Shire, led by Tibert, came to a corner of the camp. Several mercenaries with unkempt hair and undressed clothes got up and stood in a thin line. Beside them, Char saw a huge machine.
It was a large crossbow mounted on a horse-drawn frame, with shafts at the front for two horses, and four broad wheels on both sides, which were quite smooth. The back of the crossbow is fitted with a whorl to draw its huge, strong string, and in the central recess is placed a special long crossbow, the arrowhead is a hand wide, and the end is sharp, very frightening. The skill of the craftsman was revealed throughout the crossbow, and Shire saw many metal parts which he could not name, strong, solid, and reliable.
"This is the Blood Bride, the largest crossbow ever built." Tibert stroked its metal frame. "We are the best dragon hunters in the mountains, and I don't know how many dragons we have killed. Nothing can get shot by it and survive. No. We believe in the power of skill and experience, Lord Rocher. What you see is what you believe."
"As you can see, I hired Van Shan's dragon-hunting team, because I knew they were good folk with this type of catapult, mercenaries of considerable renown." Rocher explained to Shire, "My troops will fight with Mr. Tibert, around him, and you should follow his orders."
Shire around the crossbow car walked a circle, while walking in the heart of the inquiry.
"Can this hurt demons?"
"It's not that simple, haha, mortals are so naive." "The structure of your mind is so simple that you want to go out and wreak havoc on the world. Together, Char, we can enslave these fools as much as we like."
Char looked back at Tibert. 'Why is it shooting up?'
Tibert gives a slight signal, and a mercenary walks over to the side of the crossbow, and quickly pulls a wooden handle back and forth, and the crossbow makes a rhythmic creaking sound, and the Angle of fire slowly increases. Then the mercenary presses the handle back into place, and the crossbow automatically sinks, and the crossbow is reaimed straight ahead.
The mercenary then shows the Shire its steering capabilities. The crossbow is not fixed to the car, but by pushing the crossbow itself, it can be turned on the chassis and can be easily fired in all directions.
"Can it shoot demons?" Shire questioned.
Tibert asked contemptuously, "Little Hunter, I am a little tired of your questions." How many demons have you killed?"
Shire is one of the delays.
"... No."
"No?" Tibert opened his eyes wide, and then laughed, and the mercenaries around him laughed, and a happy atmosphere filled the air, and other soldiers came to join in the fun, poking around, and Shire was caught in the middle of them, with great embarrassment.
"I killed a river troll on the way here." 'said Shire.
"River troll? Are river trolls demons?" Tibert gave another burst of laughter, laughing so hard that he almost doubled over. "No -- don't be ridiculous, we're dealing with demons, and we need a serious atmosphere! But you... You're such a delight."
Char's face was very ugly.
"Your 'tools' cannot deal with the devil." 'said Shire.
"What do you think? Do you really think so?" Tibert stiffened his expression. "What do you think we do for a living? We only respect experienced, well-trained fighters, and if you don't, excuse me, please step aside, don't disturb the professional mission, don't try to interfere with us, and don't even try to belittle us."
"Mr. Shire will not interfere with our plans." Rocher said, "We need him as an advisor with a wealth of demonic knowledge. Shire, what do you know of the demons captured in your sanctuary?"
Another embarrassing question.
"You know what? Charles asked Graddiu in his mind, "You know this' winged demon '..."
"Ah! You're asking me for help! Aren't we enemies?" "I killed your friends, but you need me and I need you. If you are willing to turn your enemy into a friend, and let go of your messy, pointless hatred, and decide to make friends with me, I will give you the information and the news. How's that? That's a good deal. Considering how much time we have to spend together, it is time to let down your guard, mortal, and make friends with the devil."
"... Get lost." Char knew he could never give in to the devil. He believed that the demon was always greedy and cunning, and that if it acted friendly, it must be up to something bigger.
Looking at the different looks of people's ardent, skeptical, and examining, Shire had to admit: "I don't know." If I go back to the Grey-Tree Hall and look it up..."
"There is no time for you." Tibert ran his hand through the air, as if to swat away unrealistic thoughts. "Speaking of which, are you really a demon hunter? You seem Can't do anything."
Char frowned, and if he were to show it, he could use a hunter's spell. But yet
"There is no need to add to the atmosphere of tension and hatred here, Shire, my men will take you to your rest. Mr. Tibert, we can continue to talk about the next plan. ' Rocher has completely ignored Shire.
They began to talk eagerly and positively about what was to come, and as they walked towards Rocher's tent, Tibert turned and gave Shire a contemptuous look.
I don't know why he took it so personally. 'thought Shire.
Char waited there for a while, but no one came to him and took him to his rest place, which made him feel like a fool, because the others kept whispering and talking about Char and laughing, which made him feel more and more ashamed. So Char planned to find a place to rest from the wind, away from the crowd, just out of half a step, the distance sounded a husky voice.
"Wait a minute." An old soldier with a broad forehead and gray-haired, greasy skin shouted to Shire, who was sitting at a table playing dominos with some soldiers. "Wait till I finish this round."
"Who are you?" 'asked Shire, puzzled.
"Be quiet, I'm studying the card game." The veteran turned around and focused on the situation on the table, "Hey, you cheated! You changed the cards when I looked up!"
"Thank you, thank you, I'll be rude." The other soldier smiled, spread his cards on the table, and took all the silver and copper coins scattered on the table into his arms.
"It's fucking indecent, messing around while I'm distracted." The old soldier got up in an angry voice and went to Shire's side. "Let's go."
"I am Charles, and what is your name?"
"I am Proulx of Fort Gloom." The old soldier answered lazily. "I am Lord Roche's soldier. I work for him."
"Oh," he said. Shire followed closely behind the old soldier, "If you are not busy, I want to ask you something."
"You use honorifics. You're a good boy." Proulx nodded approvingly. "Go ahead."
"That Tibert, the leader of the mercenaries, seems very displeased with me. Do you know why?"
"Well, boy, if someone gets angry with you for no reason, listen to me, it's got something to do with profit." Proulx slowly explained, "There is only one contradiction in the world that is irreconcilable, and that is the contradiction of interests."
"What conflict of interest could I have with him?" Shire was puzzled.
"I don't know, what do you do again?"
"Demon Hunter."
Proulx drew back two steps and looked suspiciously up and down at Shire. 'So young? I'm also a demon hunter. I'm glad I didn't piss on the devil."
"I'm already conscious."
"Well, surely you can cut off the monster's head and go to the count for a hundred gold pieces."
"A hundred gold pieces! Shire wide eyes, this is a large sum of money, enough to build a large and pleasant house in the countryside.
"I thought demon hunters were unselfish and not good with money." Proulx was surprised.
"No... Just a little..." Char sighed.
"So you see, if you are competitive and strive for the top and kill the demon, the money will fly away from him, so he hates you!" I guess he's dying of anxiety." Proulx laughed. "He comes from Mount Van, whose inhabitants are either savages or lunatics, or their hybrids. Ah, I'm with you. You look like a native of Loman, a good man, not like those dirty mountain people. When the monster is shot down, and you take advantage of his pride, rush to cut off the demon's head, you will be rich."
"First we have to shoot it down." Char lacks confidence in the crossbow.
Proulx led Charles to a narrow little tent, with several similar round tents around it, where the strange soldiers sat by the fire and looked up at Charles and Proulx.
"Well, you can settle down here for the time being." Proulx gestured to the tent. "If you need anything else, just let me know."
Charles opened the tent. It was very simple inside, with a sheet of linen on the floor, separating the people from the mud, and an empty box in the corner.
"I couldn't be more satisfied." 'said Shire.
"Heh heh." Proulx went to the fire, where a fish was cooking in a pot. He picked up a wooden spoon and began to drink the fresh soup amid the grumbling of the others. The old soldier looked round at Shire. 'Have you got any supper?'
"The people in the village gave me something to eat." Char put his knapsack into the tent and took out the dried meat.
"Share it with me." It seems that some people are particularly good at getting from others, Shire does not understand, but he does not want to conflict with each other, simply took a piece of meat to him.
Proulx chewed the meat.
"I see you have your sword." He said, "Are you a swordsman or something?"
"I can't say. I use a sword for self-defense, but I haven't learned swordplay." Only those who have learned swordsmanship can be called swordsmen.
"I can teach you the basics." Proulx dried his mouth, then pulled out his sword, and turned his weapon in front of the Shire. "We are about to set out to fight the devil. It is always good to learn more."
Shire's eyes lit up. In Proulx's hand, the sword seemed to move in a systematic way, moving delicately from side to side, and the force of the wrist was precise.
"This is Proulx with his sword." The soldier nearby added, "You're in luck."
Char drew out the sharp grey knife, which aroused their admiration.
"Fuck, if only I had such a good weapon..."
"Step apart, slightly wider than shoulder width." Proulx demonstrated to Shire, "One in front, one behind, easy to move at any time, look straight at your enemy." All swordplay starts from the four main positions."
Charles obeyed the instructions and began to learn.
"' Savage '." Proulx held his sword in both hands and held it high above his head, "a position that allows you to hit back easily."
"The autumn harvest." He tilted the sword to his right behind him, as if he were going to swing it forward, "from this Angle to maximize the threat to the enemy."
"Duel." His body is slightly inclined, in a posture of eagerness, and the tip of the sword is pointed diagonally upward, precisely at the neck and chest of the target. "In this posture, if you are faster than them, you win."
"The Fool." Proulx put his sword under his hands, showing that he had an empty door wide open, convenient for others to attack at any time, "when you feel that the other side lacks vigilance, you put this posture to lure him to attack."
Shire more and more excited, addicted to the practice of the sword, the night gradually passed, he did not feel tired, because he gradually from a layman who only knew how to swing the soldier iron into a little experience of the apprentice, step into the hall of the sword, oblivious to the previous unhappy.