The sun hasn\'t come out in the morning, and the climate is very comfortable.

After a good night\'s sleep, go out of the door and stretch. The gentle breeze in the face brings the slightly astringent aroma of bitter thorns in the distance. It is the most pleasant and comfortable time of the day.

However, the "wind wolf" tribe has no intention to enjoy this beauty and has completely fallen into panic.

The warriors who set out yesterday have never heard back since they left. Only a few people came back in distress in the early morning, but they just trembled and refused to speak like malaria.

Their appearance has explained everything. The news of defeat spread like a winter wildfire in the tribe.

Today, even women and children know that the warriors who went out with the shaman lost the battle. Men are fiercely debating whether to escape or wait, but no one can make up his mind to make a choice.

So they turned to criticizing each other\'s immediate female relatives.

Nearly 80% of the soldiers were lost in one day. For the wind wolf tribe, it was like a knife on the main artery. In any case, the fate waiting for them will be more cruel than the hungry tiger.

Near noon, centaurs began to appear around the tribe. From time to time, they bent their bows and put two arrows into the station, slowly shrinking and defending.

They were cautious and skilful, and did not rush to plunder the defenceless tribe.

This kind of performance is enough to show that they are experienced soldiers, which makes the wind wolf tribe feel like falling into an ice cave.

When the werewolf found out with his outstanding eyesight that there were a group of burly barbarians secretly spying on the tribe, their determination to resist broke into pieces.

……

Richard didn\'t expect that the werewolf, who was always famous for his tenacity, would choose to surrender so easily.

"My Lord, werewolves are not wild wolves after all. Why must they have the character of wild wolves?" Nehru, who was tied to a wooden stick and carried by two barbarians, was very wronged. "You Pompeii are really mixed with too much prejudice and discrimination against local people."

"But I think you\'re a dog headed man, and you obviously have dog leg potential." Richard walked into the tribal station unhappily.

Pompeii folk always regard werewolves as monsters who grind their teeth and suck blood. Everyone can use magic tricks, and even think that they can turn into giant wolves on the night of the full moon.

But Richard saw only three or four hundred herdsmen, at most more short and vigorous. There were cattle and sheep in the animal pen and also lived in leather tents, which was far from the legend.

As a territory, Gaoshan castle is actually very imperfect. Everyone is a soldier without civilians. It\'s like a weapon with only a blade but no back.

Richard once thought about how to make Pompeii civilians give up their warm and rich hometown and live in this desolate and cold land. The conclusion was to sleep quickly. There was everything in his dream.

At this moment, he suddenly realized that his vision was too narrow. Why stick to Pompeii? These werewolf herdsmen can also become the subjects of Gaoshan castle, farming land and grazing cattle and sheep.

Richard asked Hutt to lead the Centaur to drive the werewolf tribe away. The women and children didn\'t know what was going to happen, so they cried loudly and jumped with fear. According to the wilderness rules they are familiar with, it is possible to be collectively cut off the capital!

Richard looked at all this coldly and couldn\'t stand the waves in his heart. After all, it was the tribe that met with his swordsmen. It was all his kindness not to belittle everyone as a slave.

"Boss, what are we doing?" Gunther put the spear back into the leather jacket on his back and felt there was no room to play.

"Check whether there was any booty." Richard was not sure whether he could harvest. After all, the tribe seemed to be synonymous with backwardness.

"I know the tent of the chief of the fast wind wolf tribe! There are their savings of several generations in it! I know where to hide!" it\'s uncomfortable for anyone to be hung upside down on a stick. Nehru quickly seized the opportunity to explain loudly, hoping to get some attention and solve it.

"Use your words!" Gunther raised his leg with one foot. The barbarians don\'t like this kind of soft bone.

The two barbarian porters deliberately hurt him, gently lifted the stick, and let Gunther\'s toes hit Nehru\'s liver, which made him tense into a trembling shrimp.

"What I said is true!" the dog head man placed his last hope on Richard. "Their chief died yesterday. Only I know that there is a cow skull in the chief\'s tent and gold nuggets in the box buried under it."

"Stop, Gunther." Richard waved Gunther to stop.

"Let\'s go and have a look."

The chief\'s tent is easy to find. The best location is the most spacious one.

After all, most wilderness people do not have the habit of maintaining hygiene, and there is a smelly smell from the tent. Several barbarians went to cut off the rope to tie the ground, fastened the bottom of the tent, made a concerted effort, and directly turned it over.

The exposed interior furnishings are very messy, a bed of hay and fur bunks, and several large mud urns for which I don\'t know what to do. In the center was a stone the size of a millstone, on which stood a particularly huge cow skeleton.

The barbarians moved away the stones and skeletons, pulled out their spears and began to dig.

Richard suddenly smelled a strange smell, which seemed to come from those big gray mud urns not far away, so he gently kicked Nehru and asked, "what\'s in there."

"The chief and I haven\'t had time to open our own wine. I don\'t know if it has succeeded."

"Wine?" Gunther\'s eyes brightened, rushed over and slapped open the mud seal at the mouth of the urn, looked down, and the excited expression on his face immediately collapsed.

The mud urn was full of dark brown and bright liquid, with big lumps of black pellets floating on it. Due to the evaporation of water, thick black stains were left on the urn wall, and more importantly, there was no taste of wine at all.

"Boss, this product must be lying. I think it\'s probably witchcraft material."

At the moment of opening the mud seal, Richard\'s state suddenly became very wrong. The whole person was loose, half open and motionless as if he had lost his soul.

Gunther talked endlessly about how to take care of Nehru to get rid of his hatred. It took a long time to find that the atmosphere was wrong and shut up quickly.

Richard walked over, dipped his fingers in some dark brown liquid in the mud jar, put it in his mouth and sucked it.

He suddenly sighed.

It\'s so familiar, but it\'s so strange.

I thought those distant things had long been forgotten. I didn\'t expect that they had been hidden in the depths of memory and never faded.

His whole life: familiar friends, close lovers, tacit partners, magnificent sunset clouds, sunny spring noodles on winter nights... It is very real, but it is like a mirror, and there is only nothingness outside his memory.

Sometimes Richard couldn\'t help but wonder whether it was Zhuang Gong dreaming of butterfly or butterfly dreaming of Zhuang Gong.

The sun shone on his face, disappointed and calm, as if he suddenly woke up from a deep dream.

"Boss, what\'s this?" Gunther asked carefully.

"It\'s soy sauce."