"The queen said that we must find out where the boy came from, and let the guy admit that he was the prince sent to assassinate him, but he could not speak Westeros at all, and even in dialect."

Walking down the stairs of the corridor, Kamp complained to his companions: "So don't expect this task to be completed at all."

Companion Will said, "How to check if you can't speak? As for the task behind, as long as we tell the public that he has already recruited it, who can come and preside over justice for that kid?"

"Yes, he is not a Westeros anyway." Kemp said, subconsciously licking the corner of his mouth, and the remaining oil of the dinner was licked clean by him.

"I suspect he is Bravos, with a tender skin and a very obvious whip."

"Maybe it a descendant of some nobleman of Bravos?"

"Dueen of the nobles? Does Bravos have nobles?" Kamp said: "But it doesn't matter, no matter whether he is, it's the same if he dies. I guess he can't live tonight."

"The Queen is going to let you do that?"

"She didn't say it." Kamp shrugged. "Maybe I'll forget that kid."

The two chatted as if they were following the stone stairs to the deepest part of the ground. However, before they could get close enough, Kamp suddenly stopped, shrugged his nose, and looked at his companion.

"Did you smell something?"

"I have a cold and can't smell it." Will said, "What's there?"

"The smell of blood, and a little fishy."

"Isn't this normal here? Kemp, don't forget what we do." Will said angrily: "Maybe the air outside smells so good that you forget the smelly interrogation room."

"Maybe." Kamp nodded half-believingly and continued down the stairs with indifferent care, but his hand was already placed at the hilt of the sword at his waist.

He always feels something is wrong.

Compared to Camp, his companion Will was not at all prepared and lived in the interrogation room at the bottom of the dungeon for many years. Wilk had never encountered any special situation, and he did not think that there would be an accident here.

So compared to his companions, he walked swaggeringly, and when he arrived at the door, he pushed the door open without any warning.

Then he saw a bloody scene like a slaughterhouse in a corner of this not-so-large basement.

In a corner of the interrogation room, red, white, yellow and green, various viscous liquids and organs pulled down from the long table and flowed all over the floor. The white epidermis, which should have been skin, was now torn like rags, piled up on the tabletop and mixed with organs, which was particularly disgusting.

Although he was responsible for interrogating prisoners for many years, when he saw this scene, Will still felt a strong vomiting. However, compared to this, he cared more about another thing - the prisoner tied to a pillar was missing!

"What did you see?" Seeing that his companion suddenly stopped when he pushed open the door, Kamp nervously pulled out the sword.

"Yes-" Will opened his mouth in front of him to warn him, but a red soldering iron suddenly popped out from the shadow behind the door on the left, and accurately and fatally inserted into his mouth that had just opened!

laugh--

A strange evaporation sound followed. Will, the interrogator, opened his mouth, wanted to scream but couldn't scream because of the blockage of the throat. Finally, he rolled his eyes and twitched and left.

It sounded slow, but in fact, it took only five or six seconds from the time he pushed the door to fainting. Due to the narrowness of the interrogation room door, Kemp didn't even know what the partner had encountered!

But when Will fell to the ground, he quickly saw it clearly.

The young white-faced prisoner who should have been tied up actually broke free!

At this time, he was standing a few steps behind the door of the interrogation room, holding a red soldering iron in his left hand sneered at him!

"You will regret it, boy!" A companion inserted one into his mouth. At the moment, the boy was holding another in his hand. Kamp couldn't help but be furious. He didn't know what was going on. He held the sword in his hands and rushed towards the target in anger!

The livestock that should have been slaughtered off at will, and they were firmly controlled by the toys in their hands. Unexpectedly, they would be backfired, which made the interrogator Kemp feel a strange sense of humiliation!

He did not think that he, who was tall and big and held a long sword, could not beat a young man holding a short iron rod and was not slightly injured. In fact, in this case, Charles could not beat him.

However, he has a helper.

So when the interrogator rushed into the gate and was about to swing his sword to kill the little white face in front of him, an iron hammer suddenly appeared on his right side, swinging it in the air, making a buzzing sound of breaking through the air, and touching Kamp who was rushing forward!

Bang —

The dizziness brought by the huge force instantly filled my mind. Kamp was bleeding from the hammered head, and he leaned back and fell to the ground without any struggle.

"How could there be someone else?"

Before he fainted, he looked at the guy who attacked him with difficulty, but what caught his eye was a pale skull with blood in his eyes, grinning at him silently.

"It turns out that it's not a human..." He felt relieved and then fell into boundless darkness.

【Your skeleton ambushed your medieval interrogator, the target is dead, you gain a little knowledge about the Andal language】

A reminder floated in his eyes. Shire, who was about to go forward to finish the fight, stopped because of this. He looked down at the enemy who thought he was just knocked out, and then looked at the innocent bones beside him with a "face" beside him. He didn't know what was going on now.

Should we complain that the target is too indifferent, or is this sudden ability really caught off guard?

However, regardless of whether he could react, a memory of a certain language had emerged silently from his mind, giving Charles, who had originally known nothing about this place, a little understanding.

Andal, a common language in Westeros, this damn place under your feet is called Westeros?

Andal?

This is a strange word, and in his memory on earth, he seems to have no impression of it.

“So where is this?”

"A game world?" Thinking of this shocking ability, this thought flashed through Shire's mind.

But what kind of game world is so real? Pain, death, blood, violence...

Besides, the memory in his mind is not a simplified symbol. Although it is not complete, a glimpse of the whole picture is a real, very complex human language.

This is a real world, nothing unexpected!

"So this is also a golden finger?" He curled his lips secretly. The young man then threw this question away. He looked at the interrogator who had abused him for several hours but now fell silently at his feet. He couldn't help but feel as if he was at a loss.

"I originally wanted to give you someone who treats someone like him... It's really a good deal for you."

Sighing, the young man bent down and picked up the sword in the interrogator's hand, walked to another really unconscious interrogator at the door, leaned on the sword as a stick, aimed it at his heart and slammed it hard.

"Although you didn't mess with me, I had to run away. It's a surprise, sorry."

[You pierce the heart of the executioner in the interrogation room, the target is dead, you gain a little weak life energy, and your injuries are relieved]

With this message, a cool feeling spread from his palm, wandering near the whip marks on his body, turning into a slight tingling and itching that began to nourish his body.

Shire looked down and saw that some of the scars on his upper body had begun to stretch and close, and the pain of the muscle strain on his left chest was relieved.

After a few seconds, the energy was exhausted and the injury on his body had healed at least half.

"Weak? Life energy?"

Another word that I don't understand, Charles shook his head, too lazy to think about it, pushed open the door and walked away from here.
Chapter completed!