"How dare you the bitch contradict me? You ungrateful bastards! I'll beat you to death!" The servant waved the whip in his hand ferociously and was about to slap Allen.
Allen didn't move and looked at the servant calmly.
"Enough!"
Suddenly, a cold crane came out of the carriage.
"Don't delay my work. Your shabby clothes are not worth much."
He said in a slightly cold voice.
When the servant heard the voice, his face changed into a completely different expression, and the ferocity on his face disappeared, turning into extreme flattery.
The convoy continued to move forward, and the reallocation of the charity was outside the city.
At this time, the child's mother ran out crying and wanted to take the child back.
"Thank you, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't helped me drag the boy back, but the noble lord wasn't at peace..." The woman sobbed and thanked Allen.
"What kind of aristocracy is he? He is just a dog beside the aristocracy." Allen snorted.
The woman didn't dare to say anything but kept thanking him.
"But even if they are afraid of those aristocrats, they won't be so afraid. No one can speak?"
Allen murmured with puzzlement.
The performance of these refugees was simply too strange.
"You are obviously from another city. Recently, a lot of people in the city have disappeared mysteriously. Rumors are that they have been taken away by the nobility."
A mocking voice sounded, suddenly appeared behind Allen.
Allen turned around curiously and found a middle-aged man dressed as an adventurer.
"The nobility has taken them away? This group of people are just penniless refugees. They even have few Knight Apprentices. Why did the nobility take them away?"
This group of ordinary people basically had nothing.
No wonder Allen was so strange.
"Think about it. Why is castellan famous? And why are many of its subordinates famous?"
The adventurer sneered.
Allen felt as if he had been struck by lightning.
He remembered that when he drank with Kenan in the tavern some time ago, he seemed to have heard some comments on the castellan, which was cruel and bloodthirsty, and craved for greatness and success
"Yes, how could such a person accept refugees?"
The adventurer looked at the back of the nobleman who was leaving in the distance and sneered. He did not answer and left silently.
Suddenly, Allen felt a movement in his left hand.
It was Winnie who had been carried by him around by the neck, struggling, clawing her way through the air.
Allen put her down awkwardly.
"I'm sorry. There was an emergency just now and I didn't have time to react."
"Humph!" Winnie turned back to her human form and looked angry.
"If it weren't for the emergency, I would have scratched your face." Winnie said fiercely.
Allen chose to ignore her feigned anger.
What he cared more now was why castellan received so many ordinary refugees. Was it really like what those people said that they were going to catch and abuse them?
Allen shuddered at the thought.
To verify the adventurer's words, Allen intended to follow the aristocrat, but since the latter had gone far, Allen could only turn to look at Winnie for help.
"Why are you looking at me? I'm a noble cat. I'm not those dogs. I won't lead the way for you."
Winnie said proudly.
Ten minutes later.
Led by Winnie, Allen quickly caught up with the aristocrat.
The aristocrat's subordinate was setting up a stall outside the city to cook porridge. He looked like a normal aristocrat with no small movements.
Confused, Allen sneaked into the kitchen while the others weren't looking.
The so-called kitchen was just a shabby shed supported by a few wooden sticks.
There were some simple stoves in it, and the firewood was burning under it.
"The good food for those pariahs is really a waste." A rough voice came from the shed.
"They must pay for eating our food."
The other one said in a sharp voice.
"I know. Don't worry. I won't break your plan."
The strange conversation between the two made Allen suspicious. What were they planning?
Allen carefully turned his head to look at the bold-faced cook. He was stirring the soup spoon while the other one was sprinkling a lot of noodles in the pot.
Allen's eyes narrowed.
He walked out carefully. Recently, he had been studying magic. Coincidentally, he knew that kind of powder, which was a kind of sleeping drug. As long as one took it, he would fall asleep.
Allen walked to the other side and found that these people were carrying a large pot of soup towards the group of refugees.
The next step was to distribute the porridge. The person who was distributed the porridge would be taken to another room.
Allen guessed that the whole thing might be hidden here.
When he got there, he found many old carriages behind the house, on which there were many unconscious people.
"Sure enough, these aristocrats did not have good intentions. They excuse the soup kitchen, in fact, they want to arrest the refugees." Allen said angrily.
"Will you arrest your own people?" Winnie asked in confusion.
Thinking of the description of the taboos in Malcolm's notes, Allen fell into silence.
Malcolm was a decent mage, but that didn't mean everyone was decent.
Many people would choose a shortcut.
Most demons needed to be tested, and the best one was human beings.
Obviously, these aristocrats treated these ordinary people as experiments.
Allen was about to leave when a man walked out and met Allen.
The two stared at each other.
Winnie was beside them and looked at them curiously.
"Do you know each other?"
The knight shook his head blankly.
Allen nodded awkwardly.
The next moment, the knight pulled out his sword from his waist to chop Allen, but Allen had already grabbed Winnie and started to run away.
After running quickly over a hill, Allen turned around and saw that the knight was still chasing after him.
Allen couldn't get rid of him completely, so he had to kill him head-on in case of being surrounded by other large forces.
Allen's eyes turned cold. He drew out his sword and chopped at the man behind him. He didn't expect him to be so alert.
He raised his hand to hold Allen's sword, but his face changed dramatically in an instant.
Allen's sword was so heavy that he couldn't withstand it. He could only move aside.
As soon as they fought, Allen knew that the man was only a Formal Knight.
This made him feel a little relieved.
He planned to kill the other party as soon as possible.
The sword struck out four or five times as fast as lightning, but Allen didn't expect that the other party would take them all. Although he was a little embarrassed, they were not injured.
Allen carefully felt that when his sword hit the man's sword, he didn't feel the force of the hard collision, but a smooth force, as if he was thrown aside.
Only thirty or forty percent of the power may really fall on us.
"What brilliant swordsmanship!" Allen thought to himself.
If it wasn't for the wrong time, he would have discussed it with him.
At this time, the sound of the horse's hooves came from the other side of the hill. Allen's face darkened.
But his swordsmanship was so skillful that Allen couldn't think of a quick solution.
Suddenly, Allen came up with an idea. The last words of Malcolm before his death came to his mind.
A book seemed to appear in his mind. He turned over the pages and finally stopped at the formula of the frosty drug.
"The essence of the mixture is magic."
Allen seemed to understand something and pointed at the man unconsciously.
The knight looked at Allen, confused.
But at this moment, he suddenly felt a pain in his abdomen. He looked down and saw an arrow condensed by ice smashed into his armor.
The sharp arrows broke through the armor, only leaving a small cut in the skin, and then it was broken down.
However, the chill did not dissipate but coiled around his body.
The icy meridians attacked his body at a terrifying speed.
In fact, Allen didn't realize what had happened. The ice sword was just a product of a flash of inspiration, but when he saw the other party's flaws, he naturally wouldn't let it go.
He raised his hand and stabbed the knight in the chest.
Knowing that there was no hope for him to survive, the knight swung his sword at Allen's neck. He didn't expect to be stopped by the cat in Allen's arms.