Twenty Sided Dice

Sir Bill looked at the accountant and seemed to be holding back his anger. He said slowly, "How much do you know about this?"

"Damn it! 200 gold coins! I can give you and your followers 200 more gold coins!" The accountant held his bag tightly and shouted, "There is only half of the journey left to send these soils to the hub, don't give up halfway!"

"I despise your broken money!" Sir Bill kicked the accountant and explained to everyone else: "This is not soil for fertilizer, but mineral soil. The most sturdy metal in the world is extracted from it—fine gold.”

"What's the use of telling them this? It's dirt to them." The accountant struggled to sit up from the ground and wiped the blood from the corners of his mouth. "Black, yellow, red mud makes no difference, it's just one sack after another that can be carried to make money, that's all."

"Don't let him talk nonsense. Siegel, give me a good look at him!"

So the squid stepped up, took out the long whip from its waist, and threw it out with force. The whip slammed into the air with a loud thud, slamming into the mud next to the accountant's ass. The muddy water splashed, and the hard whip tip made a small hole in the ground.

"Don't let me practice the whip with your mouth," Siegel threatened.

"Very good," the ser said with a rare compliment, before turning his head to tell everyone, "Adamantine is extremely rare and valuable. It only takes a few grams of adamantine to strengthen a dagger, and such a dagger will cut iron as much as possible. Mud. You're transporting a priceless shipment, not just dirt."

"But... but what if we know it?" A coachman covered the wound on his head, plucked up his courage and stood up and said, "We can only transport these things, if we don't work, we will starve to death."

Sir Bill's chest heaved violently, he clenched his fists and closed his eyes in pain. What these people are saying is, what can you do if you know it? Even if they knew that the pure gold raw soil was the wealth that the pen king deserved, they could only transport it as if it was mud, and there was no craftsmanship to refine it. At the same time, whether it is a powerful dwarven clan or a mysterious elven kingdom, whether it is a wizard in a tower or a priest in the church, they have many means to find this precious mineral and collect it to make powerful magical items. Even the kind-hearted people among them would only buy them at a low price, and would not rob them, that's all--but such cases are too few.

Compared with the strong ones, goblin robbers are not even a little trouble.

Tiger Bill slowly let go of his hand and forced himself to calm down. He walked over to the accountant and stared into his eyes. Under his scrutiny, McCate tried to look away several times, but turned back in fear.

Sir squeezed the accountant's chin and lifted him directly from the ground: "I won't ask for your reward, but I will give the money to every driver, give it now if you are alive, and give it to me if you are dead. Give it to their family. Your master wants to use a trick? Wants to save money? But wants to impose a risk on these innocent drivers, it's too beautiful! I will keep my promise and help him deliver the shipment, but then I will find He does the math!"

The accountant stuck his tongue out and nodded vigorously. He was afraid that he would be pinched to death like a little bug. The sergeant let go of him, and although the accountant was the employer of the caravan, he had a man in charge above him, perhaps a lord involved. Jazz is self-respecting and will only go to trouble those "old men", there is no need to continue tossing this little pawn. Accountant McKate quickly took out the gold coins from his close pocket and distributed them to the living coachman. At this time, the coachmen thanked them greatly and happily hid the gold coins in a place they thought was safe.

The accountant smiled flatteringly and asked Sir Bill carefully, "Sir, can we go?"

A promise is a promise, and the journey will continue. The caravan composed of two carriages hit the road again, continuing to advance along the twisty road. After another two days of trekking, they passed through the continuous dense forest and entered a vast hill. There are no thick, low and twisted ghost trees here, but some tall and straight giant trees. The road became smooth and clear again, and their feet no longer stepped on the soil mixed with rotten leaves, but green grass exuding a fresh fragrance.

This place full of life made everyone's gloomy mood a lot better. In a place where a stream passed, Jazz stopped the team, took a break, and had lunch by the way - everyone cheered.

Siegel is going to eat at the end, and he still has work to do. After checking the condition of each of the coachman's wounds, he was sent to fill up all the water bladders. McCate wanted to reach out to help, but Siegel handed him three large skins.

"Thank you for your help." Siegel said with a smile, sending the accountant to fetch the water, so that he could listen to less nagging.

The cool stream washed away the tiredness, and the squid skillfully caught a few big fish with their "fishing nets". There was time for extra meals in the evening, and the drivers applauded loudly. Only Sir frowned and kept looking southwest. Behind the tall woods on the hills, not far away is the endless ghost fog swamp. There is a clear boundary between it and this golden jungle, as distinct as two worlds. But the Jazz knew that the line could be crossed with a light step, and that threat and peace were so close.

Moving on, the temperature gradually increased, and a suffocating air always enveloped the caravan. This is because the ghost fog swamp repels the heat given to the earth by the sun and leaves it behind, so the surrounding area of ​​the swamp is much hotter than other places. Fortunately, everyone drank enough water, and the donkey also drank enough, so we can persist here. They climbed a few more low hills, and at this moment, a strange howl sounded from the ghost fog swamp.

Sir rode his horse up to the heights and tried to look into the swamp. After that strange howl, a few more horns sounded. The horn does not have a sense of solemnity and solemnity, but with a sense of desolation of a dying wailing. The jazz came back on horseback and shouted, "Run! Hurry!"

Everyone got nervous and drove the mule cart to the road quickly. The accountant voluntarily threw all the saplings in one car on the ground to reduce the total load, and then he arranged for two drivers in each car to drive in turn, as long as he kept the pure gold soil. Siegel asked what the danger was, but Jazz didn't tell him.

"If they are caught up, they can't escape. You and I can only fight to the death." Sir asked, "Are you afraid of death? Little brat?"

"Afraid!" Siegel nodded, "but you have to be beaten before you die."

"Good boy, you will be a knight."

Soon, the hot sun disappeared, and the mist shrouded it, wet and cold. Not sure if it was wet from fog, or nervous and sweating, everyone's hair was stuck to their foreheads. The intermittent sound of the horn always sounded behind him, perseveringly following the caravan. Siegel looked behind him, and he felt the mist twirling and twisting, as if there were monsters crawling out of the mist. A strong unease rose from the bottom of his heart, and he involuntarily reached out to touch the machete, letting his skin feel the coldness of the metal, and then he slowly calmed down.

They did not stop for a moment, running from noon to evening. The mules were almost overwhelmed, and they could only barely walk, as if they were about to collapse with foam at the mouth. No one in the caravan spoke, and everyone knew that this might be the most dangerous moment. The badly injured driver took out the gold coin that would be distributed to him from his arms and gave it to a acquaintance. McKate sighed, took off his backpack, and left nothing on his body, ready to run at the lightest possible pace.

"Don't talk!" the sergeant shouted in a low voice, "I heard the sound of horses' hooves ahead."

They stopped abruptly, nothing more unfortunate than this. At this time, the shadow of the night has already shrouded, and the tall trees on both sides seem to have changed in the darkness - they are like open fingers, bending down and pressing from all sides to the center, the branches and leaves cover the sky, Like a cage, we must hold this poor caravan tightly.

The sound of the hooves is getting closer, more and more, and gradually clearer. It wasn't a horse traveling alone, it was a team. At this time, the moonlight fell from the top of the trees, the stars in the sky seemed to shine suddenly, and the cool night wind drove the dank air. Under this halo, the fog quickly dissipated, and the trees on both sides returned to a lively and upright posture.

The sound of the horn from behind quickly fled, mixed with anger, regret, and helpless sighs.

A group of knights came from the front of the team, and then slowly slowed down, the moonlight and starlight always shining on their shoulders. They all rode silver-white steeds and wore pale green soft armour. His long silky hair and pointed ears protruded from the eagle's helm, and his bright and sharp eyes shone like stars. This is a team of elves.

The cavalry surrounded the team, and their cavalry marched like a cloud and water, and passed by like a breeze. Jazz took off his helmet and raised his hand to indicate, "We are a caravan going to the hub castle~www.novelmt.com~ May I ask which elf team is on the opposite side?"

"Bill?" A voice sounded, and then a knight left the team and stopped in front of Sir's horse. The elf took off his helmet, only to see a pair of smiling eyes and a beautiful face, which was indescribably beautiful. "Nice to see you again, old friend."

"Leah! Long time no see." Sir smiled happily. The two jumped off their horses, stretched out their right hands, and patted each other's palms in greeting. Jazz said, "You've come at the right time, and we're almost in a corner."

"It's not very peaceful recently, and the Ghost Mist Swamp has moved two miles north." The elf replied, "Don't let everyone stand here, please come to our camp to rest, it's still safe there."

Everyone relaxes, exerts the last strength and moves on. Soon, they left the road and entered the tall woods. It was obviously an inhospitable forest, but as the truck approached, it found that the land was still level and the trees were wide apart. Siegel looked around in disbelief, convinced that his eyes and common sense seemed to be fooled.

The moonlight always shines on their heads, the elves are silent, but everyone is not worried at all. Soon, they came to the heights of the hills. There were no trees here, just an open meadow. Some wildflowers were dotted on the grass, swaying under the stars and giving off a faint fragrance. Two large white stones were on the top of the hill, one lay on the ground, smooth and flat like a table; the other stood beside it, polished like a silver mirror.

A flame burns out of thin air from the center of the table-like stone, emitting a soft glow and warm heat. "Come on!" The elf greeted everyone: "Rest here."