The Legend of Fatality

Ricky Rubio leaned heavily on his seat. He was sore all over. A terrible pain swept over his right hand, and a thick bandage wrapped around his right arm. Now he is scarred and exhausted. But he has not felt so good for a long time.

In front of him, the captain of the cavalry led by the Fatalin Association moaned on the ground. The man is waking up. His eyes blinked and opened sharply. He raised his head and lowered his head again, the pain made him grimace.

"Welcome back, Captain." Rubio said sarcastically. "You have been in a coma for a while."

Martin Bertini wanted to stand up again, but was restrained by chains. He was tied to a heavy wooden chair. The two of them sat alone in a tent in the camp. Dirty straw was scattered on the floor, and the narrow ground occasionally exposed was covered with dust and dirt.

Outside the tent, you can hear the sound of drinking and having fun. Rubio's soldiers fought hard, and many people died. It's hard enough to smash Bren Bertini's cavalry charge, but it's unbelievable to go back and take back the camp square. This is a victory, this day will always remain in people's memories. All the sweat and hard work paid is ultimately worthwhile.

Rubio got up from his chair, holding a bottle of spirits made from Fatalin potatoes in one hand. He reached out to the captain, raised his dangling head, and pressed the hip flask to his lips. Martin Bertini struggled and swallowed, but swallowed some hard liquor.

"You should drink some wine," Rubio said flatly. "This will reduce the pain."

Martin Bertini gave him a scornful look. But his loose eyes were at least in focus. The hard liquor apparently awakened him.

"My people ..." He hoarse his throat, his voice dry.

Rubio sat down again, half lying comfortably on the chair. It would be a rare pleasure to interrogate this person who caused him so much pain, although not as real as the enemy. But he will take it slowly.

"Escaped into the forest," he said simply. "I am always amazed by the ability of the commander of the Fatalin Association. But once we have you, everything will start to get better. To be honest, you are really brave, captain. Brave, but too reckless. You need twice It ’s only because of your existing manpower that you should attack. "

Martin Bertini looked very uncomfortable and hung his head down.

"Can you tell me your name?" Rubio said, then raised his hand holding the hip flask and took a sip of wine.

Martin Bertini didn't answer immediately, but then raised his tired head.

"Martin Bertini, member of the Cavalry of the Guard of the Fatalin Association. You must be Ricky Rubio, the traitor."

Rubio frowned.

"That is my name, although I am not a traitor."

Martin Bertini looked at him contemptuously.

"You are both a thief and a murderer. Sooner or later you will be hanged with your gang of people. I am not afraid of you. Come on, kill me, and more people will come."

Rubio was full of anger. The members of the Fatalin Society were as arrogant as the wizards. In a blink of an eye, he stood up and slammed his blackjack on the floor.

"Beware of your tongue, the wizard's running dog!" He shouted, feeling the blood flowing straight on his cheeks. "You know nothing about us and you know nothing about our struggles. We are harassed and attacked everywhere, but we are still resisting! We are not traitors. It's just men who have been treated like dogs for too long. "

Martin Bertini looked up at him without fear, but did not answer. Rubio let his anger disappear from him. He was tired. It has been a long time since he launched this rebellion. He picked up his blackjack, refilled it, and collapsed on the chair.

"You don't know what we experienced," Ricci Rubio whispered. "I saw people chewing the bones of their children. The wizards ran to those evil gods and hoped to bring some salvation. The mutant monsters produced by the plague ravaged our deserted fields and destroyed our only hope of harvest. When we thought things were not When it gets worse, the people of the Fatalin Association come. Did they bring us bread? Water? Nothing. Only taxes. New war taxes and recruits. When we resisted, they burned down. The houses around us. This is what your dear master does. "

Martin Bertini's face was pale with pain, but he was still as straight as possible.

"War is coming," Martin Bertini said. "The army of the Fatalin Association needs manpower. The soldiers just execute the orders of the Fatalin Association. We all have our own responsibilities."

Rubio sneered.

"When our loved ones died at our feet and died in our arms, where were you? When plagues and mutant monsters ravaged our homes, where were you? Only when we stood up and did not want to continue to kneel on the ground, When you die under oppression like a livestock, you ride your horse to our land. "

Martin Bertini carefully moved his body. Rubio's words seemed to cause him pain.

"We have all suffered," Martin Bertini said somberly. "But not everyone has betrayed the law of the association. Rubio, what kind of goals do you hope to achieve? You know you ca n’t win forever. You may be able to stay here for a while, but it wo n’t last. I did n’t lie to you . A war is coming, a war beyond your imagination. If you win, it will come to you. Do you really think our enemies will be more merciful to you than the Fatalin Association? "

Rubio took a swig of ale and felt the bitter liquid flowing through his body, cooling his anger and numb his pain.

"Maybe," he said seriously. "How much do I know about this world? I'm just an ordinary countryman. It's the kind of idiot that works hard to get a little bit of life's fun, and it's the kind of scum that you have to deal with."

Martin Bertini flinched this time.

"What do you think of me?" He said wearily. "I'm not a mage nor a nobleman. I'm a Fatalin, just like you. I'm a hunter's son. I grew up in a small village, not far from here. The plague also cost me loved ones. Who doesn't? We are all affected by the suffering caused by this plague. This is how the world works. We must believe in the association ... "

"Let you and your association go to hell!" Rubio snapped, his anger exploded again. "You are not like me at all. There is no resemblance in any way! When you and your association rule here, that stuff puts me and my compatriots underfoot. Maybe I don't have a good plan for what is happening now. Maybe we will stay here and build a new kingdom around us. I believe people will swarm under my banner. Of course, the Fatalin Association will eventually come to us. But when we have more people, we will Kill more people. Before surrendering, we will immerse the Fatalins in the blood! When we die, at least we will die like a man! "

Rubio stared at Martin Bertini directly, his eyes shining brightly. Martin Bertini looked like he was about to be beaten, he was ready to be beaten. Rubio's blood was beating. It took him a lot of effort to retreat from the edge of the furious cliff. He took another sip. Slowly, his anger subsided again. He does not want to play a barbaric farmer. Now that he has an advantage, he will treat these people equally. He sat back in his chair, meditating.

Was silent for a while. The two looked at each other, and no one broke the tense stalemate.

"I thought I killed you early," Martin Bertini finally said. "In the trap in the forest. At that moment, I really believe that the killing can stop, and I can ride the horse to where I really need it. Do you think I want to hunt down my kind? What kind of people want to do that?" New 81 Chinese network update the fastest mobile terminal: https: /

Martin Bertini shook his head gently. Rubio looked at him carefully. His injury was serious and he looked very painful. However, he did not beg for life, nor did he growl contemptuously. Rubio remembers the yellow-robed rider he saw after his attempt to trigger the trap failed. Is that Martin Bertini in front of him? He has to assume this.

"Stop complaining about yourself," Rubio said bitterly. "We all went too far on the path we chose, so far that we will not regret our actions. We can't and won't look back."

Martin Bertini sighed and looked down at the floor.

"So why don't you kill me now?" He said quietly. "As long as I live, I'm a threat. If our roles change, I will do the same."

Martin Bertini raised his head with a look of expectation on his face. Despite the injury, his chin was still high, and there was no fear in his eyes.

Rubbio did not look at him, but reached into a leather bag and pulled out a scroll. They were covered with mud and blood, but they were still legible. He spread them out and lifted them to the captain.

"I haven't done this for a while." Rubio said. "This is the scroll I wrote down. The original one was lost when I ... got out of pursuit. No one of mine can understand the password. But I think you can. I want to know what is written in it. We get Its way makes me think it is very important. Captain, please tell me the contents. I do n’t like torturing people, but I am not an inexperienced shepherd. If necessary, I will use it. Your best Okay to start talking. "

Martin Bertini smiled coldly.

"Do you really think I will help you?" Martin Bertini sat in his chair, ready to greet what might happen, and laughed. "will never."

Rubio stood up and pressed the unrolled scroll close to his face.

"Think carefully, Martin Bertini," Rubio said, with a threat in his voice. "To be honest, I can't hate you as much as I thought. But this business is everything to me, and I owe these people. Now, read it!"

Martin Bertini shook his head sadly, but when he did so, his eyes saw something on the parchment roll. His eyes were caught, and he quickly glanced at the rest. His face was pale, and he seemed to be bleeding residual blood.

"This is impossible! This is not a password!" He gasped.

Martin Bertini looked haggard on the chair. His arrogant standing body fell down ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ looked downcast. Depression and painful pain were carved into his torn face.

"What is this?" Rubio asked urgently. "What did you read?"

Martin Bertini didn't answer immediately, and seemed to be caught in his inner pain. Then he raised his head again, showing a desperate expression on his face.

"Maybe I'm going to be cursed for this, I still want to tell you," he said, his voice soft and unemotional. "But you have to listen to me. I'm not sure about all this, everything we do has nothing to do with this. This is a prophecy."

Rubio frowned doubtfully. Transfer the parchment paper and re-read the contents above.

"Prophecy?" He said, pulling the chair closer. "Tell me about what to predict."

Martin Bertini looks upset.

"About a mage of the Fatalin Association, written by a prophet of the Fatalin Association." Martin Bertini hesitated. "I don't know if this prophecy is simply related to the mage, or is it all about us."

"What's his name?" Rubio asked.

"The wizard is called Night Owl, and he is also the commander of this operation."

"Commander?" Rubio suddenly remembered the rider. "Is he wearing a yellow robe, right?"

Martin Bertini nodded.

Rubio looked again at what was written on the parchment scroll. Frowning, the content of the prediction is too obscure.

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