Angola understood. He wanted to laugh but did not dare. He could only rub the tip of his nose with his fingers to cover his slightly curled lips.
However, Dyson still saw it. He glared and did not shout, but his voice still had a strong deterrent effect. "Don't play these little tricks. I'll keep an eye on you. Don't even think about slacking off! From tomorrow onwards, any slack will get you whipped. My left hand is as good as my right hand! "
"Alright, we'll talk about tomorrow tomorrow. Let the children eat first. Come with me, Dyson. I'll give you a prescription. "
The old man led Dyson to the tower. When they were far away from the hall, he asked, "Dyson, how did you get injured this time?"
"The rope was too old when we were climbing the mountain. It broke. Oh … I was patrolling along the route and found this on the cliff. " Dyson looked back and took out a small cloth bag from his trousers pocket. He put it on the splint of his right arm and carefully opened it with his left hand. Inside were four pieces of ginger-yellow fleshy plant tubers. Each piece had three slender green branches growing out from it, with three small red berries on top of them. After being bumped, squeezed, and hit, the berries were still intact. The crystal-clear red color had a watery appearance and looked very attractive.
"Giant fruit?" Kipling was surprised. "This is a rare good thing."
"Yes, I know. But this time, let's not give it to the church. " Dyson clutched the cloth bag and said to the old man, "I mean, the church has its own stock. It doesn't need these things as much as the young people. Make it into a potion, mix it in the soup and let the young people drink it. Don't tell them, in case they slip up and the inspectors find out. Renault and Capus need to participate in the strengthening ceremony. Angola and Renault need to improve their physique. With this, at least they can live easier. "
The old man hesitated, pressed his chest, and then nodded. "If the inspectors find out, don't say anything. I'll deal with them. My old face is still very dignified. Besides, you don't want them to know, in case they ruin your cold and ruthless image, right? "
"I just don't want them to be like me." Dyson put the cloth bag in the old man's hand. "They hate me, but it's better than being f * cked by the dangerous world outside."
"Run. Running meant that both legs would leave the ground at the same time! Always having one foot on the ground is called walking! "
Dyson still couldn't hold it in. His loud voice echoed in the castle just like when he wasn't injured. His ribs didn't seem to be affected, at least not from the sound of it.
Reynolds took a step, then another, and he danced. He had no choice. When he couldn't run, he could only jump to get his feet off the ground. But in the case of extreme fatigue, the brain would issue the command to "jump," and the legs would only carry out the "stagger."
After running on the city wall for two months, he had basically gotten used to long-distance running. Just when he thought that the day of his success was right in front of him, the monster known as "weight-bearing training" came again. Sandbag? It didn't exist. Renault was fully armed with leather armor with rivets, a spear, two crossbows, thirty crossbow bolts, a dagger, a double-headed hammer, a helmet, a pot, a raincoat, and all sorts of adventure items that weighed twenty pounds. They were all placed in two backpacks on his chest and back.
Capus said that when we were out on a mission, the backpack was straddled on both sides of the saddle. But this couldn't be said in front of Dyson. Once you mentioned that you had a horse when you were out, a horse would be added to your weight-bearing training the next day — the kind that needed to be carried on your shoulders.
Reynolds thought about the image. Although he felt that it was probably a lie, he didn't want to try it at all.
What would happen if you ran too much and got too tired? Reynolds would tell you: It would feel like going to hell. This wasn't an exaggeration. With every step he took, he didn't feel like he was moving forward. Instead, he felt like he was falling, constantly falling. The ground gave him no support because of the numbness and numbness. Only the eternal gravity was real. Falling was like a soul going to hell.
The only thing that supported Reynolds not to stop was magic. After two months of training, the pain of the whip was no longer stimulating. Dyson's roar had become like a lullaby. Even the meat soup for dinner had lost its appeal. As Reynolds ran, he recited the incantations with his footsteps. He classified, organized, and summarized them in his mind over and over again to numb himself. As it turned out, as long as he didn't think about "stopping," his legs might not stop.
"Come, we'll have more today. Have some soup!" Old Kipling was leaning on a walking stick. A steaming clay pot was dangling from the walking stick. He walked over unsteadily. "Reynolds, bring me four bowls. Run, run, you gluttonous fatty! "
Reynolds agreed with a bright smile. His mind and nose were already above the meat soup. However, he didn't forget to pass the blunt sword for practice to Angola for safekeeping. He also didn't forget to take off his bamboo armor and place it on the rack. Fatty ran out with a whoosh, looking faster than a rabbit.
"Sigh, so tired. But there's a good saying: Once you have meat to stew, you don't need to think about anything else. Oh, thank you, Capus. " Old Kipling sat down on the chair Capus brought over and passed him the walking stick and the soup pot. "You kids have been training hard. It's only a month until winter. The three eaglets will go down the mountain to spend the winter in a month. Capus, take good care of them. "
"Don't worry, I'll take good care of them."
"Don't forget about your training. You can't stop." Dyson snorted and sat down with a hand on his chest. "This year, other than not letting Reynolds get fat, you have to teach Angola how to use a razor."
"He hasn't grown a beard yet." Capus was a little puzzled.
"That's why he needs to shave. That way, it'll grow. He's a danger in and of itself when he looks like that. It'll be better if he has a full beard. Yes, the beard is the armor. Remember that! "
Capus's expression twisted. Angola, on the other hand, didn't express any agreement or objection. If someone passed him a razor, he would use it. He didn't reject it. If no one passed it to him, he wouldn't think about it. He wasn't obsessed.
"What meat is in the pot? It smells so good!" Reynolds hadn't eaten pigs, cows, sheep, or chickens since he came to Ice Peak Fortress. However, he had eaten horses, griffins, wolves, foxes, rabbits, and squirrels. Reality proved that as long as one had the Glutton Empire's "don't waste, don't ask for extravagance" spirit, there was nothing the body couldn't endure.
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