Prologue Monologue

The Master Chief of the militia training team didn't lie to me, the necessary experience can save your life at a critical moment.

If it wasn't for the training for the past month, I'm afraid I couldn't avoid the deadly sword in my sleep just now - the sudden attack caused a lightning-like alertness and woke me up from my sleep; I opened my eyes. Shi Ying reflected in the sharp long sword, and couldn't help but a chilling heart and lungs rose from the bottom of my heart——

It's heart palpitating!

But to be honest, I don't know how I reacted at the time. Perhaps it was an instinct developed in the long-term training camp. At the critical moment, I turned my head sideways, and the sword rubbed my ear and stabbed it.

A close call--

Then I saw the black rose emblem of Bromantra in full bloom on the steel long sword that was radiant with cold light, which was inlaid on a square iron plate. I was stunned for a moment before I recognized this thing, "Madala's army of undead!" It was as if a basin of cold water poured from head to toe to wake me up completely. Damn, why are these ghosts here?

I clearly remember that I was on vacation at an old house in the countryside of Bucchi. This is a property left by my grandfather during his lifetime. I sought the consent of the old man in the family to live here temporarily and help him take care of the old house. .

My mother was a Cadillac, which is about the only lineage closest to aristocracy in my body. But my father was just an ordinary miller—he wasn't even like my grandfather who fought in the famous November War and won the Order of the Candlelight—but an honest middle-aged man.

And I, I am an ordinary young man who can be seen everywhere in the kingdom. My biggest dream is to join the army or go out on an adventure and come back with a big family business.

Maybe finally find a beautiful and moving wife to spend the rest of your life with, which is perfect!

But gossip aside, the fact that there is a terrifying undead next to the bed now trying to kill me makes my heart numb, but fortunately, the things that the instructors teach are still in my head, and they have not been thrown out of the sky because of a mess of thoughts. I recalled for a moment, my sword should be placed by the bed, but that skeleton will definitely not give me a chance to get the sword - now I realize that this is really not a good habit, next time I will definitely Remember to put it under your pillow.

Of course these thoughts only existed in my plan for a moment.

I instinctively took advantage of the situation and threw out, and when I rolled out of bed, I tore the skeleton standing beside my bed to the ground. At this moment, I remember every word that the instructor said in the first practical class:

Remember, these Madara's lowest-ranking soldiers, driven by pure soul fire, are slow, unintelligent, and feeble--

But before I had time to think about it, a huge force rushed from under me, as if I was suppressing not a skeleton but a bull. All in all, a force of unstoppable force sent me flying outwards, and then slammed into the cabinet on one side. I heard my bones and my bookcase groaning in the teeth, and the pain that ran through my body made me grit my teeth, but I shook my head to shake the dizziness out—because I remember me What should I do, in my swaying vision, the skeleton has stood upright to draw its sword stuck on the bed.

Its movements are indeed very stiff, but how can this strength not be weak?

But I was about to turn around and run away, because the 'guy' had drawn his sword and turned into a dangerous being again. As for me, I ask myself that strength is not its opponent, or I guess that three more I will not be enough for it to see one - and the key is that I have no weapons in my hand -

My sword is just separated by it, of course I believe it's just a coincidence, since skeletons have no intelligence.

I just ran to the door, and then I couldn't help screaming bad luck - because I saw the door of the hall below slammed open, and a cold moonlight came in, and the moonlight was full of poetry and picturesque,

If it weren't for the fact that it was set against another white skeleton.

I noticed that this low-level being of Madara had apparently just walked in - it was clutching another steel longsword, wearing Madara's standard chain mail on the bone rack, and wearing a dark helmet.

But what frustrates me the most is that it looks up and just locks on to me with two scarlet flames beating in its dark eye sockets.

Looks like it sees me.

There are wolves in front and tigers behind, which is not a good sign.

Dear Martha, I can't help praying to the gods in my heart, I'm only nineteen years old this year, and I can't die in a backcountry in such a vague way.

By the way, I haven't confessed to the woman I love yet. My heart beat faster when I thought of that charming girl businessman, whose house was right across from me, and I couldn't put my favorite girl in danger.

I just calmed down and tried to find a way out. My mind turned sharply, and at this time the lesson of the Master Chief came to my mind—

"You can only fight if you calm down!"

This view coincides with my current situation, but now that I have no weapons, I can't fight a beast with my bare hands? While panting and leaning against the wall nervously, I looked around with a panicked look. Although this old house can't be said to be a family, there is nothing in the hall that can be used as a makeshift weapon.

If only my grandfather had been a great nobleman, I've been to the Earl of Remington, and in their main hall, which is five times the size of this hall, there are many shields, swords, and axes hanging on the walls, and I'll be there. There is sure to be easy to find a decent weapon there.

What's more, my swordsmanship is not bad. This is not my boast. The old non-commissioned officer praised me personally, saying that my swordsmanship is the best among our students.

Even the Bresson kid is no match for me, though I've always envied his father as a magistrate. If my father was also a local officer, I would definitely be able to join the garrison.

Of course, it's useless to say this now, in short, there is still the skeleton soldier between my sword and me. Although they can't run, their walking speed is similar to that of ordinary people, and their movements are a bit stiff, but they are only a line slower than an adult.

On the training ground I'd bet I could play it around, but in a tight spot like this I'd probably take a stab at it.

The two skeletons were getting closer and closer, and the 'kakaka' footsteps sounded like they were beating in my heart, and my own heartbeat was like thunder, pounding.

I was at a loss - the skeleton in the bedroom came out, it paused, then turned and walked quickly towards me. I took a step back subconsciously and hit something hard on my back.

Then I remembered that there should be an oil painting hanging behind my back. This painting was handed down from my grandfather's generation. It is said to be a family heirloom. The cripple in Black Pepper Lane once said that he would use ten gold coins to buy this painting, but was rejected. My father refused.

My father is a stubborn old man, but I'm not like him. If it hadn't happened, I'd often think about selling this painting when I'm at the end of my life, and buying a beautiful horse, and the one opposite the door. The young lady of Merchant Dream went on a tour of the mainland together.

But I can't control that much anymore, and now this family heirloom is going to save my life. I turned around and grabbed the painting's wooden frame and ripped it off, not in the mood to worry about breaking it at this point—it's worth at least ten gp, though I suspected it was worth more at one point. money, because the cripple in Black Pepper Lane is notoriously mean.

Ten gold coins is a lot of wealth, and the most money I have ever seen growing up is about ten silver coins.

I couldn't help but take a breath and felt my hands shaking. I want to wait until I throw this painting at the terrifying undead, slip past it while it's on its guard, get my sword, and smash the two skeleton frames into pieces with my swordsmanship.

Of course I could do the same, but just go out into the street. But I can't guarantee whether there are things like these ghosts outside, and rushing out with bare hands is completely courting death. So I made up my mind and felt that it would be better to be brave.

Although this is just a more idealized idea, maybe it will give me a sword regardless of anything, and then I will go to see Martha-sama.

I can't help but wonder if they'll put up a monument for me that says--

"Poor Brando, he obviously got it wrong—"

I shivered, and hurriedly shook my head to get rid of this terrifying thought that was entrenched in my mind like a ghost - blah blah blah, I won't die.

Then I looked at the gray oil painting on my hand again, seriously I don't see what's so good about this thing - it's ten gold coins? I wonder if that cripple from Black Pepper Lane would feel a pity to throw it out like this?

But that terrifying undead is already in sight, I don't have time to regret the ten gold coins that I'm about to lose and the opportunity to travel the continent with that merchant lady, because I've already threw that picture frame out subconsciously. .

I threw it very accurately, the painting almost flew in a straight line to the white frame of bones, great, and the idiot raised his sword consciously and it was a horizontal split, I saw that The gray oil painting 'tears' splits into two pieces in mid-air.

What a great strength! Fortunately, the Master Chief didn't lie about the key issues, these skeletons really lacked wisdom.

Almost as soon as this question flashed through my mind, people rushed out subconsciously.

My bedroom door is not far from me, and thanks to Martha, I only have to rush out a few steps to see my sword lying there quietly.

That sword is also one of my family heirlooms. My grandfather used it in battle. It is said that he served a knight as a squire for some time, and this sword was given to him by the knight master--

The sword should be of the thirty-two year standard, with the imprint of ivy on the sword, to commemorate the victory of the battle of Golan-Elsen Plateau.

I remember that year His Majesty changed the standard of the cavalry long sword, changing the length of the sword from the original two arms to one and a half arms, and the bronze ornaments on the handguards were also replaced by ordinary iron flowers, this is to save money cost to accommodate the prolonged 'November War'.

Yes, it was a cavalry sword.

Hmm, just wait until I get that sword—

"Madara bastards, it's your turn to be unlucky—"