"I saw it."
"What did you see?"
"Their faces."
In the moonlight entering the cave, Jorgen could see that Bossia's face was a little pale. These days, they had traveled for two days to rest for one night, but Jorgen believed Bossia's current face was a reaction after seeing the attendants' faces.
"I saw them lift their masks to eat."
"We should be grateful that they at least eat, and cooked. So, what do they look like?"
Bossia glanced obliquely at the rocks on the wall of the cave, was silent for a while, and tried her best to recall what she had just seen. Suddenly, this imagination made her feel a little uncomfortable in her chest, so she gave up her effort to express it again in words.
"Forget it. I won't say."
"I'm not really that interested either."
"Don't they need to sleep?"
Jorgen looked at the attendants sitting at the entrance of the cave. They sat with their backs against the wall, their bodies slightly facing inward, their tall bodies were like two black cliffs blocking most of the entrance of the cave. The masks were still intact on their faces. The breathing sounds under the masks were like cold wind passing through burnt black tree holes.
"I guess they're asleep now," Jorgen said.
"You guess?"
"Don't ask these useless questions. Do you want to escape while they're asleep?"
"Is it wrong to think like this?"
"Yes, it's so right. Precisely because everyone would think so, professional escorts would never give you this opportunity. Looking at their posture at the door now, it is impossible to get past them without alerting them. And one of them still holds the other end of the rope on me."
"The dagger I gave you is still here. I can cut it for you."
"Not now, Bossia. We'll be at the place where your stuff is buried tomorrow. That will be our chance. When the time comes, be sure to listen to what I say. You'd better get some sleep now."
Bossia moved back and sat on the other side of the cave, opposite Jorgen. She closed her eyes for a while, then opened them again.
"You don't seem afraid at all."
"That's the least thing that needs to be shown. To put it this way, if you were more experienced, you could still see that I am now also afraid that it will fail tomorrow."
"I can't see it. Your face hasn't changed, your breathing is still so relaxed, and you speak so fluently..."
"You can see from this point: I urge you to sleep quickly, which is conducive to calming myself down, and also does not want you to continue observing my performance. Ugh, I shouldn't have told you. Now you know. "
"Where can you learn this knowledge?"
"From a place you will never go. Of course, more comes from experience. Doing this for a long time, you can gradually see things on people that you couldn't see before. Including what they don't want to show."
"What you said, it seems I can feel it. You are really afraid."
"Do you want to make me angry? Unless you said that on purpose to make me let go of my baggage, then I have to thank you."
"Being able to see what others want to hide from others... If I had this ability, I probably wouldn't worry about Neil." Bossia paused for a moment, then said, "Is there anything in my heart that I want to hide now? Can you see it?"
"Can."
"Tell me, what is it."
"You're thinking you should sleep instead of chattering with me. That's it."
"Liar..."
In any case, Jorgen's move was very effective. The two did not speak again. Bossia closed her eyes and fell asleep quickly, her body slanted slightly. Jorgen just breathed a sigh of relief and immediately felt his heart accelerate. He could not die at the hands of the attendants, at least not tomorrow. He still had a lot to do.
Jorgen also slept for a while near dawn, and was immediately awakened by the tugging of the rope on his body. As they approached their destination, the attendants seemed eager to get on the road.
At noon, they came to the open space outside Goldshire. Not far away, you could see the pointed tops of the Darkmoon Faire's big tent, and their stay there was nearing its end, and the noise level had reached its peak. Colorful smoke, gradually rising into the sky, faded under the sun. All this made Jorgen feel very ironic. Now, he was facing a threat to his life, but what he saw in his eyes was a lively and joyful scene. He could even hear the audience in the tent, shouting rhythmically with the performance.
He and Bossia were forced off their horses together, and at a glance recognized the place where the armor was buried. Obviously, few people had come nearby, and the mud covering it did not even have footprints. This is good, Jorgen thought. Once the stuff inside had been dug out by passers-by, the only choice he could make now was to run into the woods as far as possible. As far as possible.
They approached step by step, with Jorgen slightly ahead, very slowly, but eventually stood beside the burial site. The shallow tomb shape that was used to make a few jokes at the time now looked so ominous.
Jorgen looked back. The two attendants were standing behind them, one farther away and the other less than two meters away. He gave up trying to identify which one used flying needles and which used fists by sight, and could only infer based on common sense and hope he was not wrong.
He looked at the undertaker nearby and said, "It's right here." The other lifted his head slightly, just as when he smashed Jorgen's dagger before.
Bossia looked at Jorgen, the intense tension causing her breathing to accelerate noticeably. She opened her mouth slightly, as if to say something, but did not make a sound. Or couldn't make a sound.
"Take out the dagger and dig," Jorgen lowered his voice for the second half of the sentence, "stay calm."
Bossia knelt down halfway, took out Jorgen's dagger, held it with both hands, and trembled slightly from her upper arms. Probably three seconds later, she stabbed it in. Rotten leaves and soft mud floated up from the insertion point, sticking to her hands. She did not pull out the dagger for a long time or start digging. Jorgen squatted down and said to her in a calm tone: "Continue. Don't be afraid."
Bossia struggled to pull the dagger out towards her body, bringing out a large handful of mud. She looked like a novice butcher trying hard but cautiously opening a live pig's belly. Thinking that after her armor was exposed, Jorgen might face death, she could hardly exert any strength. The sound of the blade stabbing deeply into the mud was amplified and distorted in her mind, and the mud and leaves in her mind seemed to gradually turn into broken blood vessels and smelly flesh. If it weren't for Jorgen encouraging her to stay calm beside her, she would probably have stopped moving to endure the terrible sound.
The attendants did not come forward to take over the digging, just watching. Jorgen thought he had won half the bet. He said to Bossia, "Stop, just dig this deep. Don't stab down anymore. Now a little to the left, yes, there. Don't stab, scrape off the mud layer by layer with the flat side. Don't rush, move naturally. "
Bossia did as Jorgen said, and suddenly understood what he was going to do. The other parts of the armor were still hidden under the mud, the first to emerge was her long sword. Even though it had been buried for so many days, this sword specially used by the Cathedral Guards of the Holy Light was still bright and dazzling.
Jorgen immediately turned around with his back to Bossia, and strained hard to push open the rough rope knot tied behind him. "Cut it off!" With this cry, Bossia threw down the dagger, raised her long sword, and cut down the middle of Jorgen's joined wrists. This rope knot was thick and thick, even the sharpest dagger could not cut it instantly, but Bossia's long sword could.
As Jorgen felt the rope split, the nearby undertaker had already leapt over and swung his fist at the two of them. Jorgen immediately pushed Bossia away, and he rolled to the left to avoid the blow. The black shadow fell like a boulder, and the mud splashed high under his fist. The entire shallow pit was destroyed, and several parts of the armor scattered.
Jorgen tightly grasped a section of rope with both hands, stretched it, looped it around the back of the undertaker's neck, and then used all his strength to pull the enemy down, put him face down, and slammed his knee fiercely into the enemy's spine.
At the same time, he put more force on his neck. This was a position where the fists could not swing directly at him. The undertaker's right elbow swung back, trying to attack Jorgen's temple, but missed.
Bossia raised her long sword, about to slash at the undertaker who was under control by Jorgen, but the distant enemy threw a flying needle, hitting the middle of her sword hilt. Bossia's palm tingled, and the long sword fell.
Jorgen quickly realized that he couldn't snap the undertaker's neck with just the strength of his hands. He risked letting go of his right hand, gripped Bossia's fallen dagger tightly, and stabbed the enemy's throat.
He almost anticipated the undertaker's next move: swinging his left fist with all his might to strike the dagger. At the moment when he felt the strong impact on his right hand, he suddenly felt that he had finally failed, and the fragments of the dagger had not yet scattered from the air, he would die here.
But this time it was different. He found that the J-shaped dagger was still intact. It was still in his hand, hanging over the undertaker's throat. He did not hesitate at all, stabbed it down, felt it cut through all the bloody and messy things, and stabbed very deep. Jorgen's right fist came in contact with the sudden gush of hot, fresh blood.
He dropped the heavy corpse and had not stood up straight yet, when he felt an impact on his heart. The distant undertaker pulled out the flying needle and attacked him.
That needle was stuck right in the center of Jorgen's heart, not at all. Bossia cried out, then covered her mouth. But what she saw next was Jorgen easily pulling out the flying needle and throwing it back. The other undertaker also did not expect to be counterattacked, and was hit in the face mask by the flying needle. Although not injured, the huge echo caused by the metal hitting the mask hard made him bend over, making strange howls from his mouth.
"Don't be stunned, run quickly!" Jorgen had to forcibly pull the stunned Bossia and run into the bushes. About a minute later, Bossia regained her senses and looked at him, saying, "How did you... be okay?"
"This is not good," Jorgen took out the gold Cathedral badge from under his leather armor, with a small hole in the center, "It seems I owe the Archbishop a favor."