The Last Frontier of Fire and Sword

　　Suddenly, the young officer's knife had to be lifted over his head before he could get out of the sheath, blocking Pidro's blow.

　　 Click. Pidro's hand sank vigorously, and the young officer's scabbard suddenly shattered into countless pieces.

　　 But the officer was not an easy one. Under the sudden attack, his cavalry knife blocked the attack with half of the sword in his hand, and then followed the edge of the half sword in his hand and drew towards Pidro's sword holding hands.

　　 If this blow is successful, Pidro's wrist will be severed. As a last resort, Pidro had to rotate the blade to block the blow with the half-sword guard.

　　 After the first round, the two seem to be evenly matched.

　　 This blow was Pidro's anger-carrying blow. Seeing no success, Pidro also calmed down a bit. But he didn't intend to stop. Pidro knew that he had no retreat from the moment he slashed the sword-the opponent was a Polish officer, and he must have brought a lot of people this time. People like Fidel would have no problem fighting robbers with him. If it was against the officers and soldiers, they would have neither the ability nor the courage. In this battle, whether you lose or win yourself is a dead end.

　　 "It turns out that this is the place where our uncle and nephew's bones are buried." At the thought of this, Pidro couldn't help showing a wry smile. But although his mind turned a few times, there was no delay in the sword in his hand. This half-sword in his hand stabbed left and right, slashed up and down, and was inseparable from the officer's vitals.

　　 The officer swung the cavalry knife to the left and right, only to parry, but not to fight back. He was able to block Pidro's first blow, which was already extremely difficult; the counterattack after the block had consumed his great energy. Every subsequent blow by Pidro made his arm sore.

　　 During this period, the young officer's men had long raised their guns to force Fidel and the others, and Fidel and the others were indeed as Pedro expected, even though they had weapons in their hands, they did not dare to make any movements.

　　 A few soldiers still wanted to aim at Pidro, but Pidro was a bit wide and fat, but he was extremely agile. He kept changing his footwork and wrestling with the young officer to prevent them from having a chance to aim.

　　 Finally, Pidro's hand half-sword cut off the young officer's cavalry knife, and put the sword across his neck. With the hostages in hand, Pidro was even more calm.

　　 Those soldiers are also rat-throwing devices. Although the guns in their hands have not been put down, they all looked at each other, not knowing what to do.

　　 "You said, are those things stolen?" Piedro asked sternly.

　　 "Of course they are stolen goods. Although you have defeated me, you can't change this fact." Unexpectedly, the young officer faced the sword across his neck without the slightest fear.

　　 "As long as you return the things to us, I will let you go. As if today's things have not happened." Piedro said again. In his opinion, this young man must be an aristocrat when he became an officer at such a young age. The nobles all want face, and they can exchange anything for the sake of face.

　　 "No, I will never make unjust transactions in exchange for my life." The young officer shook his head firmly. Then, he said to his men: "Don't take into account my life and death, and arrest these people who provoke the Republican army."

　　 "Are you a German?" Unexpectedly, this young officer was so "axed", Piedro asked with some uncertainty. He traveled north and south for many years in his early years, and he had seen Germans, French, Hungarians and Turks, but only Germans were so stern and unflexible.

　　 "No, I'm Spanish." The young officer said to himself.

　　 "We are also Spanish." Ruth said with some surprise. He didn't expect this officer to be his compatriot

　　 "Are you Spanish too?" the young officer asked uncertainly.

　　 "Yeah, yeah." Fidel and others also repeatedly admitted. Then, I also spoke a few words of native dialects and slang in my hometown.

　　 "My name is Aragon." The young officer gradually believed, he introduced himself. "I am a lieutenant of the Smolensk Mercenary Corps. Our regiment is Lieutenant Colonel Franco."

　　 After introducing himself, Aragorn continued: "For the sake of my compatriots, I don’t care about today’s things. But I have to take those things back. They are all possessed."

　　 "These things are related to my nephew's life." Pidro also put down his sword, and he briefly talked about the cause and effect of the incident.

　　 "I sympathize with your experience. But this is beyond my authority. Let me take you to see our head. He is also in Zamosya today." Aragorn said.

　　Pidro nodded in agreement. He put away the sword and hung it on his waist again.

　　 "Pidro!"

　　 "Franco!"

　　Unexpectedly, when Pidro and the head of Franco met, they stared with big eyes. Then, there was a burst of cheerful laughter. The difference is that Pidro laughed more bohemian, but Franco was serious in joy and tried to maintain his head.

　　 The two are actually old acquaintances.

　　 "Pidro, didn't you go back to Spain? Why are you back?" After smiling, Franco asked Pidro.

　　 "The money is spent. There is no other ability, so I have to pick up the sword again." Pidro summed up the reason for his re-emergence.

　　 "What about you? I remember that when I left, didn't you continue to stay in the ring mercenary group? Why did you become the leader here?"

　　 At this question, Franco's face suddenly became painful. As if remembering the painful past. He bit his lip tightly, not even knowing it was broken.

　　 "What's wrong? Old friend." Seeing Franco's expression, Pidro also had a bad feeling.

　　 "There is no ring mercenary group anymore." This sentence, UU reading www. uukanshu.com Franco almost finished the word by word.

　　 "What's the matter? Where's Captain Long Jingen? And First Mate William and Cyclops Kenan..." Pidro asked anxiously. He and Franco have been in the Ring Mercenary Group for seven years, and everyone in the group has a deep relationship, but now he is suddenly anxious when he hears bad news.

　　 "This is not a place to talk. I'll talk to you when I get back to Smolensk. Oh, yes. Why are you here, and come here with Aragorn."

　　 Franco didn't want to say more here, he turned the subject away and asked.

　　 Then, Pidro said briefly about Chelchen again.

　　 "That's it." After listening to the old friend's account, Franco turned around.

　　 "Lieutenant Aragon." Franco looked serious.

　　 "Yes, sir." Lieutenant Aragon replied with salute.

　　 "Lieutenant, what is our purpose here?"

　　 "Send us to collect food."

　　 "Will we then retrieve the lost property for those suffering masters?"

　　 "No. But..."

　　 "Nothing. Since the lord has given the order, we should follow the order. Whatever the order requires us to do, just do it."

"Yes, sir."

　　 "This kid really looks like you when you were young." Aragorn left, Piedro said to Franco.

　　 "People in the regiment call him ‘Little German’. But I hope he can be more flexible." Franco said with emotion. His previous nickname was "German". Seeing Aragon is like seeing yourself when you were young.

　　Pidro recovered his belongings and saw his old friend in a good mood. He wanted to tease a few more words. At this time, Cheerchen's shout came from outside.

　　 "Uncle Pidro, Uncle Pidro."