The Legend of Fatality

Chapter 164: Errors in the song

Robert did his best to maintain his noble and majestic manners, and walked out of the small hotel lobby full of drunken villagers, which took all his physical strength, and filled the stomach with wine between his chest and abdomen. Shaking with the pace, but his pride made him suppress all discomfort.

He tried to adjust his condition, pretending to be a wooden staircase in the dark corridor. After he adjusted it, he stepped up the wooden staircase leading to the private room on the top floor of the hotel, but he kept complaining about this **** The country hotel did not install handrails for the stairs.

The fat owner of provides the best room for his talented guests. Just like the tin wine glasses used by Robert for drinking, this room on the top floor of the hotel is usually reserved for wandering knights and other rare and noble guests.

The room is very spacious, the old floor is hidden under various animal skins and worn carpets. The furniture is heavily painted to protect them from the effects of slow corrosion to prevent it from being like the rest of the hotel.

There is also a large bed here, which seems to be enough for a knight to sleep with his horse. Robert looked at the bed and laughed. He reached out to the uneven wool blanket on the bed, and then touched the bulging pillow stuffed with feathers.

ァ 新 ヤ ~ ⑧ ~ 1 ~ 中文 网 ωωω.χ ~ ⒏ ~ 1zщ.còм

The fat hotel owner tried to create the luxury that nobles might expect in this small hotel VIP room, but with little success. This is almost a ridiculous and sad thing.

Robert walked over and sat alone by the bed, taking off his boots. Although the bed is uneven, he still welcomes the efforts of the fat boss to enjoy.

When a cold chill caught him, the smile on the poet's face suddenly disappeared. Robert shuddered all over his body, a primitive, unreasonable fear that made him stand up again before he realized his movements. He licked his lips nervously, his fingers crushing the velvety surface of the boot, and dragged the boot off the floor, holding it in his hand like a stick.

Robert's eyes stared at the darkness, and his breathing became more and more rapid. As a child, he was trapped in a salt pit with a hungry weasel and was forced to spend the night with the predator in the dark, waiting for his chance to attack him.

The memory of fear in the past is now back in his heart, pressing his heart in a cold hug, letting pure horror tendrils crawl around in his body.

He could see nothing in the dark room, but like the farmers who ventured into the night, he knew there was something there. He didn't need to see or hear it to know it was there. He can feel it, feel its threat, feel its evil potential.

At this time, the silver moonlight spilled into Robert's room. In order to further entertain guests, so that guests can look out from the hotel, the only glass window in the entire hotel is in this room.

The sudden light turned Robert back, and made his eyes look out into the night. He could see the shadows of rows of thatched cottages in the village, and the shimmering water of the Odur River in the distance.

In addition to this, it is more that he can see the darkness in the forest. The formidable outline extends far away from the river bank. A wall made of evil dark shadows is a barrier between the human realm and the night. .

Robert shivered again and turned away from the window, so that he no longer looked at the night scene, trying to dispel the terrible imagination in his mind. When he turned his attention back to his own room, all the blood on his face disappeared.

A black shadow stood in another corner of the room, a tall shadow, he dared to swear that this shadow had never appeared before. Robert trembled and tried to look away from there, trying to tell himself that there was nothing there.

He suddenly had a strong urge to get under the blanket and bury his face, hoping that the ghost would disappear. He stubbornly tried to maintain his reason, telling himself that there would be nothing there. However, the longer he stared at that shadowy corner, the weaker the effort to deny fear. With every breath, Robert could imagine more details.

He felt that he saw the shadow of his head and shoulders covered by a long black cloak. Where there should be a face, he saw fierce red eyes staring at him from the darkness.

As the shadow began to move outward from its corner, the bard tried desperately to convince himself that it was his imagination. He was choked with the smell of carrion, and when he heard the pedaling of armored boots on the floor, he shivered.

Robert flinched in front of the terrible figure, trying to break free from the shadow's oppression, but the tears of fear ran down his face. Now, he can see that the shadow is wearing gorgeously carved armor, its style is outdated, and it seems that it was made in a long time.

He could see the huge, slightly curved sword, whose hilt was carved into the shape of a skull, swinging on the side of the man's body. A pale and thin face appeared in the darkness, and red eyes were still staring at the flinching bard.

A cruel smile distorted the inhuman face, sharp teeth like spikes emerged from the shriveled lips. Fortunately, when the moon receded behind the clouds, Robert hadn't had time to see anything, and the room fell into darkness again. However, the shadow's red eyes continued to maintain its brightness in the dark.

There was a voice in the darkness, thin and fierce, like the sound of a mouse claws grabbing a coffin.

"Don't be afraid," said the voice.

"Sit down and don't worry. At least tonight, in the whole kingdom, you are safer than anyone else."

In any case, Robert managed to find the edge of his bed and sat carefully on it.

There is a convincing thing in that sinister voice, an arrogant and arrogant temperament that cannot be resisted. Robert knew he couldn't resist obeying its orders, just as ants couldn't resist the hoof of a cow.

"I have come a long way to listen to your song," said something in the dark. "If this offends me, I would have spread your gut from the hill to this quiet village ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ When this threat came out, it almost turned into a roar of the beast. Robert There is no doubt at all whether this creature has the ability to do such a horrible thing on him. He has learned enough knowledge in this life to know what it is, what horror power the vampire has, and can control it .

Vampires let those threatening words linger, seeming to taste the fear of the troubadour. It seemed that after a long time, when Robert thought it would last forever, the guy spoke again.

"The story is very good," the vampire admitted. "I heard your song under the roof. Even this death heart was moved by your song."

Robert tried to stammer to say something thankful, anything that might trigger the humanity possessed by the vampire. A dry cough was the only sound that could barely climb up the troubadour's paralyzed throat.

His uninvited visitors ignored his futile remarks. It's not here to chat with the minstrel.

"Your ballad has many defects." The vampire hissed. "The dead have their pride. I will point out your mistakes so you can correct them. The next time I hear you sing this story, I may be proud of its accuracy.

"First of all, Charlie Lancaster did not kill the Duke of Blood Eagle in Cam Ranfield." The vampire said, his voice full of hatred.

"That battle is not the end of the Duke of Blood Eagle. Really, maybe for him, this is just a new beginning?"

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