Chapter 357 Battle of Black Mountain (Before the War)
There was a legend widely circulated in Longsand County:
Looking out over the flat Ibe Plain, if the weather is clear, you can see the spire of the Heitao Town Bell Tower on the top of Black Mountain.

Later, it was verified by Aiel scholars that this sentence first appeared eighty years ago and was used by a Flan poet to describe the Golden Plains and the City of Longsong.

Then there were some new additions to the regional blackness of Qianhe Valley.

Logically speaking, the relative height of the Black Mountain is only about 40 meters, and the terrain of Langsand County gradually decreases from north to south, so this is purely a rumor.

Nidsal had heard this rumor a long time ago, but unfortunately he was unable to verify it this morning.

There is a dense forest hunting ground near Montenegro. The vegetation is steaming and the air is humid at night, but the temperature drops sharply in the morning.

When they got up and marched for morning prayer, they actually saw the summer morning mist.

The endless wheat fields were covered with a veil-like mist. As soon as the sun shone on them, the mist would melt away in the sunlight like an invisible dream.

In the gray fog, a large number of troops were marching along the dirt road in the countryside. Because there were more than 10,000 of them, they had to split into two roads and move forward.

It’s a pity that this dreamlike and beautiful scene was mixed with the smell of fireworks and corpses, and the screams of women and the cries of children were as faint as mist.

For professional military personnel such as the Ibe Knights on the march, it is impossible to set up supply stations along the way and order the supply stations to purchase supplies before the arrival of the army.

The knights' professionalism does not allow them to use such difficult operations.

So they had only one way to go, and that was to get food locally, which in practical terms meant - robbing!

“Open the door!”

Inside, the light was dim and the air was filled with the smell of earth and old wood.

The family of three sat at the table, holding the wooden spoon to eat rice porridge in horror and woodenness.

The middle-aged Kushite farmer hesitated, then slowly walked to the door and unlatched it with shaking hands.

The door was thrown open violently, knocking the middle-aged farmer to stumble. The night guards rushed in roughly, their armor flashing coldly in the dim light.

Without further ado, they quickly dispersed and began searching the house for valuables.

The peasant woman hugged her daughter and stood anxiously at the door, not daring to shout or stop them. She could only cry silently, watching her originally shabby but clean home become a mess.

The bandit-like night guards roughly rummaged through furniture and kicked aside sacks, searching for any hidden treasure.

"What do you want?" The middle-aged farmer stood up tremblingly. "I don't have anything valuable here."

The soldiers ignored my father's pleas and continued rummaging around, turning the crude pottery and wicker baskets into a mess.

One of the soldiers found a small wooden box hidden under the fireplace. He pulled out the box and kicked open the lid.

Dark yellow copper coins were dotted with a few silver-white dinars. The tall and strong armored soldier reached into the wooden box and grabbed a handful.

"That's all?" He sneered. "I know you unclean ones must have hidden more! Hand it over!"

The father shook his head in despair: "No, this is all our savings. We really have nothing left."

The armored soldier sneered and was about to speak when he saw a hint of white on the wooden board on the ground. He reached out and touched it, and indeed a piece of the board was lifted up.

"Wait, that's..."

Ignoring the anxious middle-aged farmer, the sergeant shouted directly, "Come on, give me a hand."

Several guards stepped forward, grabbed the head of the cloth bag, and together they pulled out several large bags of grain.

The armored soldier used a dagger to cut a hole in the cloth bag, and white rice crackers flowed out of the hole.

It was as if all the middle-aged farmer's blood had flowed out through the hole in the void.

"You're still saying no?" The armored sergeant grabbed a handful of wheat and smashed it on the middle-aged farmer's face.

The expression on the middle-aged farmer's face turned pale and blue. He looked back at his daughter and wife who were emaciated by hunger. He gritted his teeth, rushed forward, and pounced directly on the bag of grain.

"Are you looking for death?" The guard next to him was so scared by the middle-aged farmer who rushed over that he drew his sword. After he realized what was happening, he became furious.

He sheathed his sword and slapped the middle-aged farmer in the face.

The middle-aged farmer was beaten so hard that half of his face was swollen, but he still lay on the grain bag with determination and despair: "Please, at least let us keep the food and crops."

"Don't blame us if you don't hand it over!" A guard grabbed the middle-aged farmer by the collar and tried to pull him down.

But the farmer was so frightened that his neck shrank but his body refused to move. Veins on his fingers and arms bulged as he tightly guarded the sacks of grain.

"Please, just one bag of food, leave us some rations..." the farmer pleaded hoarsely and desperately.

"You asked for it!" The armored sergeant impatiently drew out his arming sword and stabbed it into his back.

"No——" the peasant woman screamed.

The armed sword pierced directly into the middle-aged farmer's back. The farmer's body shook violently, and blood gushed out from the corner of his mouth, soaking half of the bag of rice crackers red in the blink of an eye.

"No no no no--"

The peasant woman with sunken cheeks seemed to be crazy, and her screams kept echoing in the house.

She left her crying little daughter behind and bumped her head against the armored soldier. The armored soldier didn't move at all, but she was almost knocked to the ground by the recoil.

"I'll strangle you to death, I'll strangle you to death!" The farmer's wife pressed her chicken claw-like fingers on the armored soldier's neck, and strangled him with all her strength.

The armored sergeant immediately stuck out his tongue, tilted his head and rolled his eyes.

The guards around laughed in unison.

After having some fun, the armored soldier had no more desire to bother with the ugly peasant woman. He raised his hand and stabbed her with a sword, entering her heart and exiting from her back.

As the bodies fell, they lay crosswise on top of each other, splashing blood, the smell of blood covering up the smell of stale wood.

"What about the other one?" Looking at the peasant girl who was frightened to the point of urinating by the wall, the armored sergeant looked around and asked, "Do you want to play?"

"Forget it, it stinks."

"She is unclean, and may have a dirty disease."

"Just kill him. He will starve to death if we don't kill him. Let's do good deeds."

A bearded guard drew out his sword and walked towards the little girl: "Don't be afraid, it will only take a moment..."

"Get out of here!" The guard who was walking towards the little girl was kicked in the waist and rolled on the spot.

He stood up and raised his head. Just as he was about to curse, he saw the hem of his silk robe fluttering.

"Good morning, Count Domenico." The night guard was instantly more docile than a lamb, and his bent fighting posture smoothly turned into a hat-lifting bow.

The smell of blood in the room made Domenico wrinkle his nose: "What's going on?"

"This family refused to hand over food and tried to attack us, so we fought back." The armored soldier pushed everyone away and said with a forced smile.

"Did this girl attack you too?"

The people present looked at each other, but no one said anything.

"Take the food and get out of here." Domenico knew what was going on even with his butt, but after all, they were dogs of the Fran and Lea families.

It is not appropriate for a farmhand to beat the master's dog.

He took the little girl's hand, walked out of the house, and prevented her from looking at the two bodies.

But there were still corpses everywhere outside the house, including those of neighbors and uncles.

Domenico covered the little girl's eyes. The little girl's shoulders twitched up and down. She seemed to be crying, but no tears could flow and no sound could be made.

These are all Domenico's fellow tribesmen. He is also a Kushite. How did things get to this point?

Carrying the peasant girl on his horse, Domenico galloped all the way, as if he wanted to vent all the anger and helplessness in his heart.

But he didn't run for long before his destination came into view.

In the forest on the edge of the Black Mountain, the fog has mostly dissipated.

The mist was like a veil, and in the rising sun it looked like a golden-red brocade scarf.

In the fresh breeze, butterflies danced with the fragrance of flowers and the smell of blood.

Domenico stuffed his water bottle and dry food into the little girl's hands and pushed her back: "Let's go to the forest. Don't come out until the war is over."

"When will the war end?" The mute girl was pushed two steps into the forest. She turned around and spoke for the first time, "Tomorrow? Or the day after tomorrow?"

He opened his mouth, but the words got stuck in his throat and nothing came out.

Just as he licked his lips, not knowing what to say, he heard a series of popping sounds like popping beans.

“Bang, bang, bang—bang!”

"what--"

The deep sound of a horn representing a call to action followed.

Domenico's face changed drastically, and he took off and ran towards the horse.

But he dared not delay the task assigned to him by his grandmother.

But he felt something was wrong after running only two steps. Why did it seem like something was pulling him? He looked down and saw that it was still the girl.

She grabbed Domenico's clothes and was dragged seven or eight meters away. Looking into Domenico's eyes, she still asked stubbornly:

"When will the war end?"

Domenico was silent. He squatted down, looked at the tearful eyes, and smeared the mud on the little girl's face:

"You go north, keep going north, and when you see a black and red flag, the war is over."

(End of this chapter)