"You stupid northern barbarian, do you know the rules of dueling here?" Sir Linton took off his face-covering helmet, and a weather-beaten old face appeared in front of everyone.
The sinister triangular eyes like an eagle looked extremely cruel. Thick scars extended from the corners of his mouth to his cheekbones. Wrinkles as wide as caterpillars were spread across his face unscrupulously like ravines between mountain peaks. .
Simon saw that Ser Linton's visor was lined with soft armor and that he had a leather turban on his head. It must be quite uncomfortable to wear a face-covering helmet if you don't wrap it thickly on your head.
"Hmm, that's interesting. Why don't you tell me about it?" Simon stepped off the horse.
Since Sir Linton did not ride a horse, it was obviously extremely unfair and dishonorable for Simon to duel him on horseback.
"I won't make any detours with you. The victorious party can take away the armor from the defeated, and the defeated must pay a ransom to the victor, otherwise they will become his slaves. How about that?" Linton said without any hesitation. He greedily glanced at Simon's strong long-sleeved mail with a gorget, and licked his dry lips.
"Is that so? That's good. Let your attendants prepare the ransom now. I have to go to Rothenburg in a hurry!" Simon moved his joints, not caring at all about Sir Linton who was so angry that his mouth was smoking. .
"Hell, you will pay a price that you will regret your whole life for your arrogance and underestimation of the enemy!" Sir Linton's facial features were squeezed into a ball because of anger, looking both ferocious and scary.
"Master, be careful!" Fatty said to Simon worriedly. According to his intuition, this Sir Linton should not be a character to be trifled with.
A gust of strong wind blew across the bare land. The farmers in the field shuddered, pulled at the corners of their clothes lifted by the cold wind, stood up and looked at the duel between their master and the strange knight at the entrance of the village in the distance. .
"May God bless this strange and heroic knight to be able to make this hell-deserving Lord Linton go to where he belongs with one sword. I mean, at least be able to chop off his head with one sword." A man wearing a tattered straw hat The old farmer held a piece of yellow dogtail grass in his mouth and waved the wooden fork in his hand excitedly.
"Hey, keep your voice down, the butler is here!" The young farmers next to the old farmer also seemed to be disgusted with their lord, Sir Linton. When they saw the butler coming this way, they lightly arched the old farmer. farmer.
At the entrance of the village, Simon and Linton, who had put on their face-covered helmets again, had drawn out their respective half-swords, walking in a T-step and looking at each other cautiously.
"Haha!"
Sir Linton took the lead in launching the attack. What surprised Simon was that he actually used the Italian roc to spread its wings, bent his knees and straightened the sword in his hand to slash at Simon.
"Hey, Ping!"
Simon quickly raised his hand to block Sir Linton's attack. Linton's sword made a sharp friction sound along the blade of Simon's sword and slid towards Simon's hand. However, it was blocked by the thick cross sword in front of Simon's sword hilt. Blocked.
"What the hell is this?" Sir Linton was a little surprised. Apparently he had never seen a cross sword that was so long, thick and solid compared to the sword in his hand.
However, Simon didn't give him time to think. He forcefully shook off the sword in Sir Linton's hand that was stuck in his sword lattice, turned around, and took advantage of the situation to slash Sir Linton sideways. The right shoulder is not protected by mail.
"Hell no!"
Seeing that he couldn't block it, Linton's brain worked quickly and he made a judgment. He took a step back without hesitation, and at the same time straightened the sword in his hand and took a defensive posture.
"snort."
Seeing that the blow was in vain, Simon did not continue to attack rashly. Instead, he carefully repositioned his T-step and stared at Sir Linton's movements.
You must know that this kind of life-and-death struggle in reality is not like a game. You may hit the opponent with your sword, but the opponent's attack on you will not stop. The final possible result is that your sword cuts his arm, but his sword pierces your neck, which is not worth the loss.
"The stupid donkey from the north was just warming up!" Although Sir Linton's face was covered by the thick mask of the visor, Simon could still feel what the old and ugly face behind the mask looked like now. A mocking look.
"Go to hell!"
Simon felt that every cell in his body was burning. He raised the sword in his hand and slashed at Sir Linton's right neck. At the same time, the sword in Sir Linton's hand also moved.
"Block, block me!" Simon's mind went blank. He threw everything behind him and stared at the sword in Linton's hand, focusing on the movements in Linton's hand.
For a moment, Simon seemed to feel that time was slowed down many times. Everything else in the world disappeared, leaving only him and the sword in his hand, Linton and the sword in Linton's hand.
"Ah ha, I took the bait!" Simon's face instantly brightened, and he saw that Linton did not choose to retreat and dodge like before, but turned the sword in his hand to block it.
"You little bastard, let me open your throat with my sword so that you can never speak such arrogant words again!" The moment he fended off Simon's attack, Sir Linton grinned and raised his sword, intending to step forward and stab Simon in the neck.
But Simon leaned down at the same time, leaning to the right while taking a step back to the right with his left foot, and the sword in his hand struck Sir Linton's defenseless left neck unceremoniously.
"Hmm!"
With a painful groan, Sir Linton not only stabbed the sword in his hand, but also because of the severe pain in his left neck, he instinctively covered the wound on his neck with one hand, trying to stop the pain in his neck. Blood gushes out like a spring.
"Well done!" For a moment, the fat man and others who witnessed the bloody arrow shooting out of Linton's neck, as well as the farmers in the farmland, couldn't help but applaud.
"call!"
Sir Linton, who just wanted to raise his head and stand up again, felt a strong gust of wind hit him. Then his head sank and he fell hard to the ground. The wound on his left neck seemed to be torn a little wider.
"Even if you wear leather gloves and hit him on the head with a mask on, your hands will still hurt!" Simon shook his hand, panting heavily, holding the sword and walking slowly towards the pool of blood that was getting bigger and bigger. Lord Linton.
"If you were wearing hooded mail and a gorget, you could have withstood this blow." Simon looked at Linton's unprotected neck with a large wound under his visor. , and the simple sleeveless chain mail he was wearing, shook his head.
"This, this..." The middle-aged soldier of the Linton family on the side was already stagnant in place. Looking at the owner who was gradually becoming silent in the pool of blood on the ground, the expression on his face changed from surprise to joy, and from joy to bitterness. , and changed from bitterness to confusion.
The middle-aged soldier felt that his back was soaked with sweat again. The back of his cheap, beige cotton armor, which was covered with patches, had been soaked repeatedly with sweat. In addition to leaving an unpleasant and strong smell of sweat, some white crystals were also left behind. At this time, those crystals were mixed with various filth and were once again soaked with sweat. The sweat soaked it, leaving a disgusting layer of pulp on the back of the cotton armor.
"It seems that the ransom cannot be obtained," Simon ignored Sir Linton who was staring at him unwillingly on the ground and twitching from time to time. His eyes swept over the middle-aged soldier, the farmers in the field and Linton's housekeeper, "Everyone Everyone present witnessed all this, and we had a fair duel under the witness of God, which ended in the unfortunate death of Sir Linton."
"No, that's right, Sir, you are saying that now all of Master Linton's equipment belongs to you." The middle-aged soldier's voice was trembling.
"By the way, I have always had a question, why is your territory so poor, but Sir Linton has such a good visor?" Simon took a roll of rags from Gabriel's hand and wiped the sword The blood left behind at Linton.
As the middle-aged soldier narrated, Simon gradually understood the whole story. It turned out that this Sir Linton was an out-and-out armor enthusiast. In the past two years, in addition to spending all his savings, he also borrowed a sum of money from a Jewish moneylender and obtained it from an artisan in Milan. Customized this precious visor helmet.
Now Simon's era is not as exaggerated as in the last century, as long as you have a horse, a sword and a mail, you can make the surrounding little nobles bow their heads. But if you have a good pair of armor, it can not only save your life when necessary , and also make you highly respected in the aristocratic circle.
While Sir Linton received his custom-made visor, his realm fell into deep financial crisis. Therefore, Linton asked his relatives who were counselors in the nearby baron's court to help him forge two claims, then borrowed money from everywhere to recruit troops, broke through the defenses of the other two knights in one fell swoop, plundered a large amount of wealth, and collected With the huge ransom sent by the two knight families, they got rid of the financial crisis.
Unexpectedly, the greedy Sir Linton was not satisfied. After the war, he also wanted to buy himself a strong riveted long-sleeved hooded and throat-protecting mail to replace the old sleeveless mail he was wearing now.
This piece of chain mail, which was so easy for the Count and Duke, was not something that a knight who had made a small war fortune could afford.
Therefore, in addition to taxing his people more and more, Sir Linton also took the idea of the woods in the territory, asking the steward to lead a large number of people to cut down the trees, and then sell the wood to lords in other places who needed building materials. and businessmen.
Over-harvesting did bring Sir Linton a huge amount of money, but his territory also became barren and deserted, and the ecological damage was very serious. Linton didn't care about this. He only knew that he collected the money to buy new chain armor, and then personally took the money to Milan, found the best local armor master, and put forward his own customization requirements.
"Master Linton's new mail armor will have to be made in the spring of next year. Otherwise, as you said, Master Linton wearing the mail armor with a hood and gorget can definitely withstand that fatal blow. ." The middle-aged soldier swallowed and carefully observed Simon's expression.
"Ha, then this visor helmet is an advantage for me." Simon took the visor helmet with red blood on the padded lining from the fat man's hand, glanced at the still warm body of Sir Linton on the ground not far away, and curled his lips. Smile slightly.
