The reason why legends were so attractive was that bards understood people's preferences and natures very well. Of course, the stories they told were all based on real historical facts. Fabricated stories had no vitality. However, bards had their own unique tricks in telling stories. The most common one was to condense a story that happened over a long period of time, or even a year, into a day or a few days, regardless of time and space.
For example, when the Abyssal Race was wreaking havoc on the earth, the living space of the various races on the earth's surface was greatly reduced. The huge underground city under the Holy Crown City was the masterpiece of the Abyssal Race. Vampires, black crows and other creatures were all remnants of the Abyssal Race.
When the intelligent races on the earth's surface were overwhelmed by the Abyssal Race, Abraham, the God of War, appeared out of nowhere and played an irreplaceable role in several decisive battles that determined the life and death of the Abyssal Race. Finally, he drove the Abyssal Race back to the underground.
In legends, the experience of Abraham, the God of War, had been completely deified. Yesterday, he had just shown his talent by leading the army to defeat the invasion of the Abyssal Race. Tomorrow, he would begin the great counterattack. It seemed that Abraham had accomplished one miracle after another in a few days, but in fact, the war between Abraham and the Abyssal Race had lasted for seventeen years!
If Léger was also qualified to be the protagonist of legends, then his act of killing Thomas, the mayor of the Tenth Town, would be described by bards as a magnificent feat, or a brilliant starting point. Then, Léger would have the power not inferior to the four castellans. Tomorrow, Han Jin's small group would become the de facto master of the Beitman.
However, in fact, the conflicts would not break out so quickly. Various forms of open strife and veiled struggle also needed a lot of time to prepare. Lang Ning had sent many messengers to the commanders and generals of Riptide with different contents. If it was the direct descendants of the Legion of Conrad, Lang Ning would focus on Léger's grief and determination. If it was the generals who were appreciated by Conrad, Lang Ning would shift the focus to the humiliation of the Knight of Conrad's remains. He would also say that a new funeral for the Knight of Conrad would be held in the near future, and he hoped that the generals would bring their people back to attend. If it was the generals who could be his enemies or friends, Lang Ning would spend a lot of time denouncing Rudolf's shamelessness and vigorously denouncing the four castellans of the Beitman for their evil politics.
As for those who were destined to be his opponents, Lang Ning was too lazy to waste his energy on them. They were no longer children. Political conflicts could not be distinguished by simple justice and evil. Just like his opponents, they would not care about what kind of person the Knight of Conrad was. They would just do what they should do.
It would take at least seven or eight days for Lang Ning's letters to be delivered to the generals. It would take them about a month to think it through and decide their position before they wrote a reply to Lang Ning. That was to say, the first step of the war would take a whole month to prepare.
Han Jin and the others were living a very happy life. In Morrisons' words, there was someone behind them! Léger was respectfully called the Young Marshal. He was definitely the uncrowned king of the Ninth Town. Morrisons often put his arm around Léger's shoulder, so there was no need for him to be afraid of anyone in the Ninth Town.
Therefore, Moxinke believed that he had the right and duty to fall into depravity. He would eat the best food and drink the best wine. As for playing with women, of course, he would choose the youngest and prettiest barmaid. Unfortunately, it often turned into a farce later on. Sylvia's sense of smell could only be described as magical. No matter how drunk Morrisons was in the bar, Sylvia would not appear. However, as long as Morrisons called the bargirls to accompany him, it would not take long for Sylvia to stand behind Morrisons coldly and make Morrisons suffer.
In fact, when it came to this kind of thing, women had their own reasons and men had their own reasons. No one was right or wrong.
After a few times, Morrisons learned his lesson. He only minded his own business and did not flirt with the bargirls.
On this day, Han Jin and Morrisons went to a bar in the town. Han Jin just came out to relax, so he went back after sitting for a while. Morrisons, on the other hand, did not have enough fun and continued to stay in the bar.
There were not many mercenaries in the Ninth Town. Most of the customers in the bar were officers from Riptide. There were not many locals. Because of the limited number of customers, the competition between the bars was very fierce, and the variety was endless.
Now, several bargirls were standing on the tables, swaying their waists and lifting their skirts from time to time to seduce the officers below. The officers made a series of strange cries and jeers.
Riptide's military discipline was very strict, but such things were not restricted by the rules. The fundamental desire of life must be vented, otherwise it would distort people's character. Those who forced others to eliminate their desires in the name of justice and justice were usually despicable and shameless. They only asked others to do what they wanted, but they never set an example.
Morrisons drank the last mouthful of ale and threw a dozen silver coins on the table. He still had to practice his sword skills tomorrow, so he should go to bed early.
At this time, an ordinary-looking middle-aged man in even more ordinary clothes stood in front of Morrisons. He smiled and said, "You're from Morrisons University, right?"
"Yes, I am. How can I help you?" Morrisons looked up and down at the man.
"Can I sit down and talk?"
"Yes, sit down." Morrisons waved his hand.
The middle-aged man sat down and said, "I heard that you're a straightforward person, so … I won't beat around the bush."
"I do like it that way." Morrisons smiled.
"Here's the thing. I have a batch of goods that need to be sent to Twelfth Town. I've been looking around the town for a while, but I couldn't find a suitable mercenary." The middle-aged man paused and said, "Can you help me? Don't worry. You don't have to worry about the commission. Just tell me. I'll satisfy your request as long as it's within my means. "
"You'll give me as much as I want? You're quite confident. "Morrisons grinned.
"Of course. You won't embarrass me on purpose, will you?" The middle-aged man smiled.
"Don't you think you should introduce yourself before we talk about business?" Morrisons said in a low voice.
"My name is Justin. I'm the head of Beitman Morgan & Co."
"Morgan & Co.?" Morrisons almost bit his tongue.
"Yes. Is there anything wrong?" Justin asked in surprise.
"Nothing." Morrisons snapped his fingers and signaled the barmaid to bring a dozen more ale. He sipped the ale and looked at Justin without saying a word.
Justin wasn't in a hurry. He just looked at Morrisons quietly.
"You want to send your goods from here to Twelfth Town, right?"
"Yes."
Morrisons thought for a moment and said, "It's more than a hundred miles away. How about this? Two hundred gold coins!"
Justin was stunned. He smiled bitterly and said, "My lord, I just want peace of mind. There are no bandits on the road. Isn't the price too high?"
"You think I care about this little bit of money?" Morrisons raised his thumb and said, "I'm just bored and want to go out for a walk. If I'm short of money, I can just ask Léger and I'll get as much as I want."
"I know, I know." Justin was a bit embarrassed. In fact, he really wanted to say yes, but the price was too high. Although Morrisons looked silly and easy to fool, he would definitely be suspicious when he sobered up.
"If you agree, we'll sign the contract. If you don't, you can sit somewhere else. Don't disturb me from watching the show!" Morrisons University said casually.
"My lord, actually … actually, you don't need to send the goods to Twelfth Town. Just send them to Merlin New Village."
"Merlin New Village? It's only about sixty miles away from Ninth Town, right? "
"Yes, yes."
"Then two hundred gold coins is indeed too high." Morrisons thought for a moment and said, "How about a hundred gold coins?"
Justin opened his mouth, but what he wanted to say turned into a bitter smile. "Well … Okay. But let me tell you first. I'll pay you one hundred gold coins. No matter how many people you ask, I can only pay you one hundred gold coins!"
"Why do I need to ask for help for such a trivial matter? Besides, one hundred gold coins is not enough to share. I can do it alone. "
"That's good, that's good." Justin took out a cloth bag from his bosom, looked around, and carefully counted out 50 gold coins. "This is your deposit. After you send the goods to Merlin Village, I'll pay you the rest of the money."
"We should sign the contract now." Morrisons rummaged through his clothes.
"It's okay, it's okay …" Justin smiled apologetically.
"No?" Morrisons was surprised. "I should at least write you a receipt, right?"
"Haha, who are you? Why would you care about such a small amount of money?! Besides, we'll have opportunities to work together in the future. "Justin smiled.
"Well … Okay."
"It's a deal." Justin stood up. "My lord, my goods will leave tomorrow morning. Where should I wait for you?"
"In such a hurry? Which gate will you leave from? "
"The south gate, of course."
"I'll wait for you at the south gate tomorrow morning." Morrisons yawned as he spoke.
"Okay, then please rest early." Justin nodded repeatedly, and then said a few more polite words before walking out of the bar.
Moxinke lazily put away all the gold coins on the table. Then he raised his glass, put one hand behind the glass, and carefully looked at his image on the glass. He murmured in a very low voice, "Great Moxinke, do you really look so silly …"
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