Chapter 594 Boundary

Novgorod Grand Duchy, Karelia, Dragon's Nest.

Lothar stood on the edge of the cliff, with the bottomless abyss at his feet. The wind and snow were raging, and the wind was biting. He didn't feel much when it blew on him. He could feel that his taste, smell, and perception were all tending to be similar to those of the ghost dragon when he was alive.

If this continues, the ghost dragon might really occupy his body, and it's hard to say whether he will be resurrected from the dead.

The girl carried a basket woven with vines, which was full of fluorescent plants. It should be a kind of fungus that grows on the breath of the dragon.

She is no longer an ordinary person now. There is a faint dragon breath in her body, just like the dragon warrior Torle sent by Shemaier to fight, but it is much weaker.

Lothar guessed that it might be that when the ghost dragon's consciousness was dominant, it used the dragon blood it got to improve her life level. It probably caught this woman back not to use her as a reserve food, but to "use" her.

Looking at the abyss under her feet, she felt dizzy and hurriedly retracted her sight.

"Are you sure you can fly, right?"

She asked tremblingly.

"Don't worry, Miss Rogneda."

Lothar nodded with a smile, black scales covering his body, and a pair of broad flesh wings extended from his back.

This image frightened Miss Rogneda a little. She took a step back, wondering: "Are you a dragon, or Lothar?"

"Of course it's Lothar."

Lothar asked again: "Are you ready?"

"Wait, wait a minute."

Before she finished speaking, Lothar had already stepped into the air.

The sudden feeling of weightlessness made her scream.

Are your wings just for show!

Fly, fly!

Lothar did not move, his golden eyes sparkled in the wind and snow, and they were descending faster and faster.

Until the two men could no longer be seen from above.

He suddenly spread his wings.

When Rogneda opened her eyes again, they were already gliding in the sky.

The girl hugged Losa's neck, and the biting cold wind made her sniff hard.

They flew over the ruins of the town where only dead branches remained, and even the broken walls could not be called ruins: "There are people there, are they from your family?"

Rogneda shook his head: "I don't know, maybe it's the serfs from the farm below, they come to the ruins to look for some useful things like ironware. Don't throw me down, I don't want to stay here anymore."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Go to Constantinople with you, you also need me as a guide."

The girl stretched out her hand to point the direction: "From the Neva River, go upstream to Lake Ladoga, then take a boat south, walk a short distance in the Principality of Tver, and then go to the Dnieper River to take the amber merchant's ship and go all the way south to the Black Sea."

"But be careful of those amber merchants, they are both merchants and robbers. It is also common to rob some slaves or plunder the wealth of some villages as commodities along the way."

Losa was still ready to go south.

If this is the world made up of Guilong's memories, there must be an "end of the world", which may be an impenetrable wall of air or endless nothingness.

He plans to go and see.

See what the consequences will be if he breaks away from the limits of the world that can be created in Guilong's memory.

If he can really reach Constantinople, he also plans to ask Anna for help.

If there is Anna in this world.

Lothar smiled and replied: "They should be careful."

Reality.

Central Nile Delta.

A small team of Crusaders, driving carriages, camels, riding on various pack animals, loaded with boxes of jewelry, exquisite fabrics, large gold and silver utensils, candlesticks, and tableware.

Many of these treasures are stained with blood.

They raided a Saracen village, and with the help of surprise, after paying most of the casualties, they successfully broke into the manor of the pagan leader, burned and looted, and vented.

They looked nervous, and someone looked back from time to time.

With the cry of an eagle, the Crusaders cried out: "The pagan falcons are catching up!"

"I heard from some knights that in the Holy Land, as long as you see the pagan falcons, it means that the Saracens are not far away. We are so slow that we can't escape their pursuit!"

"Or, let's leave these carts behind. We can't go back at this rate."

"This is the wealth we exchanged for our lives!"

"This is a testimony of our piety and a manifestation of our achievements!"

Many Crusaders were unwilling.

As long as they bring these treasures home, their participation in the Crusade will be worthwhile. They will sell the inconvenient ones to Latin merchants in the port of Semanud, and then take the easy-to-carry ones back to their hometown.

They seem to have seen that the territories and reputations that they dared not dream of in the past are waving to them.

As long as they have money, even ordinary soldiers can take advantage of this to become noble lords.

Richard once said that he would even sell London for a price if someone offered.

There are many lords like him who sell official positions and titles in Europe, and those city nobles often come from this way.

Is this some insignificant wealth?

No, this represents their future beautiful life, and represents the beautiful fantasy that they have imagined countless times along the way!

"Then you can keep it. I give up the ownership of these properties!"

A knight sneered. He carried a lot of gold and silver that was easy to carry. Although most of the income was on these carriages and camels, he still decisively chose to give up and urged his mount to speed up and rushed out.

The Crusaders struggled, but in the end, no one was willing to give up.

They climbed a sand dune, and someone shouted: "We are almost at Lake Bulus, brothers, work harder, we will be back to Semanud soon."

The Crusaders cheered excitedly.

Their equipment was not sophisticated. Many people wore old armor with blood stains and many holes stripped from Saracens. Only a few of them were knights, and more were just farmers who lost their land, so-called vagrants.

They were the prototypes of the Children's Crusade, hoping to get wealth and land by punishing pagans and get rid of their poverty, but those who got rich were always a minority, and the vast majority of poor Crusaders ended up being buried in a foreign land.

However.

Just as they cheered, smoke and dust exploded in the distance.

In the sky, a group of vultures were like sharks that smelled blood, circling over people's heads. These beasts, regarded by the locals as messengers of death, cast a haze over the hearts of the Crusaders.

Soon.

A group of black cavalry rushed in front of them like a ghost.

The leader of them raised his lance high, with a dead head stuck on the lance, which was the head of the Crusader knight who had just escaped.

These black Gurams had cruel smiles on their faces, like a group of jackals wandering in the desert.

"Hahaha, they don't really think they can return to their territory with so many treasures, do they?"

"If it weren't for their hands to obtain these treasures, they would have been slaughtered by us on the way here."

"Stop talking nonsense, we will fight quickly and make a quick decision. Don't forget what happened in Rashid that day-these pagans of the Cross also have very terrifying power in their hands."