Brand soon saw a patrol cavalry team appearing from one side of the valley. They drove their mounts closer to the people—though the cavalry, dressed in brightly colored noble military uniforms, didn't seem in the mood to waste ti on these people. Instead, they shouted loudly, "Line up over there, get your number and tools—!"
After saying this, the cavalry imdiately turned back to the people coming from behind.
Brand looked in the direction the cavalry pointed. There, the overseer of the mine was distributing tools and numbered wooden tags to the workers—these two items were not allowed to be lost or damaged in the mining area. Any loss or damage would result in severe punishnt. This era of Vorn had no humanitarian spirit—here, as long as there was a legitimate or not-so-legitimate reason, even being beaten to death wasn't a big deal.
Even the clerks in the mining area had the authority to order soone to be hanged—as long as they suspected soone of stealing the Count's ore.
But Brand didn't care about this; he only cared about where he would be assigned. The workers naturally resided in the valley during these six days, so the officials had no choice but to build so crude and shabby camps for the workers.
The camps were primarily made of straw huts, full of various slls that were unbearable for soone from modern society. If Brand hadn't entered the Golden Domain, significantly enhancing his physical capabilities, he would have been worried about passing out from the stench upon entering these dark huts.
This worry quickly beca a reality.
He stood frowning in front of the rickety hut, comparing his number tag with the location of the hut several tis. But in the end, he reluctantly realized:
This is it—
Brand's nose twitched; he could already sll the nauseating stench from several feet away. At that mont, he suddenly thought it was incredibly wise for Yuta, Qian, and disha not to co, and he had certainly made the most foolish choice.
He hesitated for a mont, couldn't help but look back—there were four such camps in the valley. From his surveillance, he noticed that the rcenaries were scattered almost everywhere—but he believed this would not be a problem for those seasoned warriors.
The good news was that three people were assigned to his camp; he had seen the marks outside the straw huts earlier.
But whether it was good or bad news, it couldn't solve the current most practical problem. Frowning with distress, Brand finally hesitantly walked towards the dark hut—his expression at that mont was akin to heading towards the execution ground.
Of course, before entering, he discreetly waved his hand, and an invisible wind lifted a few pebbles, arranging them into a triangle at the door. Having reached the highest level of the White Crow Swordsmanship, he could now control it effortlessly.
Brand thought that it was an extrely useful swordsmanship. He could go to the Erune Court to acquire the next advanced section whenever he had ti. However, this idea was a bit unrealistic, given how difficult it was to obtain the Court's Secret Sword—
Princess Griffine would definitely be proficient in this swordsmanship, but what kind of condition would make her willing to teach it to him remained a question.
With these thoughts, he entered the hut. Despite his efforts to restrain himself, he couldn't help but cover his nose slightly with his hand.
The hut fell silent.
Then he heard a nearly inaudible murmur: "Tsk, pampered noble brat—"
This sentence was almost silent; an ordinary person would definitely not have heard it, but Brand heard it clearly.
He looked up and saw the people inside the hut. He stood there stunned for a mont, as it was too much of a coincidence. They were the sa few youths he had encountered before.
He first saw the boy nad Joka, who was sitting opposite him on a straw mat, grinning awkwardly.
Then the guy nad Maher beside him, who seed to be the oldest and sturdiest among them—he was even a head taller than Joka and about the sa height as Brand.
Brand imdiately judged that this guy was the one who had spoken earlier. He saw the other's hand under his clothes, and just from the hand's movent, he guessed that there was a dagger or short sword there. Brand couldn't help but curse those patrol cavalry in his heart—
"So courage, but utterly reckless—" this was his impression of this guy.
He then turned his gaze to the other side, where a seemingly underdeveloped boy was sitting on another straw mat. The boy's limbs were so thin that his head seed larger than normal. But what surprised Brand was the boy's expression—not Joka's confusion or Maher's wariness, but a look of observation.
He was being observed.
Brand suddenly beca interested. He knew what had changed within him compared to a few months ago. After experiencing battles, killing, becoming a leader of over a thousand people, and possessing the strength of the Golden Domain, his identity was intentionally hidden now, but he knew certain things couldn't be concealed.
Such as his eyes and deanor.
In fact, few ordinary people could bear to look him in the eye now—but this boy could calmly observe him. Brand also carefully studied the boy, noting the dusty gray backpack beside his straw mat, unaware of its contents.
Finally, he looked up and saw the girl dressed as a boy in the back. She was also sowhat skinny, not particularly pretty but rather delicate, with a few freckles on her face—though the hut was dark, it appeared as bright as day in Brand's eyes, allowing him to see everything clearly.
Besides these few sowhat familiar faces, there were three other boys in the hut, apparently part of the sa group. However, this wasn't what Brand wanted to complain about.
What truly made him secretly curse was:
Such a small hut was supposed to accommodate eight people. By Martha above, even the third-rate university I attended back then wasn't this stingy, what a ridiculous ss!
...(To be continued, for more chapters, please visit qidian, support the author and read the original version!)
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