The Divine Hunter

The latest website: The pale yellow light group is suspended in the sky, spilling warm and warm sunlight.

The wind blows from the vast plain,

A carriage full of "guests" was heading for a peaceful and lively town along a gravel path among the dense bushes and low stone walls.

Said to be a horse-drawn cart, it is actually much simpler than that - a trolley that is usually used to pull hay, firewood and other goods.

Moreover, it is not young, its color is mottled, its body is covered with broken wood thorns, and even the boards on both sides have cracks. The wheels run over the soil and stones and make a continuous screeching noise, as if it is about to stay in place anytime, anywhere. disintegration.

The man driving in front was wearing a brown old sleeveless leather jacket and leather helmet, with a serious expression and a sword at his waist.

There were five prisoners sitting on the chairs in the back car - his wrists were tightly bound with rough and tough hemp ropes, and one of them was even sealed with white rags along with his mouth.

Freen is one of the prisoners.

He is strong, with black hair, brown eyes, a very simple face, and his appearance is the same, and his character is honest and simple.

He didn't understand that he was an ordinary village boy who was just strolling around in the wild. How could he be caught by a group of heavily armed imperial soldiers, tied to a carriage and headed west.

Where are they taking me and for what purpose?

"You goddamn stormcloaks, Skyrim would be safe without you. Wouldn't it be nice if the emperor was far away?!"

The sloppy man in yellow linen trousers full of holes and patches, who was sitting opposite, denounced angrily, with a very unwilling expression on his thin face, "If they hadn't been hunting down the rebels, I would have been there long ago. You can steal a horse and go to Hammerfall, maybe it's almost here now!"

"Hey, and you, the sleeping kid on your left," he said to Freen, "the three of us shouldn't be here, those Stormcloak rebels are what the Empire wants to catch!"

Freen nodded sympathetically. As a lonely homeless man, he had heard of the name Stormcloak, but had never seen it.

Before that, he had always thought that those who rebelled against the Empire were far away from him.

I didn't expect to meet like this,

He was also captured by the Imperial soldiers as his accomplices of the Stormcloak!

This group of people seems to be no different from ordinary people. What gave them the courage to rebel against the empire?

Isn't it good to farm hard?

Freen turned his eyes to the left, where a strange young man was falling asleep leaning on his shoulder,

Unusually handsome, with smooth and delicate skin, he always felt smoother to the touch than the prettiest woman in their town.

Freen was also keenly aware that the tips of his ears, hidden by his black hair, seemed to have a bit of non-Nord ancestry.

This beautiful boy was just as unlucky as himself, perhaps because he fell into a coma in that wild country because of a disease, and was caught over to make up the count.

"The thief, we are brothers and sisters on the same boat now! Instead of complaining to each other, it is better to hurry up and make more friends, I am afraid there will be no chance in the future." Another man with straw-like messy and dry blond hair, deep facial features, a genuine storm The cloak retorted dissatisfiedly, and glanced at the people on the scooter, "My name is Larov, how about everyone?"

"Kroll!" The yellow-haired gangster raised his head beside him, "Hey, country boy, what's your name?"

"Frien."

"Where's the one next to you? Wake him up!"

"Clap clap..."

Freen patted the man's face lightly, but he didn't respond.

"It's a blessing to be able to sleep at such a time, so let him be happy. What's going on with this guy? The 'care' he received is even more grand than ours." He was wearing silver chain mail, and behind his back was a man with a black-haired cloak and an extraordinary bearing.

"Respect your mouth!" Larov reprimanded. "You are talking to Ulfric Stormcloak, who is the real High King!"

"Ulfric? The legendary lord of Windhelm City, the leader of that group of rebels? Even you were caught." Kroll's face turned snow-white, "We are sitting with the most wanted criminal in the empire, we are going to Where, you won't be beheading, will you?"

Larov looked calm, "I feel that the Hall of Valor is waiting for my generous sacrifice."

"Shor, Mara, Tibera, Kanares, Akatosh... Gods, save me!"

...

"Hiss..." Freen sucked in a breath of cold air, buzzing in his head.

"We're going to the guillotine?" He couldn't believe it, "No, I'm innocent! I have nothing to do with the Stormcloak! I've been working hard to live in accordance with the law, what did I do wrong? !"

"Imperial soldiers don't care so much!" Kroll sighed with a sympathetic look on his face,

"I'm not married, I don't have a son and a half daughter, I'm even worse!"

The next discussion between the sloppy man and the blond man, Freen couldn't hear a word again.

He stared blankly at a place not far away.

The carriage drove into the narrow lane surrounded by two stone walls and yellow wooden shacks, and entered a simple but peaceful town, surrounded by a circle of green vegetable fields and mottled stone walls, and there were houses built of thatch and wood everywhere.

The carriage slowly drove along the slope among the houses to the center of the town, in front of the tallest cylindrical tower.

The playful children chasing the dog stood in front of the door of their house, pointing at the carriage. If there were vegetables, leaves, rocks, etc., they would undoubtedly throw them over.

And the blond-haired Stormcloak Ralof looked around like he was traveling, and reminisced about the past leisurely.

"This is Holy Land Town. I still have an old friend here. I wonder if Verode is still brewing mead mixed with gin."

"Anyway, you won't have a chance to drink!" The yellow-clothed gangster cursed.

"Caz..." The wheels stopped turning.

"Wait, why did the carriage stop?" His tone was full of fear.

"You still don't understand? Let's go," Larov smiled and got up. "You can't let the heroic spirits wait for us for too long."

Ulfric, who was sitting at the outermost position, got off the carriage first, and soldiers from all directions threw their gazes towards him.

They wore leather armor with exposed arms, leather battle skirts above the knees on their lower bodies, cold wind blowing from their calves, swords on their waists, and long bows on their backs.

The two soldiers closest to the carriage, the woman on the left who was obviously the captain, wore a more gorgeous and mighty silver plate armor and steel boots.

The man on the right drew a "x" on the brown-covered book with a quill. As the Lord of Windhelm approached, he said aloud, "Ulfric Stormcloak!"

When the man heard his name, he strode past the female captain and the secretary, and walked towards the guillotine in front of the rough tower on the side.

His eyes were as firm as ever.

"This is my honor, Lord Ulfric!" Larov, who had been chattering before, shouted at his back like a salute, sending him away.

"Ralof from Ximu Town!" After the secretary read it, he looked deeply at the blond-haired man.

The latter turned a blind eye, held his head high, as if to accept the supreme honor, and followed in Ulfric's footsteps.

The clerk shook his head imperceptibly, took a deep breath,

"Rocker of Lolic Town!"

The yellow-clothed bastard looked around nervously,

"You know what? You are so wrong, I'm not a rebel, you can't kill me!"

He let out a hysterical roar, ran straight past the female captain in shiny silver armor, and rushed into the distance.

"Whoosh-"

After a slight sound of breaking through the air, Locker, who ran less than ten meters away, fell head-on, with an arrow stuck in his back, breathing weakly.

"Now, who else likes to taste the taste of arrows?" The female captain asked with a sneer, her eyes terrifyingly cold.

Freen's thoughts that had just arisen disappeared instantly, he swallowed his saliva like a cicada, and a tangled look appeared on his face.

Compared to being pierced by an arrow, it may be more pleasant to cut in two?

He glanced at the handsome man leaning on his shoulder, his breathing began to increase, his eyelashes trembled, and there was a hint of waking up.

Use him as a shield?

"You, and the strange guy next to you... let him raise his face, tsk tsk..." Secretary Hadawa interrupted his fantasy, glanced at the pages of the book, and glanced over the faces of the two in surprise, and so on again and again, "Captain, the two of them are not on the arrest list, do you want to go back?"

"Don't care about the list," the female captain said decisively, "Pull it down and cut it all down!"

"Well...I see," Hadawa turned to the two with apologetic eyes, "I'm sorry, two, but at least you can die in your hometown! Help your brother beside you, but don't wake him, just let him Rest in peace without knowing it."

No, he's not my brother, I'm running away!

Freen growled in his heart.

However, around a dozen soldiers holding bows, those piercing eyes pierced his hands and feet like needles.

He turned pale with fear, and followed the captain to the execution ground.

A dozen or so prisoners waiting to die formed a circle, and Freen helped the man who was still asleep to the end.

And Ulfric stood at the forefront, an old man with thinning hair and a weather-beaten cheek, judging him in a victorious tone, "Ulfric Stormcloak, there are people in Holy Land who are putting you on trial. Called heroes, but heroes will not use their 'dragon roar' to usurp the throne and kill our High King!"

The tall lord of Fengrudder City, like a dog whose neck was pinched and his mouth clamped, let out a low growl of dissatisfaction in his throat.

"You started this civil war, which plunged Skyrim into a rebellion, implicated countless innocents, and your crimes are innumerable. And now, I declare that the Empire will destroy you and restore peace to Skyrim!"

Suddenly, several people present raised their heads and stared at the empty top of their heads.

They seemed to hear some strange noise coming from there.

"What is that?" Clerk Hadawa muttered to himself, staring at the sky.

"Nothing can save him! Continue the execution!" The old man waved his hand and quickly went to the edge of the execution ground.

Beside the muscular executioner with the axe, the priestess in the dark golden silk robe and the hood began to recite the prayer aloud,

"Send your souls to the realm of the gods, pray to the noble eight holy spirits, you are the salt and soil of Nairn, our beloved..."

"It's the Nine Holy Spirits! Where did you put the great Talos?! Stop reading and give me a good time!"

Freen was surprised to find a stormcloak soldier wearing a blue cape, strode away from the ranks of the death row prisoners, passed his own lord Ulfric, and went straight to the guillotine to lead his death!

Or rather, rush to die.

That green face looked like he was just twenty years old. He really regarded death as home, or did he have any purpose?

"My ancestors are welcoming me with open arms, the imperial soldiers who have turned their backs on Talos, do you have any?" The Stormcloak's neck was placed on the rough and cold guillotine, and he still spoke generously.

"Crack..."

The executioner with the long-handled axe raised his knife and dropped it.

The soldier moved his head directly, and the blood gushing between his glaring head and neck rolled down into the rectangular groove in front of the guillotine.

"No, God!"

The bloody scene made Freen and several prisoners around him pray in despair.

Who's next turn?

Suddenly Freen's shoulders trembled, the unconscious man was pushed out by some cheap prisoner, and the soldiers immediately put him on the guillotine.

Freen's face was painful, "Sorry, man, I can't save myself, I can't save you!"

The executioner raised the long-handled axe, making an obvious inhalation and charging motion.

The axe blade was raised in the air and aimed at the man's neck and was about to fall.

Shocked apprentice!

"Roar…"

"Lorda!"

Suddenly, there was a breathtaking loud noise in the sky, as if a thousand small knives were drilled into people's ears.

The executioner couldn't help but slow down, put down his axe and turned to look around.

The people in the execution ground also raised their heads, their faces puzzled.

"What the hell is that?"

There were exclamations, and a behemoth drilled out of the clouds in the blue sky. It stretched out a pair of wings that were as dark as night, and while fluttering across the sky, it cast a terrifying shadow on the ground.

Its huge wings flapped once, twice, and suddenly shot straight into the sky, and each time it flapped, it flew several miles away, and then swooped down!

Shadows covered everyone, the temperature seemed to drop a few degrees suddenly, and people began to chatter.

"Sentry, what did you see?!" the young general shouted.

"Boom!"

There was a sudden muffled sound, and a circle of yellow-brown dust shook off the side of the stone tower. A terrifying creature with dark scales and scales instantly fell to the top of the tower, entrenched on it, and its huge body directly pressed the sentry into a meat pie. Two wings with bone spurs wrapped around the lower half of the building.

The snake-like long neck poked forward, revealing a terrifying head with thick black scales, long horns, horny skin, and beast vertical pupils!

"dragon!"

Some of the soldiers shouted in horror.

"Roar!" The terrifying giant responded with a battle roar, making people shudder!

Its roar is full of a great power, as if it can command all things in the world, and the situation changes in an instant, and the clear sky suddenly turns orange-red, and splendid clouds of fire emerge.

They are spinning like a whirlpool.

rotate.

Immediately afterwards, the overwhelming meteor shower flew out of the clouds, drawing bright arcs in the sky.

come down!

"Boom!"

Sparks splattered, smoke billowed.

The small and exquisite thatched huts in Holy Land Town suddenly burst into flames, and prisoners, soldiers, and ordinary townspeople on the side of the execution ground were all trapped in them.

Many unlucky ghosts were directly smashed into scorched corpses by the falling flame meteorite!

"Lorda!"

The giant dragon on the stone pagoda opened its bloody mouth and screamed at the crowd.

A burst of invisible air turbulence swept through, overturning all the soldiers beside the execution ground to the ground, and the originally tragic and solemn execution ground was instantly chaotic.

"What are you waiting for, guys! A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, run away with me!" Ulfric led the shouting Ralof and several storm cloaks into the tower under the dragon.

Freen just wanted to follow, but he noticed that the strange man was still leaning against the guillotine with his neck outstretched. If he ignored it, he had no reason to survive!

"Oh shit!"

Frien gritted his teeth and made a decision that he boasted countless times in the future. He wrapped his hands tied with ropes around the man's neck and dragged him into the tower together like a dog.

"breathe…"

Freen bent down, panting violently, his eyes rolling from exhaustion.

Damn it, his more than ten years of life combined are not as exciting as what he saw today.

It's another giant dragon in transit, another meteor shower, and a storm cloak.

He also risked his life to save a strange man.

He could almost imagine decades later, sitting on the sofa by the campfire, telling these legendary experiences to his grandchildren on his lap.

But enough so far.

No matter how dangerous he is, he is not a legend, but he can't breathe.

...

When he looked around the whole hall, his expression changed.

Ralof of Creekwood Town, Ulfric, the lord of Windhelm City, and a few grumbling Stormcloak soldiers under his command, there was not a single Imperial man present, and he entered the den of thieves.

"Lord Ulfric? With your knowledge, do you know what that is? Is the legend true?" Larov asked in shock, picking up a sword on the ground and severing Freen's wrist. rope.

"Legends won't raze towns to the ground!" The lord's calm and magnetic voice rang out, his face still calm. "That thing will destroy the tower sooner or later. Don't stay here for long, go, find a way out of town!"

After he finished speaking, he rushed up to the tower first.

"Boy, your name is Frien, right?" Larov turned around and smiled at the stunned young man.

"What's your brother called?"

"..."

"I saw it just now, you're so interesting to him! You can't protect yourself, and you still don't give up on him. He's a real man!" Larov praised and patted him on the shoulder, "Let's go, go upstairs, we'll take you with us leave!"

As Larov spoke, he walked along the spiral escalator at the edge of the tower to the second floor.

And Frien thought about it, under the current situation, he seemed to have no choice, and there was no reason for the Stormcloak to harm such a small scoundrel.

He helped the man to climb up again with difficulty.

This violent turbulence, coupled with the chaotic noise outside the tower, the sound of meteorites hitting the ground and roof, the whirring of the turbulent air flow... all kinds of conditions.

The man finally let out a grunt and opened his eyes.

Freen glanced around, and suddenly found a pair of dark gold and silver gray vertical pupils slowly turning.

He said something he didn't understand at all.

Then a suffocating shadow appeared outside the hole and enveloped the two of them.