Iron Powder and Spellcasters Chapter 502

  In the town of Oak in County Vorgne, Mikhail the lumber merchant is well known for his familiarity and braggadocio.

  However, in front of the blond mercenary's pianist companion, this round-faced fat man was set off as shy as a girl who was traveling far for the first time.

   "Drinking people." The pianist played a brisk slide, dancing towards the blond mercenary at the same table, while playing and singing:

   "Can you also give the visitor at the end of the world,

   "The author of the heroic epic,

   "The favorite color of the Muse,

   "The most beautiful long song between the mountains and the sea,

   "You poor old friends,

   "A glass of wine?

   "Because, his throat has long since dried up."

  The melody came to an end, and the words were just sung. The pianist ended the performance with a super-difficult jump followed by squats, and maintained the twisted posture at the end of the dance, waiting for the audience to applaud.

  Girard, Matthias and Mikhail looked at each other, at a loss.

  Seeing that several audience members forgot to applaud, the pianist played the ending again, urging everyone with slightly reproachful eyes.

  Siegfried covered his face and turned his head to the other side, not wanting to look at his companion any more. His originally handsome and handsome facial features twitched and deformed due to the pain.

   "These people you are talking about..." Little Ma Jiya stretched his neck and looked around, swallowed a mouthful of saliva, and asked the piano player cautiously: "Where are they all?"

   "It's right in front of you." The pianist replied proudly: "It's all me."

   After all, the pianist returned to a normal standing posture from the difficult end of the dance.

  He supported the table, wiped off the sweat from his brow, and reached out to his companion's wine glass very naturally.

  Siegfried mercilessly knocked off his friend's clutches: "This old gentleman only said to invite me to drink, but never to invite you."

   Upon hearing this, the pianist immediately looked at the old Dusak who was sitting across from his friend with begging eyes, picked up the lute, and started singing again.

   "Don't, don't, don't..." Girard hurriedly stopped the pianist—Mr. Old Mitchell is old after all, so he can't see too bad things:

   "Even if the Dusa people don't drink it themselves, they can't make the guests wake up and leave the table. I'm here to treat you tonight. You can drink as much as you want."

   "What a generous man, how can I repay him?" The piano player's eyes were a little moist, with the Hengqin on his chest: "It's not as good as me..."

   "Just drink with me." Girard insisted on holding down the pianist: "Take a break, young man."

   "Okay!" The pianist laughed.

   Without saying a word, he directly put the lute into the hand of his companion, turned around and disappeared among the noisy drinkers.

  Before the others could react, the pianist had already returned to the crowd with a stool in hand, with an extrlarge wine glass that he got from somewhere in his mouth.

  He placed the stool between his companion and the hostess, sat on it, quickly wiped the wine glass with his clothes, then solemnly put the wine glass in front of his companion with both hands, and looked at the latter eagerly.

   Siegfried sighed. After asking old Dusak with his eyes and getting permission, he picked up the wine bottle and poured wine for his friend.

   "What does the shop owner say about exchanging food and lodging for the show?" Siegfried asked casually.

   "What else can I say? I regret it." The pianist shrugged and pointed to the drinkers around him: "Look, the guests are obviously very satisfied with what they heard, but he insisted that it wasn't enough—he didn't admit it!"

   Siegfried glanced at his friend: "It's understandable."

"However, if you can't get through the back door, you can still go through the front door." The piano player said in a persuasive way: "As long as you are willing to make a little sacrifice, the proprietress will lend us the best guest room upstairs, the room with a big bathtub, There is also food…”

   "Don't even think about it." Siegfried rebuffed straight away: "You have to sacrifice yourself."

   "I want to dedicate my life." The piano player took off his hat, stroked his thinning hair, and said with a smile, "But people look down on me."

   "That's enough." Siegfried stopped pouring the wine and said coldly, "That's it."

   "Okay, okay, let's not talk about it." The piano player coaxed Siegfried to continue pouring wine for himself, with a sad expression on his face: "Then we can only go to sleep in the stable tonight."

  Hearing this, everyone else at the wine table couldn't help laughing.

   Gillard thought about it, and asked the blond man tentatively: "Young man, I know a place to go, and I need a good player like you. I don't know what you want."

  The blond mercenary who called himself "Siegfried" paused for a moment while pouring the wine, but soon returned to normal.

   "I'm sorry." The blond mercenary replied without raising his head, "I have no plans to join another war right now."

  Gillard was not disappointed, but very relieved. He smiled and asked: "Then you have something to worry about?"

   Siegfried didn't answer.

   "No, the more I think about it, the angrier I get. This stable can't sleep in vain." The piano player broke into the conversation and resolved the embarrassment.

With a smirk on his face, he encouraged his companions: "If you want me to say, the owner of the store is jealous of you, so he regretted it, and even deducted the money for tonight's performance. Why don't you go and beat him up, and we will run away after beating up." , the right is to collect money for tonight's performance. How about it?"

   "Forget it." Siegfried handed the full wine glass to his friend, and said calmly, "Don't make trouble anymore."

   "Listen, everyone." The pianist took the wine glass as if holding a rare treasure, put his mouth to the rim of the glass before the wine spilled, and took a sip.

   Then, he looked at the other tablemates, pointed his thumb at his companion, and teased: "If he could do this earlier, the two of us wouldn't be reduced to street performers."

  Girard, Mikhail, and little Maziya all laughed kindly—although the violin player wearing a flamboyant hat is a bit strange, he just has a magical power that is hard to hate.

   Siegfried on the side was very angry and wanted to laugh: "What? I was the one who made troubles and caused trouble along the way?"

"Oh? Or let everyone judge here." The violin player deliberately put on a straight face, and counted with his fingers: "Who was tricked out of Wan before he walked out of Wah? Who is in Hongchuan?" The brain was so hot that he wanted to uphold justice, but in the end he lost all his money? And who exposed his accent in the castle of the kings, so that we had to flee overnight and even sold our horses..."

   Siegfried was defeated.

  Little Matia at the other end of the wine table was dumbfounded, and even old Matia and Girard were surprised.

   "Wayne? Did you come to the new land from so far away?" Little Ma Jiya was stunned: "The visitor from the end of the world is actually true?"

"Which sentence is false?" Ma Wei seemed to have been greatly humiliated. He put down his glass, picked up the lute, and played it again: "Young friends, you may not listen to the lark's voice, but you shouldn't listen to it." Eyes of a suspicious lark."

   "I believe you are a dog." Siegfried couldn't bear it anymore, took the lute from his friend, and put it at his feet: "Stop singing."

   "Wayne is very far away." Girard asked suspiciously: "What are you two doing all the way to the new land?"

   "Fleeing." Siegfried replied without thinking.

   "Take materials." The pianist replied without thinking.

   The two who answered almost in unison stared at each other.

   After a moment of stalemate, Siegfried reluctantly changed his words: "Take materials."

  At the same time, the pianist smiled and repeated: "Take materials."

   "On the way from Vine to New Reclamation." Girard laughed dumbfounded: "Have you never given a 'confession'?"

   "Because there is no need." The pianist replied proudly.

  Siegfried is not as indifferent as his friend. Although it was just a chance meeting, the Dusak veteran in front of him made him feel quite kind during the short time they got along.

  So Siegfried rarely explained a few more words.

   "I know that 'escape' and 'collecting materials' sound ridiculous, but whether you want to believe it or not, my friends and I are not lying." Siegfried looked at old Dusak and said sincerely:

"We came to New Clearing by chance and accident. For some reason, we couldn't explain everything to others. But I can assure you that we are just a few wandering in New Clearing The unlucky traveler, without any malice or intention. I hope you will understand."

   Contrary to Siegfried's expectations, old Dusack neither became angry nor became more suspicious.

  The latter just nodded and said, "I trust you. I won't inquire about your private affairs."

   Siegfried nodded gratefully.

   "Mr., you are too easy to trust people." The pianist laughed suddenly, moved the stool to the old Dusak's side, crossed his arms, pretended to look at his companion, and analyzed solemnly:

"This guy seems to have said a lot, but he didn't say anything at all! Look at his appearance, speech, and body, he doesn't look like an ordinary person. If I were you, I would have to put him in a dungeon, Hang him up and try him harshly for three days and three nights. If the trial finds something tricky, send him to the gallows; if he doesn't find out the trick, let him stay as his son-in-law. It's just the best!"

   "That's enough, Mavi." The blond mercenary frowned and called his friend by his name, looking really a little angry.

"Oh, don't be nervous." Although the pianist didn't say anything, he moved the stool back to its original position honestly, and said with a smile: "I don't know why, this old gentleman treats you very much." Trust. Even if I exterminate my relatives and expose you, he won't pay attention—that's why I'm curious!"

  The pianist made an inviting gesture to the three people on the other side of the wine table, and asked, "Aren't you curious?"

  As soon as this remark came out, Matiya and his son and the wood merchant Mikhail also set their sights on the old Dusak.

   Girard, who became the focus of the wine table, did not do anything special.

  He stared at the young man in front of him and said bluntly: "Because you are too proud."

  The blond mercenary raised his brows, and Ma Wei, who was watching the excitement from the sidelines, was also puzzled.

Girard reminded earnestly: "Maybe you don't even realize how proud you are. You are so proud that you don't bother to tell even trivial lies. Several times, as long as you use a very simple lie, you will You can put me off, but you choose to answer with the truth instead of getting yourself into trouble.

   "So I don't think you are lying to me. Since you said that you came to the new land by accident, I would like to believe that you appeared here by chance."

  After listening to old Dusack's words, Siegfried's expression was mixed. He didn't know whether he should laugh at himself, or thank old Dusak for his understanding.

   But the pianist sitting next to him reacted more intensely than his companion.

  Hearing old Dussack's incisive comments, the pianist was stunned for a moment, and then hurriedly took out a small notebook and half of a quill from his trousers.

  Without ink, the pianist dipped in the wine in the glass and quickly wrote down what old Dussack said.

  "The lonely hero doesn't even bother to tell the smallest lie. However, at the end of the story, will he also go to ruin because of it." The pianist chanted while brushing like flying: "It's too classical!"

   And Girard looked carefully at the blond young man, seeming to remember something.

  He raised the corner of his mouth unconsciously, and said with emotion: "The last time I saw such a 'proud' person was two years ago, but now that person has..."

   Just in the middle of the conversation, old Dusac suddenly stopped, rubbing his chin, and didn't say any more.

  The pianist refused to let it go, and asked impatiently: "What happened to that person now?"

   "It's nothing." Girard smiled, and raised his glass to the blond young man: "To those who are proud—a monk once told me that arrogant people are brave to forge ahead, and proud people are reticent."

"'Arrogant people have the courage to forge ahead, but proud people do nothing'? It's so wonderful!" The piano player hugged the old Dusak's arm and asked expectantly: "The monk who said this is now in the where?"

  The pianist's reckless behavior surprised Girard a little. He pulled his arm out of the opponent's hand and sighed: "You can't see him."

   "Just tell me where he is?" The piano player swore: "I will visit him for thousands of miles."

   "Brother Rhett has been called by the Lord." Gilad pointed to the top of his head: "Go up to accompany that one."

  The pianist was so disappointed that he suddenly lost his energy. Holding his extrlarge wine glass, he took a big swig: "I can't go to that place alone."

   But soon, something else caught the piano player's attention.

   "Mr. Young." The pianist greeted Ma Jiya across the wine table: "It was you who ordered the music just now, right?"

  Little Ma Jiya made the pianist unable to come to the stage just now, but now she is sitting at the same table with the pianist, quite apologetic: "It's me."

The pianist didn't feel embarrassed, but asked curiously: "What is "The Battle of the Styx"? What is "The Battle of Blood and Mud"? What is "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth"? Is it a songbook? Why have I never heard of it?" ?”

"It's not a songbook, it's..." Little Ma Jiya immediately became excited when someone asked about his favorite things, but he stumbled for a while, and couldn't tell what the subject should be called—he never thought about it The question: "Is...is..."

   "It was originally a battle report issued by His Excellency Montagne." Old Matia replied for his son, and he simply explained: "It was adapted into a libretto by some singing poets."

"This!" Little Ma Jiya directly handed the single-print booklet of "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth" to the pianist, and enthusiastically recommended: "Although "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth" is not a battle report, it is recorded by Mr. Kai Moreland The story of escaping from the Castle of the Kings, but it's also very interesting!"

   "Thank you!" The pianist took the booklet, and took advantage of the last half of the sunset from the window and the dim light of the tavern, and buried himself in the reading in the noisy hall.

   Little Ma Jiya, who wanted to say something more, fell into embarrassment.

   "Hi!" Mikhail, a lumber merchant who hadn't had a chance to speak, waved his hand disdainfully: "What's so interesting about that thing? It was made up by Blood Wolf."

  The lumber merchant with a round body was slightly drunk, and said carelessly:

   "Escaping from the tiger's mouth? Who is the tiger? Guanting! Who is the one who escaped? Kai Moreland!

   "So the officials of Kings Castle are the bad guys? What Kai... Kai Moreland is the good guy?

   "To put it bluntly, isn't the blood wolf wanting everyone to believe it? Then he can instruct us to do it with the officials of Zhuwangbao!"

Mikhail breathed out the smell of alcohol, and hugged the little Madia next to him, as if he was imparting some great life experience, he spoke in a very strong tone—but his articulate words were very unclear: "I tell you , In fact, they are all the same thing!"

  Martia Raul wanted to push away the timber dealer in disgust: "Your Excellency Montagne is different from the traitors in the Castle of the Kings."

  But the more little Madia didn't want to hear it, the more Mikhail became more enthusiastic. He waved his arms and shouted loudly:

   "What the **** is different? It's all a pair of pants, but the crotch is opened backward!

   "This wolf, that wolf, this fort, that fort, this legion, that legion, to us, they are all the same thing.

   "In the past, the New Reclamation Legion rode and **** on our heads! From now on, the blood wolves will lead the group of Tiefeng County people to ride and **** on our heads!

   "Anyway—we—are—the one who is riding below!

   "Those **** from Tiefeng County were the ones who were riding below them before - and also -!

   "It's just—now—it's their turn to ride!"

   "Don't talk about it." Old Matiya grabbed the wood dealer with his hands like iron tongs: "Mr. Mikhail."

   "Okay, okay." Mikhail looked like a child who made a mistake, shrunk his shoulders, bent his waist, and his eyes were blurred. He nodded to old Matiya and repeated: "I won't say anything, I won't say anything."

  Old Matiya sighed and pushed Mikhail back to his seat.

  However, the next second, the lumber dealer who was still thinking about it caused trouble again.

"That's right! Dude!" The half-drunk, half-awake fat man with a round face laughed and greeted the tablemate opposite him: "You are a 'free man', and we are also 'free men'. We are the 'free men' of Vorgne County , don't know which county you are a 'free man'?"

  On the other side of the wine table, Gerald Mitchell put down his glass.

   "Me?" Old Dusac bared his two fangs with a smile: "I am a **** from Iron Peak County."

[must! win! ]

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Chapter end