Chapter 306 Darkness 3

This scene was seen by everyone, and they were all shocked.

They glanced at Jilan, and they did not expect that the captain would send William to the battlefield in such a simple and crude way.

The boy with blood on his body and face pulled out the sword with force, and then carefully aimed it at the throat of the refugee. In the other party's horrified eyes and whispers for mercy, he stabbed without hesitation.

Puff!

William took a few deep breaths, and his little hand holding the sword trembled slightly.

This was his first time killing someone, but he was not afraid.

Because he knew better than anyone that if he didn't kill someone, he would be killed by others...

"Teacher! How did I perform?"

William calmed down and turned his head to look behind him. However, he found that Teacher Jilan showed a trace of disappointment on his face.

The boy's heart sank.

Why...

Why is the teacher so disappointed in me?

The next second.

On the side behind William, another refugee appeared, and the pitchfork in his hand stabbed the boy's back of the head!

"Little bastard, go to hell!"

William turned his head suddenly, looking at the rusty pitchfork that was gradually getting bigger, and his face changed.

Bang! !

However, William only felt his vision flicker.

A gust of wind accompanied by a muffled sound, the refugee holding the pitchfork flew backwards, flipped seven or eight meters in the air, and slid to the ground.

There was already a figure of a blond young man in front of him.

"Old... teacher, thank you."

William thanked him with lingering fear.

"Fighting is not a child's play, you can't be careless at all."

Jilan said lightly.

William was startled, and he understood why the teacher showed disappointment in him just now.

He lowered his head quickly and said seriously:

"Yes, I know!"

"Give me the sword." Gilan stretched out his hand.

William handed the iron sword over obediently.

Swoosh! !

There was only a crisp clang.

William felt a cold light flash in his sight.

The teacher had already stepped seven or eight meters away without knowing when. The iron sword in his hand was as light as a piece of paper. He swung several swords in the blink of an eye.

The piercing whistle that broke through the air made his scalp numb.

The afterimage drew several beautiful trajectories, leaving a hexagram symbol in the boy's sight.

Puff puff puff! !

The six armed refugees fell almost at the same time.

There was a sword cut on their throats, piercing through, and blood flowed out. The wrist, forearm and upper arm were divided into four sections, without any difference.

The blond young man stood upright, without a drop of blood on his body.

Swoosh-clang!

The simple iron sword turned a circle in his hand, and suddenly swung it, blood beads splashed out in an arc trajectory... and the sword body regained its shiny luster.

"Run!"

"Don't kill me!"

In an instant, the refugees who were fighting with the guards exploded and there was an uproar. Such a shocking killing directly defeated their rationality, and they turned around and ran away in a mess.

Everyone in the caravan was stunned.

And the young William, looking at the figure of his teacher, felt his heart surge. A trace of longing and respect flashed in his eyes.

…

…

The caravan continued to travel north.

On the way, they would stop in various villages and towns. The flour, spices and furs originally transported had already been sold out. The steward bought some local specialties and sold them further north.

This went back and forth to earn the difference.

This is the process of the trade route in today's era.

It takes almost several months or even half a year for one trip.

At the same time, this is also the longest time in Gillan's movie-watching experience. Although "Pan" spans ten years, it is skipped in the form of transitions, which is completely different from his personal experience.

In the end, the caravan successfully arrived at the Percy Merchant Alliance, a neutral area north of the Kingdom of Rongdeng and the Kingdom of Sakya.

For some reason, Gillan always felt that this business alliance was most likely the predecessor of the real-life imperial colony "Bosivia".

Both the name and the geographical location were very similar.

After arriving at a hub town called "Florian" in the Bosi Business Alliance, Gillan finally welcomed a transition in the film.

This transition spanned five years.

From the flashing images, it can be seen that during this period, William Gerard had been practicing with Gillan, and officially joined the mercenary team, moving around in various caravans.

At the age of twelve, he already had the strength of a senior mercenary, which was converted into the judging standard of the real empire, that is, the instructor level, and he practiced both fighting and swordsmanship.

Five years later, William, who is already fifteen years old, has reached an exaggerated master level.

He is well-known in various caravans of the Bosi Business Alliance.

It was also at this stage that the story had an important turning point...

Gillan's consciousness flickered.

He found himself suddenly in a theater.

The walls and roofs were all made of stone and wood. On the simple wooden platform, a play called "Don Quixote" was being performed.

The story tells that the elderly squire Don Quixote was fascinated by reading knight novels and imagined himself as a knight-errant. He led the skinny horse at home as a mount, persuaded the farmer to be his servant, and took a sharpened broom as a spear, embarking on an adventure of helping the weak and fighting the strong.

Gillan frowned as he watched the poor performance of the actors on the stage.

He was familiar with this story, which was a classic work that had appeared in his previous life.

'Is it the October Apostle "Dai Shen Song" again...? '

Just as Gillan was thinking.

"Good!"

"Good kill!!"

"Wow!"

"Wow! Don Quixote!"

The crowd around him suddenly cheered excitedly, men raised their fists and shouted, women even pulled off their headscarves and waved them in their hands, applauding continuously.

The smell of sweat and various heat waves hit him in the face.

Only then did Gilan notice that the story performed on the stage was actually completely different from what he remembered.

Don Quixote was not a fantasy at all!

This is not an absurd play!

It is a heroic epic...

In this play, Don Quixote seems to have a God-given power called "divine revelation". As long as he does something influential and records it, he will gain magical powers and continue to become stronger.

The "giant" killed by Don Quixote is not a windmill, the "enemy army" defeated is not a flock of sheep, and the "princess" saved is not the "peasant woman" in fantasy...

They are all real!

Gillan watched the play, and was deeply shocked when Don Quixote ended the war with his own strength and ascended to heaven after being summoned by the gods...

This was not the Don Quixote in his impression at all!

The story was subverted and adapted!

And, there was a sense of familiarity and déjà vu that Gillan could not describe...

'Why does it look so much like the plot of the previous life? ! '

Gillan was stunned.

After the worn red curtain was drawn, a middle-aged bald man who looked like the theater owner walked up to the stage with a fake smile and opened his arms and said:

"Another wonderful play, thanks to the youngest and most talented artistic genius in our city of Florian, Clark Smith."

"Don Quixote has been printed into a hundred sets of collection books, sewn with goat hair and cowhide, and signed by Clark..."

"Of course, the work he painted for his mother, Mona Lisa, will also be auctioned next week. Everyone is welcome to come and support it."

"As for the music and sculptures you are looking forward to, you will have to wait until next month..."

Listening to the host's words, Gillan's stunned expression became more and more obvious.

Who is this Clark?

An all-rounder in art?

And what the hell is Mona Lisa?

His mother? !

Gillan's mind was a little confused.

At this time, he suddenly noticed that William, who was already a fifteen-year-old boy, flashed through the small door on the side of the stage.

Gillan thought for a moment and squeezed through the crowd to go over there.

"Excuse me, please let me pass."

"What for?!"

"Hey! You guy..."

He was strong and pushed the crowd away with a wave of his hand, causing a burst of shouting and cursing.

But when the people around saw Gillan in leather armor and carrying a long sword, they soon fell silent, fearing that they would anger him and get killed.

Gillan calmly glanced at the group of spectators and walked away without looking back.

When he lifted the curtain and walked in, he came to a simple backstage with several upright wooden boards supported by wooden stakes, and there were two rooms inside.

Gillan took a step and just approached a room near the inside, he heard the conversation of two young people.

"Clark, you are really amazing. Just writing something and painting a picture is comparable to what I have been busy doing outside for more than half a year..."

William's tone was quite envious and admiring.

"No."

At this time, a humble and gentle male voice sounded.

However, it sounded muffled, as if there was a thick layer of glass between them.

"I envy you, William. You are so strong at such a young age... Last time, thanks to you for helping me drive away those bastards who value money over life, otherwise my small body would be in trouble."

"We are friends, it should be."

William chuckled.

"By the way, Clark, why do you always wear this round iron helmet? Are you afraid of being beheaded by a sharp sword in the dark? But your glass mask is too fragile, and its protective ability is not good..."

"You are talking about this, ha, it is not a combat protective gear... Well, you can't understand it even if I tell you. This is just a dream of mine."

"Dream?" William said. "What is a dream...?"

"Dream is the inner desire, the career that you are willing to devote your life to pursue."

"Then my dream is to end the war and unify the world like the 'Don Quixote' in your writing."

"Hahaha..."

"My dream is ridiculous, right?"

"No." Clark said in a muffled voice, with a serious tone. "I think you can, absolutely... This dark age should be ended by you."

"Thank you."

William was quite touched and asked:

"What is your dream?"

"My dream is to go to the universe... Ahem, to the world in heaven."

"The world in heaven? You mean outside the mortal world? That's where the gods are... Do you want to be a god?"

William said jokingly.

Unexpectedly, Clark was silent for a while and chuckled:

"Why not?"

"I also plan to integrate the seven arts and create something called 'movies' to record our stories."

"Finally, when I travel around the sky, I will share it with all the friends I meet..."