trading intermittently with St. Osor and Eruin through the waterways of the Dark Sea.

He touched his leather gloves and suddenly remembered another thing: "Nassin, I heard you were here when you crossed the Chusanze River and had a flood? ”

That stings.

As if mentioning it, he was covered in haze on his face.

“Let me tell you something, Mr. Liu, this is a strange thing.” He swallowed a spit and replied: “You know that I am a believer in the goddess of Elaine, this bad omen has been disturbing me for a long time...”

Exactly.

This is Nassin's last job. Although not enough money has been saved, it is enough for Rosalind to live in dignity. If he wants to go back to Jiufeng, he will have to find another way. It is said that the lords of Rosalind are long ready to return to the other side of the Strait, and strangers do not float across the sea to attack the Swallow Plains.

And as for where the dead will retreat, that's not what he can care about. The news from the front line is that the twelve Dark Moon Lords are confronting the weirdos in the White Bone Wilderness, which is almost a war. Though the dead have long begun to lose, they never lose the entire battlefield - he couldn't help but think about it.

“That was then...”

Nashin said that he remembered the situation.

……