Arod looked at the so-called soldiers standing in front of him. They were of varying age, with old men with more teeth falling than they had existed, and silly young boys. Some of the recruited farmers were sucking their noses in the cold wind with bare heads, some wore felt hats that smelled strangely, and looked at Sir Wendell and his sons riding horses with different expressions. The old man looked dull and numb, while the young man looked excited and uneasy.

"Father, this is this?" Arod pointed to the twelve farmers in front of him and asked Sir Wendell in confusion.

"Yes, we can also get twelve armed light infantry." Sir Wendell did not directly answer Arod's question. He kicked the horse under his crotch with both legs, moved forward, and then turned around the twelve uneasy farmers.

"Light infantry?" After hearing this, Arod's chin almost fell down. In front of them, the twelve yellow-faced and thin farmers, their clothes were worn and their feet were not worn, but were wrapped in dirty linens, and their movements were slow and stiff. These were the soldiers in the mouth of his father Sir Wendell. This was too far apart in Arod's powerful medieval infantry with armor wrapped around Arod's heart.

"What's wrong?" Sir Wendell asked in confusion when he saw his youngest son Arod looked stunned.

"But father, they don't even have decent weapons?" Aruod stretched out his right hand and pointed at the militia. Indeed, these people were empty-handed, so how could they go on battle to kill the enemy?

"Oh, yes, how many spears are there?" Sir Wendell nodded and thought it made sense. Duke Mason's feudal decree stipulated that the soldiers and light infantry brought by the vassals must bring their own weapons. If there is no weapon, they will only be treated as servitude rather than soldiers.

"There are only five spears in our arsenal that can be used after repair." Aruod spread his hands and said. He had indeed tried his best, but his family was too poor, and he could only find five broken spears in the entire arsenal.

"Um." Sir Wendell frowned at the twelve farmers in front of him. He had already borrowed a lot in order to prepare for this expedition, and he could no longer spend money on the weapons and equipment of the soldiers.

"What's so troublesome?" Yifu stepped forward impatiently. His tall figure and fierce expression made the farmers retreat like frightened deer. Ifu stretched his legs and stood up from his horse. He looked up at the crowd below and continued loudly, "Whoever has ever participated in the battle, and they all stood in the front row."

As soon as Yifu finished speaking, the farmer in groups of three or three squeezed into the front from behind, and there were exactly six people. Except for a gray-haired old man, the other five of the six farmers were all fierce and fierce.

"Well, these people are indeed heroes who have fought several battles with me." Sir Wendell nodded with satisfaction. His chin touched the silver cross neck under his neck, making a loud and crisp sound.

"Give the spear to these heroes, and the others will go home to get the pitchfork stick." Yifu waved his hand, turned his face and said to Aruod.

"But, the spear is still not enough." Aruod looked at the six people. There were only five spears in his hand, so it was still a question of whom to allocate them.

"Except him." Yifu raised his hand and pointed to the gray-haired old man, and then rode his horse leisurely and left leisurely without looking back. He had enough of these trivial things. He wanted to go to the tavern for fun before leaving his hometown.

"Why? It's just because he's an old man?" Aruod didn't understand what Yifu meant. Could it be that because he was an old man, he didn't even give him weapons?

"If is right. The old man is called Jodo, and everyone calls him a coward Jodo." Sir Wendell bent down and whispered in Arod's ear.

"Coward Jodo?" Aruod was a little curious. He turned his head to look at the farmers who were going to get weapons. Old Jodo seemed to understand Yifu's choice and followed the others down and returned home silently.

"Yes, he has followed me to fight before, and participated in almost every battle, but it was unscathed. Whenever the battle was at its most intense, he could never find him." Sir Wendell sighed, looking at Old Jodo's back. In fact, he could not have participated in this battle, but there was really not enough manpower. And Old Jodo's strong request, Sir Wendell agreed helplessly.

Sir Wendell's words made Arod very curious. If he was a coward, why did he strongly ask to join the war? This contradiction made Arod puzzled. Perhaps everyone has his own reasons, and Arod could only pray for his own destiny at this time.

"Arod, my son, come with me to the tavern." After arranging the soldiers' affairs, Sir Wendell became very happy. He called Arod to the tavern in the territory. It was a dilapidated wooden house. The door was nailed together with old wooden strips. A sign with beer cups hung above the door. The wooden strips were unable to close and always had a gap. Through the noise in the tavern was opened. When the wooden door was pushed open, a heat wave that was different from the coolness outside rushed towards him.

"Is this the medieval tavern?" Arod stood behind Sir Wendell and saw all kinds of people crowded with people, some with swords hanging on them, and fat maids in an apron squeezed over among these people, making exclamations from time to time. It was someone who stretched out his hand to attack her sensitive parts. Whenever someone succeeded, there would always be a raucous laughter around him. It could be said that this was a world full of vulgar men.

"Come on, come on." A group of people surrounded a wooden table. There were two strong men wrestling their wrists in the center. Beer cups were placed around them. Aruod recognized that sitting on the left was his annoying elder brother Yifu. He was against Yifu a bald man in leather armor. Their competition was at the most critical moment. Both of them were blushing and exerting all their strength. The muscles on their arms rose in pieces of flesh.

"Oh, If will actually meet an opponent." Sir Wendell asked for two glasses of beer, handed Arod one and commented while drinking, a little surprised that there was someone in his territory who could tie the wrestle with his son.

"He is carrying a weapon." Aruod saw a long sword tied to the waist of the bald man. The man's hideous expression made Aruod a little worried that the other party would draw the sword, because Yifu's usual sharpness did not stop even when he wrestled his wrist.

"Is that right? It turns out to be a mercenary. It's a pity that we can hire him if we have any extra money." Sir Wendell drank his beer indifferently. This beer may not have fermented enough. Arod drank like a cat urine, and he had to push most of the wine to his father.

"Hey, you're out of your way, you're not going to have enough energy to breastfeed. Did you fuck a woman last night? Haha, I'm about to win." Yifu stared at the bald man in front of him and grinned and laughed.

"Huh, it's damn." The bald man shouted angrily, but his foreign accent made everyone around him laugh, which made him even more angry and his face turned red.

"Hey, it's the British." The last word of the bald man was in his own local language. Arod's eyes lit up. This guy turned out to be an Englishman. But England was separated by an English Channel. How could he run into the inland of the Holy Roman Empire in this underdeveloped place?

Just when Aruod was puzzled, Yifu poured the bald man's handboard on the table and won the victory. The people around him cheered and supported his fellow countrymen and won the victory. The bald man was extremely angry but helpless.

"Okay, it's time for you to pay now." Yifu picked up the cup on the table, raised his head and drank the beer inside, and then said to the bald man.

"There is no money in the nest." The bald man sat on the chair with a angrily humming, drank his beer and said to Ifu. The people around him were quiet. They looked at Ifu, who was known for his rough temper in this territory, and even Aruod couldn't help but worry.

"Oh? No money? Are you looking for death?" Yifu's eyes narrowed. He felt that he was fooled. His hands were unconsciously placed on his waist. The bald man stared at Yifu with his eyes tightly. His muscles were tense. Seeing that a bloody incident was about to happen here, a slightly tender voice sounded.

"Please wait." Aruod walked between the two of them. He looked at his brother, and then looked at which mercenary from Britain.

"Get away from Arude or I'll let you take a wound, too." Yifu cursed rudely, but Arude knew that he would not do anything because their father was next to him, and Yifu's hand relaxed.

"Ni wants the god horse?" The bald man frowned and looked at Aruod who was inserted into confusion. He had no acquaintances in this remote village, and the boy in front of him seemed to know him at all.

"Why should my brother kill someone for a bet?" Aruod said to Ifu calmly.

"What does this matter to you? I tell you that no one can owe me Yifu's debts. If this stinky foreigner doesn't give me the money, he won't want to go out alive today." Yifu waved his hand and pushed the crowded bystander to the ground, and said arrogantly.

"You won't get a twitch." The foreigner shook his head, smelled himself with his nose and then retorted.

"Okay, you really have no money from the foreigner?" Aruod thought for a while and turned his head to ask the bald man.
Chapter completed!