He seemed very happy, and Hitzfeld guessed that he regarded this place as a "population supplement."
It's always good to have more labor.
"I have one last question."
Hitzfeld sat on the bed and took a deep breath, looking at the pile of books at hand.
A book called "The Romance of Chivalry".
A collection of Aylwin's love poems.
A book entitled "Geography of Ancient Sara".
A book titled "Confessions of an Adventurer: Jessier's Adventures in Slaying a Dragon".
They are very, very worn out.
The paper of each book is severely yellowed, and the edges are full of pits and marks from being bitten by insects. Some are completely falling apart and need to be carefully sorted out before reading.
As a result, the characters in many places are blurred and damaged and cannot be read, so they are not even necessary for garbage collection.
"Those were all left by Ashley's mom."
Lindworm glanced at them indifferently.
"No one can understand these twisted strokes, meaningless things..."
As he spoke, he twisted his right hand behind his back and tapped his spine gently.
After all, he is old.
The average life expectancy of indigenous tribes is already low; 50 years old here is roughly equivalent to 70 years old in Port Wayne.
Hitzfeld didn't ask any more questions and let Lindworm leave on crutches.
Then she immediately called Ashley over.
"You just said your mother is from outside too?"
"Huh?" Ashley opened her mouth.
"I don't know... I just feel that she is different from other people in the village. She also left these things behind and taught me how to recognize these characters..."
"You know Sara?"
"Sara...language? Is that what it is?"
"Yes."
"No... I don't recognize everything. I can only recognize a little bit, the house, the birds, the people, the flowers, the sun... and there are many more that I don't recognize..."
"You don't recognize me, then when I asked you to borrow it last night, you were so--"
"Because this is what my mom left behind! And there are a lot of pictures in it! The pictures are also very beautiful~"
Ashley answered seriously, and after she answered, she saw the girl on the bed staring at her, grinning and smiling at her.
"Hey~"
"..."
Hitzfeld rubbed his temple and fell into deep thought.
"You said this was something your mother left behind... Where is your mother?"
"I left with the hunting party."
"Gone? Where did you go?"
"Go to Blade's Edge Cliff and enter the mist."
"? Why did they go into the fog?"
"It should be to find a way to leave Brays Island."
At this point, Ashley felt a little depressed.
“Grandpa Lindworm keeps saying it’s impossible, but he actually hopes the villagers can get away from Brays Island.”
"There is even a tradition in Worm Village that those who feel they are no longer qualified to be hunters can apply to join the annual Hot Wind Festival when they reach the appropriate age."
"Hot Wind Festival?"
"There is a period of time every year when hot winds blow around the island. During this time, the village will hold a sacrificial festival. At this time, some hunters will form a team, wear feather costumes and go into the fog."
Ashley nodded firmly.
"They are fighting for the hope of the remaining people. Amma did the same thing at that time!"
Savage tradition.
Hitzfeld was shocked.
Thick fog and wind, these two environmental factors are fundamentally conflicting.
Where there is thick fog, there is usually no wind. If there is wind, the thick fog will not exist but will be blown away by the wind.
If the Blade's Edge Cliff is really always covered with fog, then the village of Wom is equivalent to sending a bunch of people jumping off the cliff to their deaths every year!
How barbaric!
But in this case...
She glanced at Ashley.
Even if her mother's name was Britney Skye, she's probably gone...
Britney disappeared almost seventeen years ago, which is close to Ashley's rough impression of "twenty years".
outsider.
女性
The time is right too.
The probability that Ashley is Britney's daughter is very high.
This was foolish reasoning, and Hitzfeld had no excitement at all about discovering the truth.
Ignoring whether she was there, whether the Baron would be happy or sad to take her back, whether he would pay, and a series of other issues, the most important thing now was that they simply couldn't leave Brays Island.
Perhaps she could use her half-baked industrial knowledge to teach the villagers how to build crude aircraft.
But how much time would that waste?
Five years?
Or ten years?
Thinking of this, she couldn't help but feel a little resentful.
The locals here don’t know anything, right?
"……Um?"
Meanwhile, Hitzfeld suddenly became aware of something…potentially very strange.
"Ashley."
She looked up at the brown-skinned woman.
"Tell me more about what the villagers can do."
Chapter 24: The Strange Village
At night, in another remote stone house in the village, Frick struggled to open his eyes.
He had woken up a long time ago, but out of caution he hadn't shown any sign.
He clearly felt these natives treating his injuries, applying medicine and bandaging him, and getting him water to feed him.
He also had a rough idea of his current situation from their conversation.
"Worm... Brays Island..."
Frick muttered to himself as he sat up and leaned against the wall.
If this is really an isolated "high-altitude island" as he inferred, then it may not be easy to leave here.
Looking at the bedside lamp, Frick's eyelids twitched slightly.
Everything in Worm Village was very simple.
The house was a cave, and the bed and furniture were made of stone and wood. The so-called lamp was not a candle made of animal fat, but a kind of insect with a glowing tail, which was caught by the villagers and placed in a hollow bag made of burlap.
The brightness was too dim, and it was hard to see anything. But for Frick, the light was enough. He moved his body to the head of the bed, stretched out his left hand, and stared at the inside of his left wrist.
There is a very subtle raised fold on the skin there, which cannot be seen without careful observation.
Pinching the wrinkle with his right hand, Frick gritted his teeth and pulled hard.
呲——
After a teeth-grinding sound, a large piece of skin on the palm of his left hand was torn off, with only the base of the fingers still connected, barely hanging on his hand.
The pain made the man frown slightly. Without thinking much, he pulled out a short dagger from the only intact equipment on his body - a pair of lace-up boots, and began to quickly cut the flesh in the palm of his hand.
He is writing.
He wrote down the information about Worm Village, Brace Island, his own situation, and the information he inferred from the villagers' conversations that there was another gray-haired girl, Hitzfeld, who was also here, and watched as these characters slowly disappeared in the squirming of flesh and blood.
Then Flick waited.
Just leave this piece of flesh and blood open and wait slowly.
After about thirty or forty minutes, there was finally movement in the palm of my hand.
[Brace Island? There really is a gathering place for indigenous people? Then our Miss Britney should have been here too. Oh... If I could go back, I would definitely write a novel and sell it for money.]
"...This idiot!" Frick's face turned dark.
He continued to carve.
[You… said… so much… nonsense… because you think… it doesn’t hurt enough?]
Yes - the person opposite was Carlo. This two-way communication method was specially granted to them by the White Shadow Palace before they left.
Carlo quickly replied: [I'm actually fine, how about you, Captain?]
Frick wrote with a dark face: [Tell me what's going on over there.]
[Agents Ethan and Zafira are here with me. Agent Ethan's leg is broken, and Agent Zafira's hand is broken. They are both alive! But I'm not sure about the others. This damn place is too dangerous. If they are blown into the middle of the cliff, they will probably die...]
Carlo was simply in chatterbox mode, with characters constantly jumping in the flesh and blood on his palm, causing Frick's eyebrows to twitch wildly, and he wanted to rush to the other party and beat him up immediately.
Damn it, if you don’t mind the pain, can you please consider my feelings?
Although this little pain is not difficult to bear, but if you keep shaving... who can stand it?
After briefly warning Carlo to find a way to save himself and the two agents and to keep an eye out for signs of activity from the villagers of Worm, Frick quickly ended the call.
Pull the torn skin back again and carefully cover it on the palm of your hand so that its edges fit tightly.
The flesh began to wriggle as if it had life, growing together bit by bit, and after wiping off the blood, there was almost no flaw left to be seen.
Frick shook his left hand and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt that everything was back to normal.
Blood magic.
It is said that this is a technology learned by the royal family from a transaction with the Woodmen. It can achieve long-distance communication by transplanting the flesh and blood tissue of two people into each other's body and then stimulating this part of the flesh and blood.
As long as the transplant is successful, the distance is not a problem.
Hope everyone is safe.
Thinking of this, Frick lay back down.
He had six broken ribs.
He didn't plan to do anything else until he got better.
The next day something happened that surprised Frick but also seemed natural.
Hitzfeld came to him.
"I asked for help from Lindworm, and he promised to send a certain number of sky hunters to patrol the surrounding mountains."
