Chapter 133: Over the Mountains and Rivers

This mountain area is not steep, nor is it high and steep.

It is not a dangerous place, but it can be called a difficult trek.

But the white snow on the mountain has not melted yet.

This marching route is a mountain area that the scouts have repeatedly scouted these days, which can allow the baggage team to pass.

It is said that if more people walk, there will be a road.

But obviously, not many people will rush from here, and the bushes are overgrown.

Because there is a better and faster road to Kant Territory.

What Roman wants is to stab him from the back and cut off the fat meat before Count Kant feels the pain.

Instead of walking over and punching Count Kant openly.

The first day.

Everyone tried their best and only advanced about 20 kilometers.

The snow melted, the mountain road was muddy, and the high slope was difficult to walk. Sometimes it was necessary to rely on errands and soldiers to push or pull the baggage cart, otherwise it would not be able to pull up with only the horses.

In the evening, the errands set up camp and the soldiers saved their energy.

There was no follow-up food and grass, they brought enough supplies for seven days at a time.

Not much, about 20,000 kilograms, basically all dried meat and meat pies.

The town of Sger and Kant Territory are not far apart, and the straight-line distance is only a few dozen miles. It is said to be a march, at most a long journey, there is no need to carry too much baggage, which will only slow down the marching speed.

The next day.

The marching speed dropped significantly, and only advanced more than ten kilometers.

The servants and soldiers had to wade through the snow and mud, pick up weapons and move forward, so as to reduce the burden on the baggage cart, otherwise they could not climb up.

Roman himself and his horse also began to carry the load forward.

As a qualified war knight, he has high physical fitness and can travel with a load of 100 kilograms.

At night, he checked the physical condition of the soldiers one by one.

All the soldiers swore that they had long been accustomed to this level of marching.

However, the servants had blisters on their feet.

Roman turned a blind eye.

This group of errand boys were recruited temporarily. They will only work hard for a few days. Just bear with it for now.

Patience is a virtue.

The third day.

The convoy was hundreds of meters long, and they passed the built bridge one by one and crossed the stream more than half a meter deep.

The situation was a bit bad today. The baggage carts slipped on the snow and two were damaged.

They had to transfer the supplies on them to the draft horses, errand boys and soldiers.

But today's march was very good. The soldiers were encouraged by Roman's condolences last night and advanced 20 kilometers.

Their physical strength was slowly declining, and Roman knew this.

The march was very intense. Sleeping in the ice and snow, without a good rest, fatigue would accumulate and only become more and more tired.

It can only be said that it was still within the tolerable range.

The fourth day.

They advanced nearly 20 kilometers.

Roman notified everyone to rest early in the afternoon.

Their isolated army marched straight in and stationed behind a hillside without being noticed by anyone.

No closer.

A few miles away is a barony, and the solid stone castle is located halfway up the mountain with a wide view.

If there is no cover, they will be easily exposed.

Roman didn't even let people light a fire to cook, but just eat some dried meat and bread.

The 30 scouts led by Dota formed a surveillance network in the front.

On the fifth day, after last night's rest.

Everyone's condition has recovered.

They woke up before dawn and began to eat breakfast silently. The servants packed up the baggage and tents.

At about five o'clock in the morning.

Roman ordered his men to launch an attack.

...

There are three guards on the wall of Baron Hass, and Locke is one of them.

Count Kant appointed Baron Hass to build a castle here to guard the rear of Kant's territory, so as not to be poked in the ass one day.

This strategic vision is undoubtedly long-term.

So long that for decades, this castle has never played a role.

It is very difficult to poke in the ass.

Because in this remote place, there is no enemy at all.

So the guards are symbolic and have no sense of vigilance at all.

But recently, Baron Hass has been summoned by Count Kant frequently, and he was invited to the Count's castle to discuss important matters.

This is related to the poor ravine in the lower reaches of the Bro River.

I heard that salt is produced there. Kant County also benefited from it.

The chefs in the castle are also willing to add salt, so in the past six months, Locke's taste has become heavier.

It would be great if there was endless salt!

Not only Locke thought so, but many people in the castle thought so.

Locke has been on duty for less than half a year.

Compared with other guards, his qualifications are very shallow.

He was promoted by Baron Hass through the relationship between the castle maid and his cousin.

Just stay on the city wall every day and get a better living treatment. For most people, this is a dream position.

He learned some inside information from his cousin.

For example, the Earl would organize all the conscripts in the spring, and conduct a day of training every three days to strengthen the combat effectiveness of the conscripts and prepare for war.

And his cousin would let him join in.

Locke didn't want to go to the battlefield, but his cousin persuaded him.

There were not many people in that poor mountain valley, and there were only dozens of guards. Even the salt mines had to buy slaves to mine, so it was not difficult to attack.

By then, if he could take a fancy to a peasant girl in a poor mountain valley, he could snatch her away to be his wife.

If he could not find any, he could also entrust a merchant to buy him a beautiful female slave.

After all, that was a salt-producing area.

A hard, heavy, metallic copper coin could only buy one kilogram of salt.

As long as he worked there, he would have to handle a lot of salt, and he would definitely make a fortune.

Locke was a little restless.

He was in his twenties, and he was still in the stage of fantasizing about women. There were many brothers in his family, and his father had no money to marry him a wife.

Starting a family meant that he needed a solid wooden house, a thick layer of thatch on the roof, dozens of acres of land to feed the whole family, furniture, food, firewood, and even winter clothes.

His cousin climbed into Baron Haas's bed and found him a job as a castle guard. He could get several copper coins every year just by sitting here and daydreaming. As long as he worked for three or four years, he would have the capital to start a family.

He secretly liked the girl named Laura in the village.

She was pretty and hardworking, the best girl in Doug Village.

He liked the girl, but her father, old Richard, was a stubborn old man who drove away those coveters like bees protecting honey.

He had to work in the baron's castle for three or four years before he was qualified to get married, but Laura was of marriageable age.

I heard that she was preparing to sign a marriage contract with a steward in the presence of the priest next spring.

The old bee disagreed at first - because the steward who wanted to marry Laura was definitely not a good person. His ex-wife was driven by him to spend the night in the sheepfold, and she froze to death in a winter. The body was covered with purple scars, which was shocking to see.

But later, the steward brought up the old account, claiming that old Richard had damaged a plow during spring plowing many years ago, and asked old Richard to compensate five silver coins, the price of a plowing ox. Otherwise, he would marry Laura to him.

In the judgment of the priest, Laura's father was hung up in the cold wind and whipped, with his head broken and bleeding.

Until Laura changed her mind and was willing to marry the steward, the old man was let down...

...

The winter was stagnant in the cold castle, and the mountain wind was lingering, making a shrill whistle.

Locke wrapped himself tightly in a wool blanket, covered with thick straw and wheat straw.

In his dream, he imagined that after breaking through the town of Sger, he was appreciated by Baron Haas and made a fortune. He helped old man Richard to compensate for the five silver coins, won Laura's admiration, and robbed four or five beautiful peasant girls, letting them all be his wives and give birth to children.

Until his companion woke him up and shouted his name anxiously.

Locke stood up from the haystack with sleepy eyes and found that his companion's face was terrified, and he kept pointing outside the castle in panic.

Snap!

A hand stretched out from below, and five fingers tightly grasped the battlement.

Locke was startled and lost all his sleepiness!

That was a city wall that was more than five meters, nearly six meters high!

Where did the hand come from outside the city wall?

Mountain ghost? Or a monster?

The evil legends he had heard since childhood created a storm in his brain.

After the owner of the hand climbed up the wall of the castle swiftly, Locke realized that it was just a boy with a stern expression.

One of his companions immediately realized that it was an intruder. He picked up his weapon and posed to guard the city wall, but his hands were trembling and he did not dare to attack.

It was because behind the boy, one figure after another climbed up the city wall neatly.

Another companion was so frightened that he turned around and ran away. It was not known whether it was out of fear or to report to Baron Haas. He quickly disappeared here and disappeared without a trace.

Locke stood up and looked at the group of uninvited guests blankly, as if he had not woken up from a beautiful dream.

Until the young man rushed towards him as fast as a cheetah, holding two daggers in his hands.

In an instant, the three of them crossed each other, and two puffs of blood splashed in the air.

Locke felt a chill on his neck.

He touched it and found that sticky, warm liquid kept pouring out. When he found that it was his own blood, he lost his ability to think due to lack of oxygen, and all his consciousness seemed to sink into the beautiful dream from which he had never woken up.