Apple

(' "Dragon?" several children yelled, making Wolfe think for a moment that a group of ducks with their tails had been chopped off in front of his house. "Jack, this is terrible!"

"But why did Wolfe do this?" Fortunately, not all children are so open-minded, and a boy immediately reacted with the potential to be difficult to be fooled. "What good does it do him?"

At first, Wolfe still smiled when he heard this, but the next sentence made him feel the deep malice in this world: "Hey! You see, the village will have no relatives, no daughter-in-law, no friends. What does it have to do with him being destroyed? As for the benefits... Dragon, he will definitely thank Wolff for letting him out with a lot of gold coins!"

"That's right! He's terrible!" Amidst a burst of smirk, Wolfe gave a vicious smile to these brats, pretending to shout out of the fence, "Ah! The messenger from hell, I don't know Are you satisfied with the boys and girls I have given you?"

The children all turned pale with fright, especially Jack, who had the most trouble, turned pale with fright: "Wolf, who are you talking to?"

Wolf gave them a blank look: "Call me Mr. Priest!"

In order to understand the confusion, the bear children shouted: "Mr. Priest, please, tell us! Who are you talking to?"

"Why?" Wolff asked in feigned surprise, "Can't you see that uncle in black robe with a red tongue sticking out?"

Then he nodded to the brats with certainty, as if he was describing something that should be taken for granted: "That's right, it's right behind you!"

Bear children, look at me, I look at you, suddenly there was a collective burst of screaming, crying and crying, especially Jack cried the loudest and ran the fastest: "Wow! Wolfe , Wolfe summoned the devil who loves to eat children again!"

"It's finally quiet!" Wolfe sighed. As a strange Nord, he has always disliked too much contact with the outside world. In a sense, Wolfe is a man who lives in his own world most of the time. His friends only have a box full of books and strange tools.

The treasures in that box come from the Karad Empire (the old dynasty of Swadia), Salander, Kujit, and the farther east. It is said that it is a powerful dynasty established by people who eat with chopsticks. Books deal with crafts, military affairs, literature, politics, business, and everything.

All these things were translated by Wolfe's ancestors in the past hundred years. Countless nights, one by one lonely people deliberated letter by letter under a lonely lamp, and spent a lot of money to hire translators, thinking over and over again about the words that ghosts don't know. mean.

Reading has never been for anything, but books have become the only hobby they can choose. If Wolff wants to write a biography for himself, it should be called "One Hundred Years of Solitude".

Wolff's family is passed down in a single line, and they are all extremely smart. If you take out the craftsmanship in the box, no one will starve to death. Including Wolf's father, the seemingly useless little old man who married the most coveted girl in the village with three thousand dinars and a bag full of money. People said that when the old man dumped the bag of gold coins at the feet of the contemptuous father-in-law, the whole village was shocked and speechless.

That should be the most glorious moment for this little old man who has drawn a circle around Blackcurrant Village all his life, but he never described that scene to Wolfe. This is a low-key habit, and Wolff is also very uncomfortable. Like to brag about what you've done.

'Mother', Wolf thought as he threw the stink beans into the pot, the word was completely foreign to him. My father said that my mother hated her father to death, thinking that he insulted her youth with money, and died after giving birth to Wolfe.

"Which Nord woman doesn't love warriors who kill without blinking? Dry priests, only people love their money." Since then, my father rarely reads books, and whenever he has time, he goes out of the village to watch the waves on the shore that is not suitable for a port. .

As a child, Wolfe could only nod in puzzlement and bewilderment. When he grew up, he realized that he had a feminine appearance and a short height among the Nords (average 1.9 Wolfe 1.73). No girl had ever secretly looked at him with gentle eyes. They prefer those muscular teenagers who need to use their toes for addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division within ten. Even if they occupy them in the barren meadow, they turn around and put on the belt and don't admit it, they are still sought after by countless women.

"Maybe I have to carry on the family line!" Wolf angrily tapped the beans in the pot with a stick. "Damn, you ignorant village girl!"

In the gray courtyard, Wolfe mechanically scooped out the boiled bean juice and poured it into the horn cup, put the finished shield base on the ground, and covered it little by little while the bean juice was warm. The leaves watched all this silently, and hanging from the branches was the large birdcage that Wolff had made in his spare time. A Karad merchant who was interested in Nord mythology offered 5,000 dinars to order all of them.

A gilded birdcage, sink, and food bucket are all available, and Wolf outlines a statue of the goddess Hyzena for it, holding a miniature singing platform in one hand.

But this is still boring. For a hundred years, from grandfather to father, and then from father to son, the grandson of Wolfe still repeats the path of his ancestors, unable to walk out of his own shadow.

In his dream, Wolf once saw Tiha, which stretched for twelve miles. It was a city that the Swadians hired the Nords to build, and now the Nords will take it back. The banner of the Northern Legion fluttered on the purple-white city wall, rising and falling like waves. The golden ring-colored wheat oozes a fragrance never seen before in Greenland, flowing like rivers and streams in the mountain streams and ravines, and the golden rod of power shines with a seductive diamond light on the skeleton hand of the throne.

Wolfe, the cowardly little priest Wolfe, has dreams.

War attracts this powerless young man like a magnet. The strange and unpredictable swords and honors make him confused, but he is even more eager. In his opinion, the ship after ship of Nord soldiers is a combination of the best pirate and the worst army, if he has an army, trained in the way of the ancient Kharad empire (can't say he is right, and can't say he was wrong).....

Wolfe has nothing but a box of books, 10,000 dinars, and a small courtyard.

And he only had one dream, and when he woke up from the dream, he didn't want to have anything else.

Wolfe had no interest in the different noises in the village center in the distance, whether the lord was recruiting soldiers, or the grain requisition team was plundering supplies. If the lords really need some "God Odin's blessing", please take sacrifices to express respect to God Odin. The effects range from strengthening yang to praying for victory.

But he doesn't look for trouble, things will find him. From a distance, he heard the heavy breathing of soldiers in iron armor running, and a group of loud and wild shouts: "Make way, make way, we are Earl Ragnar's royal guards! Priests! Priests! Our brothers! Choking to death on an apple!"

The royal guards look really fragile, and an apple can kill them.