Chapter 118 Escape (Part 1)

"Wait! Wait!"

The translator was panicking. He kept shaking the old witch's shoulders and begging. The old witch closed her eyes tightly, looking unmoved, but in fact, she was not. She was holding back to maintain her dignity. After all, she once said that I had offended the gods, and she would not forgive me unless I paid the price. But now, not only did I not make a confession that satisfied her, but I also threatened them even more. If this witch gave in, would the gods she mentioned still count? Of course they counted, at least that's what she insisted on answering now. She opened her eyes, staring at me with cloudy eyes, and her thin, shriveled lips were also tightly closed. The followers beside her had long been on pins and needles, and they turned their heads to look at this stubborn old woman, hoping that at this time she could point out a clear choice for the confused people present!

"It seems you are not going to give in, old witch!"

I feel like I have all the initiative in my hands, these bastards. As long as I torture this bastard bit by bit, it won't just be his flesh and blood that will be hurt, but also the hearts of these bastards!

"laugh!"

I stabbed with my right hand again, leaving a bloody hole on the neck of the rotten-legged guy in my hand.

The boy with rotten feet cried like a half-grown child and wanted to reach out and touch the wound.

"laugh!"

My answer to this rotten-footed fellow’s dishonesty was very clear: the fourth bloody hole on his neck.

Well, this time the rotten-footed boy finally behaved himself. He could only stand there and let me hold his neck. Let him cry. Let him be. Can crying kill me? I hope he cries until his voice is hoarse. I want to see if this old witch's heart is made of stone. The crying of the rotten-footed boy finally touched the hearts of everyone present. They began to beg the old witch collectively. Even the bloody neck and painful expression of the rotten-footed boy made the young girl burst into tears. The old witch sat in the middle, and her eyes, which were originally open, were closed again. The reason was to prevent those who disturbed her judgment.

"Shut up! You bunch of uncivilized barbarians!"

I'm fed up with their noise, they are just like a bunch of sparrows, chattering and chattering, which not only affects the old witch, but also me! These idiots! I once again put the bloody gun tip against the rotten-footed boy's neck, roughly a little below his bloody holes. I was afraid that he would be stabbed to death. But just when the gun tip was about to enter his flesh, the rotten-footed boy's scream was much more effective than my intimidation. The rotten-footed boy shut up in a moment! "It seems that you haven't thought it through, am I right?"

I questioned the old witch. I knew she couldn't understand me, but she should be able to understand what I meant and what I wanted to express.

But the strangest phenomenon happened. The damn old woman remained unmoved. It seemed that my decision to yell at everyone to be quiet was a wrong one?

"Hey, are you still playing dumb?"

As I said this, I raised the gun again, in front of everyone, and this time, the sons of bitches were frightened, and they all nodded and bowed to me as if to apologize. No matter how much they talked, I would not give them a chance, after all, I was a person of little influence, and even if they praised me to the point of being ecstatic, they could not give me any substantial help.

"Hey, you!"

I looked at the translator and yelled, "Now tell this old bastard of yours to ask her what her attitude is. Look at my companion. If he doesn't accept treatment now, everyone here will die!"

"Calm down! Calm down Romans, I urge you to calm down, I beg for your patience!"

The translator kept trying to comfort me in a humble manner, holding out his hand in the hope that I would remain calm. In response, he once again leaned over and spoke into the old witch's ear.

This old guy, I don't know whether the translation's words contained any drugs or something else, the wrinkles on this old man's face slowly stretched out as he spoke, and then his expression began to become solemn.

Did she finally let go of the hurdle in her heart, or did she start to waver after hearing the threat from the translator? She slowly opened her eyes, stood up in full view of everyone, turned around and walked into a thatched house behind her. Not long after, I saw her holding a wooden bowl filled with various medicines that I couldn't even name.

She held the medicine in her hand and said a few words to me. The translator immediately began to repeat, "The herbs in this wooden bowl are very precious, and they may be effective for your companion."

"Well, is that all?"

"Yeah, that's right!"

Hey, this guy is really brave enough. Does this tactless guy think I am a fool? Is it me who should use this medicine and then give it to this idiot?

"So, you, you guys now!"

I pointed my musket at them and said, "Prepare the medicine for me, and then!" I pointed at the girls hiding behind the crowd and secretly wiping their tears and said, "You come and heal my companions!"

The girls must have been scared by me. They looked at me with empty eyes and pointed at themselves, obviously unable to believe such a fact.

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"What are you dawdling for? Hurry up!"

Following my scolding, the girls were frightened at first, and then they quickly ran away.

I saw them gathered around the old witch, and she slowly crushed the herb and chewed it in her mouth. After working for a long time, she finally filled a wooden bowl with it.

"Tsk, so the treatment is all saliva! But it's good, at least they brought out the real stuff."

I felt a little sick in my heart, and I rubbed the hand that had taken the medicine on the clothes of the rotten-footed boy.

The girls held their bowls and walked past me tremblingly. They lowered their heads and dared not breathe. I put the tip of my musket against the rotten-footed boy's jaw, fearing that some of the girls would rush over. I stopped three of the five girls, and the remaining two, who looked thin and frightened, were allowed to approach Andrew because they were timid, so I was relieved to let them treat Andrew.

The two girls came to Andrew step by step with bowls in their hands, divided the work slightly, and then one pulled off the chain mail while the other began to apply medicine.

They were so scared that their fingers holding the mail were shaking and their faces were as pale as a sheet of paper. How could this be used to treat Andrew?

Practicing every day is like dancing. I've had enough!

(End of this chapter)