Blood of Mercury

The setting sun slanted westward, and the crimson evening light slanted down, disappearing layer by layer under the horizon.

Street vendors packed up and threw sacks of goods on trolleys, and the lights in taverns and inns were lit one by one; those peasants with hoes and sacks on their shoulders had also returned from the fields outside the town. to the city. The townspeople of Greypine had another peaceful day.

This is the town of Grey Pine in the Soleka district of Caral. Small city once famous for growing grey pine.

The bark of grey pine can be used as a spice to remove fishy smell after a set of processes of drying, roasting and grinding. Forty years ago, it was the only town in Caral where grey pine was planted on a large scale, and it was valued for it. Because the source of gray rosin is monopolized, this plant spice, which is not difficult to survive, was once sold for sky-high prices.

But just thirty-eight years ago, in the year 879 of the gods calendar, the great sage Friedrich implemented a planned planting system, and white-robed druids were sent to the countryside in large numbers to land in various planting areas. They are sampled and tested, and several plants that are most suitable for this kind of land are selected and mixed together for planting. Because three areas in Grey Pine Town were found to be more suitable for the survival of grey pine wood, they were forced to hand over the saplings of grey pine to those smiling white-robed druids.

Since then, no crop of any kind has been produced from a single region throughout Kalar. Ten years ago, the last grey pine tree in Grey Pine Town had been completely reduced to ashes. Now they are one of the main producing areas of Kalar red wheat, but they still stubbornly hold on to the name of Grey Pine Town.

The old people chanted, this is the glory of the ancestors, this is the history of the town. Repeatedly tell the young people the history of the town. But even the best-tempered young people can't stand the broken thoughts of these old people. They would rather go to work. Bury all of your strength into the ground, and pray to Mother Gaia for a good harvest in the coming year.

Who is Gaia's mother? They don't know it themselves. All they know is that the druids who bless the seeds and the land do so in stone. After putting on a ring, he talked about Gaia's mother or something. These smart country folks followed suit, and there have been several famous druids over the years, and in the end, the saying just spread.

Now is a good time for winter farming. The red wheat is ripe once a season. Now plant a small batch of red wheat, and then plant some sweet grass to support the land. When the wheat is harvested in April of next year, the wheat straw is thrown into the ground, and the Druid master can do it with a wave of his hand. Mix sweet grass and wheat straw to make a good fertilizer. And those sweet grass fruits that are taken down can also be sold for some pocket money.

Caral life is such a comfortable and comfortable life. Those who believe in the principles of nature are naturally rewarded by nature. Although I can't say how luxurious life is. But he can also eat well, dress warmly, and be his own, without the desire to understand the outside world. Undoubtedly, the life of the Caralans can indeed be regarded as a happy one.

The enchantment of the great sage surrounded the entire Caral. Since then, Caral has never had a winter that could freeze people to death, nor a heavy rain that lasted for several days without stopping. That's one of the reasons why the Kalars look down on those priests. If your **** is here, let him stop Blizzard? If the weather that the Druid can change at will can't be controlled, then the **** is not a god. It can only be said that it is a powerful mortal.

Because the environment in Caral is comfortable enough, many foreigners often rush to cross the border in winter to escape the cold winter, of course, provided they can afford the exorbitant transit fee.

But that is the transit fee for the lord, and the transit fee for the sage. It has nothing to do with ordinary people like them who carry hoes and scrape food from the ground.

So, they naturally don't need to show respect to these foreigners, right?

A little boy with short gray hair was walking down the street alone.

His face was immature, and he looked like he was only twelve or thirteen years old. The bangs on his forehead drooped deeply, covering half of his face. Gives a very introverted feeling.

With luggage on his back, he looked like a traveler from afar. But when he was staying. But he was turned away by the hotel, and he could only walk alone on the street alone. Just looking at it made people feel sad.

But the child was still clenching his teeth, not sobbing, and his face was calm. Strong enough to hurt.

But even so, no one dared to talk to him.

It wasn't how they thought the child was terrifying. It was the men who followed the children like ghosts and forced them back with vicious eyes.

There were about six or seven of them, and men in their early twenties had their heads covered and their faces could not be seen clearly. Judging from the figure, there are also mixed thirties and old men and teenage children.

What they have in common is obvious malice in their actions.

They held sticks in their hands, and their eyes were bloodshot. Like a hyena seeing a lamb.

Not bad actually. To them, the gray-haired boy was nothing but a fat lamb.

Come to think of it, there is no grey-haired race in the whole of Caral, which means that he is a tourist from a foreign country. Passengers entering in winter will undoubtedly pay sky-high transit fees to enter. If he was a smuggler, he would definitely not walk on the road in an upright manner. If you meet a Druid, it will be bad if you can't show your ID.

In other words, they must have money.

A child of about eleven or twelve years old, or even younger, came to Caral alone at this time. What does this mean?

right. This is definitely a fat sheep.

Either he is wanted by the temple, or the eldest young master who ran away from home, or the heir of a desolate noble. The possibility of getting separated from his own guard is not small.

As long as he was killed in the dark and windy night, and then ran away, no one would know who did it.

A young man stared at him with red eyes, and gradually tightened the stick with spikes in his hand. It could be vaguely seen that the tip of the thorn had turned black, and the thorn was slightly bent.

It's not the first time he's killed someone.

Although he is only in his early twenties now, he has already taken the lives of three people. Because of his tight organization, clean handling of his tail, coupled with his adaptability and excellent acting skills, he has not been suspected so far. This gave him an unmistakable sense of superiority and the excitement of holding other people's lives in his hands.

Today, this is the fourth

He told himself in his heart.

Watching the child turn into a dark alley in search of a hotel, he trotted all the way over under the urging of his companions' eyes, and unfolded the shallow stealth skills he learned from an old golden finger. The messy pace ran over, and a stick hit the back of the child's head.

The child immediately fell down~www.wuxiaspot.com~ He was not at ease, although he could not see clearly in the dark, he picked up the stick and smashed it several times at about the neck and back of the head, and the people behind him also followed. , smashing it in the face.

After about three minutes of smashing, they felt that the touch of the head had changed, and they took out a rag to block it in front of their hands, pulled the package from the little boy's body, and then searched the body closely before giving up.

"His mother... is a thief! No oil or water!"

"Don't worry about it! Get out!"

They threw down the rags, wiped the bloodstains on their hands unknowingly, and then fled.

Unfortunately, they didn't see that after they left, the child whose head was smashed staggered and stood up again.

There was a scarlet light in his eyes.

The sun sets, and the afterglow fades away. The townspeople of Greypine had another peaceful day. (To be continued.)