Dust of History Chapter 11: I can’t die

Clovis' hands were drenched with sweat. He began to worry that he would lose his grip on the sword.

He had never been so nervous before, and he didn't even know that his palms would sweat like this when he was nervous.

In the eyes of the vast majority of people, the Duke of Mrak has a high position, is shrewd and capable, and is well versed in the way of life. He is just a very respectable politician and minister. But he knew that even if he galloped on the battlefield and took the lead, the Duke would never be inferior to any general in the empire. In terms of skill, the Duke is definitely qualified to be among the top five in the empire.

The duke just gave him and his subordinates an order like this—don't worry about the person they really want to arrest, and watch the duke himself make a move, and everyone immediately concentrates on attacking the person the duke attacked.

He didn't ask the Duke who was the one who needed such a big scene to deal with. He absolutely believed in the Duke's judgment, and that was definitely an opponent beyond imagination.

This was the first time in his life that he faced a huge, unknown, and possibly unimaginable dangerous thing, which completely exceeded his life experience that had been smooth, open, and brilliant since birth. So he is nervous.

Too, too, too, three rhythmic knocks on the door. The Duke called out very kindly: "Old Mr. Sandro, I am back again."

Clovis clenched the hilt of the sword, and the hilt, which was usually so close to the palm of his hand, seemed to have turned into a sweaty catfish. Clovis was very afraid that it would attack Time suddenly slipped out of his hands.

The Duke turned his head, glanced at him, and said lightly: "Relax."

Clauvis realized that his forehead was covered with cold sweat.

Don't be nervous. Can't be nervous. Clovis repeatedly emphasized to himself and demanded of himself. In front of so many subordinates, what kind of person am I? I am the best, the strongest, the most potential, and the most capable person. How can I be nervous? It's just to catch a soldier, nothing to be nervous about. Repeatedly recall the Duke's plan just now in my heart, think about every step I should take, when and what posture, how to speak calmly, and then make a sudden move when the opponent is not expecting...

The big wooden door let out a 'creak' sound, and the person who opened the door was a pale young man in his twenties with a lack of sunlight on his face.

Looking at this face, Duke Mrak was a little surprised. When the doors were all opened and he saw the situation inside, Duke Mrak was even more surprised, even surprised.

And looking at this face that made him toss and turn in the past two months, and he cared more about it than his most affectionate lover, Clovis' eyes seemed to burst into flames.

This is the man he met two months ago, the soldier who learned part of their plan, the man who is a hundred times more important than himself in the eyes of his fiancée, the man who made him make mistakes one after another Wait for the untouchables. And now this pariah even dared to appear in front of him openly and squarely, looking at them like a group of expected unexpected guests.

In a rage, he drew his sword, and he wanted to punish the culprit who despised him first on the spot. But as soon as the sword was unsheathed, he discovered a strange thing. Everyone else, including the duke, dropped their weapons and got down on one knee.

There is an open space inside the big house, and a carriage is parked there. Beside them are two priests and an old man.

This is a very thin old man. The cheeks on both sides meet at the chin in a very flat range, forming a very narrow face, which makes the originally small eyes look good. There is a layer of dark bags under the eyes, and it looks like it has not rested for a long time. The old man was wearing a set of pure white satin cassock, with a cross embroidered with platinum silk on his chest, and a crown inlaid with precious stones on his head. Under the aura emanating from this outfit, even the corpses in the room became very solemn and solemn.

Clauvis hurriedly put down his weapon, knelt down on one knee, and performed a standard blessing ceremony: "God is with you, Lord Ronnies."

"God is with everyone who believes in Him." Bishop Ronnies showed a small smile on his thin face, motioning everyone to stand up.

"Your Excellency, what are you doing?" Bishop Ronis asked looking at the weapons all over the floor.

The Duke was able to keep his face intact, looked at Asa and said, "We just suspect that this young man is a fugitive, so we are going to arrest him for interrogation." He had already seen who the young man in front of him was, Since a **** can be pretended, a hunchback can be pretended, and of course a face can also be pretended.

"Oh?" Bishop Ronis looked at Asa, his eyes were like a pair of candles in the darkness, and asked: "Young man, in the name of God and your own name, you are really as he said, Is it a fugitive?"

Asa shook his head: "No."

Bishop Ronnies nodded, smiled, turned around and said to the Duke, "He said he wasn't."

"Yes." The Duke nodded. Clovis' forehead was soaked in cold sweat.

"I think you may have some misunderstanding, or something wrong." Bishop Ronnies helped the Duke draw a conclusion.

"Yes, we made a mistake," the Duke repeated. The cold sweat of Clovis beside him was already streaming down his forehead.

"Now that the misunderstanding has been clarified, there will be no trouble in the future, right?" Bishop Ronnies asked.

"Yes, there will be no more trouble." The duke replied.

"My lord duke, you know that I am not interested in military affairs or politics, and I don't want to have any interest." His lord bishop said in a very emotional tone as if he was chatting with an old friend. "So I don't want people around me to be involved. You have to know, this is the place of the Magic Academy, and the people here are also from the Magic Academy."

"Yes, please rest assured, my lord bishop. We are leaving." His lord the duke said politely and magnanimously like a gentleman who just walked into the wrong room.

After exiting the big house and disbanding the troops, Clovis said to the Duke: "My lord bishop designed us to go in, and he deliberately protected that guy."

The Duke nodded, Bishop Ronnies's carriage was not parked outside, but deliberately brought it into the house, because they were afraid that they would retreat temporarily after seeing the carriage and knew that it would be difficult to do anything. Only when they are on the verge of making a move can they speak deadly.

Strictly speaking, the bishop has no real power. He can neither adjust taxes nor mobilize soldiers. But even if he is as powerful as the emperor, he would never dare to fool him. Since he said he didn't want that soldier to have any more troubles, then he really couldn't have any troubles.

Clovis feels that things have run out of steam.

The Duke asked him: "Do you think that soldier will tell the Bishop everything?"

Clauvis shook his head: "I don't know, what do you say."

The Duke also shook his head: "I don't know, it seems that I have to ask him himself."

"How do you ask?" Clovis was puzzled.

"Just ask." The Duke said lightly.

Clauvis still didn't quite understand, but looking at the Duke's calm expression, he felt that things would still turn out to be better.

The Duke said: "From a certain point of view, there are only three kinds of people in the world. One is people who have nothing to do with you, you don't need to care about that kind of people, and you don't have to pay attention to them. The other is you There cannot be too many such people, and once there are, they must be eradicated." He looked at Clovis. "But what if there is an enemy that you can't deal with?"

"Use all my strength and all methods to defeat him." Clovis frowned heroically and said full of fighting spirit. He was already considering how to go about it and explained it to the bishop afterwards.

The Duke shook his head in disappointment: "You should find a way to turn him into the third type of person—a friend. The more such people, the better. Especially those you can't deal with."

"Friend?" Clovis seemed to hear the word for the first time.

At noon that day, as soon as Bishop Ronis left for a while, the servants of the Duke's Palace sent Asa a letter.

The letter was written by the Duke himself, and the words are sincere. The general idea is that he is actually very grateful to Asa for saving his two daughters successively. However, due to some unavoidable reasons, there were some misunderstandings. He now feels very sorry for the misunderstanding between the two parties before, and there are many detailed reasons for it, which is not convenient to explain in the letter. The Duke will send a carriage to pick him up tonight to apologize in person at the mansion~IndoMTL.com~ Asa read the letter over and over again, but still can't decide whether to go or not. He was afraid that as soon as he took his seat, dozens of guards would rush out and chop him into meat paste on the spot, or eat a piece of food or drink a sip of water, and his stomach would be pierced and bloody. So he asked Sandro: "Do you think it will be dangerous if I go?"

"Dangerous." Sandro immersed himself in sorting out the corpses. "He will put a knife on your neck and force you to marry his daughter." He stretched out his hand. "Give me the saw."

"If that's the case, I will definitely introduce you to him." Asa handed him the saw. But it's also an opportunity to get to the bottom of things. What is the misunderstanding? What happened to the thing you reported yourself? How is Xiaoyi now?

"Let's go." Asa finally decided. He hated the feeling that something was hanging over his head. He likes the mantra of an old dwarf old man in his hometown who often walks around his house: Even if it is a load of shit, eat it, don't let it lie in front of you and bother you.

"Introduce me?" Sandro lowered his head and tried hard to saw the leg of a corpse, making a creaking sound.

"Yes." Asa held up the letter and flicked it to the sun, hoping that a reminder would fall from the cracks in the paper.