Chapter 29 Life and Death Fight on a Rainy Night (Part 2)
The electric light illuminated everything in the world pale, illuminating Durdafo's fat face dancing with joy and hatred.
Although his vision gradually blurred, Horn saw something else.
Just behind Durdafo, there was a bush about five steps away from them.
Under the bushes, a tall woman sat.
Horn couldn't see her face clearly, only a pair of red eyes.
Although she was tall, she acted like a child. She hugged her knees and hid in the bushes aside, shivering, looking at this side pitifully and curiously.
In her hands, Horn saw a familiar thing, which was the equipment he had just exploded - the bone flute.
This is the last hope.
So, in a series of electric lights, Duldaf saw Horn making a strange movement.
He tilted his head, struggled to pick up a branch, put it to his pursed lips, and made a silent "chuchu" sound.
This is it?
Before Durdafo could figure out what was going on, a melodious flute sound entered his eardrums.
The sound of the flute is soft and warm, as if I have returned to my mother's arms, soaked in the amniotic fluid that wraps my whole body.
It’s so comfortable.
Durdafo himself didn't even realize that he let go of his hands at some point.
The person who was pressed under him also staggered out.
Grabbing a wooden stick or something, Horn rounded it up and hit it hard on Duldaf's temple.
It was as if the sound of a watermelon bursting mixed with the thunder, so frightened that the red-eyed woman trembled all over, even the bone flute fell to the ground, and the sound of the flute stopped immediately.
“Boom!”
Durdafo's body tilted and his head hit the ground hard.
The eyeballs have been stained red with blood, the face is blue and red, and there is a smile on the corner of the mouth.
Until then, Horn had no time to lower his head and looked at the weapon in his hand in confusion. He thought it was a stick, but he didn't expect it to be the black bread in the fat priest's hand.
I have to say that the quality of this bread is indeed good. It collided with his armed sword several times, but the gap was only half a finger deep.
Putting the black bread in his hand on the ground, Horn bent over and gasped for air.
After almost two seconds, he stepped forward, stepped on the fat priest's back with one foot, picked up a black bread stick, and frantically hit the fat priest on the back of the head ten times before sitting down. in water.
Slumped on the ground, Horn breathed heavily. He could feel that his forehead was frighteningly hot at the moment.
Originally, he wanted to track down the Iron-Toothed Monk, but after the deadly fight just now, he had completely lost his strength.
This fat priest is not only difficult to deal with, but also has so many companions. It was too fatal for me to accidentally let him go before.
A violent flash of light lit up from behind, and the continuous screams almost covered up the thunder.
Horn turned around and saw Jeanne flying back and forth among the crowd like a Valkyrie. It must have been the time for holy water.
The holy flag in his hand was like the death scythe, and every time he waved it, a life would be taken away. Soon, only one or two night watch guards were left standing.
Seeing Jeanne rushing towards them, they even jumped into the water to escape in a panic, and were directly washed away by the current so that they could not even see their shadow.
These second witnesses are solved, so what should we do with the escaped priest?
Although the straight-line distance from here to the Gulag Monastery is short, you need to go around the side of the hillside and go up the steps. If you really want to walk, you won't be able to go up in ten minutes.
Is it still too late?
No, we have to catch up. He and Jeanne are the only ones chasing after him. The monk was injured earlier and will definitely not be able to run fast.
He must not be allowed to see Durdafo alive! Otherwise, Horn will have no choice but to defect to the secret party, which is the last thing he wants.
Just as Horn gritted his teeth and stood up, a light lit up in front of him, making him jump up in shock.
The source of the light was a hexagonal whale oil lamp, and the person holding the whale oil lamp was a pale and withered hand.
The lights swayed and flickered in the darkness, casting mottled light and shadow.
The visitor's footsteps made a squeaking sound on the wet ground.
The leader wearing a leather cloak raised the whale oil lamp in his hand and illuminated Horn's face.
They looked at Horn blankly, as if they didn't understand what was going on.
On the other side, after defeating all the soldiers present, Jeanne suddenly turned her head and saw the surrounded Horn at a glance.
Although I didn't know who these people were, they still ran over anxiously. The remaining people picked up the soldiers' weapons and rushed towards Horn.
"You are..."
The leader, Madeleine, opened his eyes wide. Before he could finish speaking, a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky and knocked out the dirt in front of him. made a pothole.
“Witch?” The red-bearded man behind Madeleine growled in disbelief.
Before he finished speaking, Jeanne, who was holding a holy flag and wrapped in lightning, stopped in front of all of them as if she had descended from the sky.
There are about forty or fifty of these people, all young and middle-aged. Judging from the clothing, they are basically made of linen and animal skins, and some even have their skinny upper bodies bare.
The electric light and the lights complement each other. Over Jeanne's shoulder, Horn saw the bald monk with a bruised face behind the leader.
Although his vision was blurred, he could still tell from the reflection of his broken teeth that this was the Iron-Toothed Monk from before.
This group of people should be refugees, but why did they beat up a clergyman?
Before Horn could unravel his doubts, he suddenly heard a scream that was so excited that his voice changed.
Looking back, I saw a short old man with fat shoulders and round waist, facing the body of a fat priest on the ground and taking several steps back.
"Father Duldaf!"
Hearing this, the expressions of everyone present changed, including Horn.
Damn it, is Durdafo here?
Although his consciousness was blurred, Horn's body tensed up instantly. He grabbed Jeanne's shoulders, hinting that she was ready to escape at any time.
“It’s Father Durdafo!”
“It’s really Father Durdafo!”
Before Horn could figure out a strategy, a few seconds later, A monk in black robes squeezed out from behind the crowd and rushed towards them, crying and shouting.
But Horn waited and waited, but no one came.
He looked around in the dark rainy night, but saw nothing.
Looking back again, Horn found in confusion, shouldn't everyone be looking in the direction of the monastery? Didn't you say that Father Durdafo is here?
Why are everyone’s eyes focused on me?
Wait! The eyes of the refugees were not focused on themselves, but on their backs.
As if he thought of something, Horn's body became a little stiff.
When he turned his head, Horn could even hear the crackling sound in his spine.
Taking a deep breath, Horn looked at the body of the fat priest. With Jeanne's illumination, the body of the fat priest and the gold and silver on the ground all appeared in front of Horn's eyes.
Could this be Durdafo?
(End of this chapter)