Chapter 080

Roger walked some way west along the banks of the Sierra river.

The number of warthogs in the ground decreases instead of increases.

Some river basins have overflowed, forming new tributaries or ponds.

The scene was really shocking.

Roger looked up at the upper reaches of the Sierra River and couldn't imagine what had happened.

The Sierra river is very quiet, with a feeling that there are no living creatures within a few miles.

Qi gazing could not get information, and Roger did not dare to divine without authorization.

After a brief stay, you can only go back.

On his way back, he saw a tall man on the bank.

The man, like him, was carefully observing the dead pigs on the river.

Roger walked over and took the initiative to say hello:

"Good morning."

"Good morning." The man's accent is a little stiff and his accent is particularly formal. It seems that he is not a native of the manor.

His clothes are not like ordinary adventurers, but they are very different from businessmen and farmers.

It's more like the affairs officer in dawn town.

"Isn't it shocking?"

The man turned and smiled.

He has a sculptural and well-defined face, a straight nose, full frontal bones, and a pair of beautiful dark green eyes hidden under the deep set eyes.

His lips are always tightly pursed, with a firm meaning.

Even the sparse hair with a precarious hairline was combed in order, revealing some unspeakable stubbornness.

Just this one eye.

Roger vaguely guessed the identity of the man.

"Sure." Roger looked at the dead pig on the river and gently shook his head:

"This kind of thing is completely beyond my understanding."

"Reasonable." The man looked at Roger calmly, as if he were reciting the lines of the stage play, with a straight look:

"I once heard a story."

"There is an open dark world under the bone burial place; in the southwest corner of the dark world, there is a moss plain, on which there are such underground warthogs everywhere."

"Every winter, a large number of underground warthogs gather in groups, and they run all the way, facing the south."

"The warthogs are overwhelming, and even the master of the dark world: the cunning and powerful double headed black dragon dare not face the violent impact of hundreds of thousands of warthogs."

"At that time, all hunters would avoid the route of Warthog herds. They swept everything on the endless underground plain, all the way to the southernmost part of the dark world."

"The southernmost part of the dark world is an underground river called bonderi. White fog often rises on the underground river, which is strange and unpredictable. Warthogs will rush to bonderi river one after another - but you know, warthogs under the ground can't swim, so the warthogs that rush down first will only drown."

"In view of the physiological structure of warthogs, after drowning, they will quickly float up and become a small piece of duckweed that can settle on the river; then the latter can step on the body of their companions and continue to move forward until they become a part of duckweed."

"If it goes back and forth, one day, on a flat River, warthogs will build a floating bridge with their bones. Their companions will have the opportunity to reach the south of the river bank. However, things are not so simple."

"There is also a strange white fog on the bondery river. The white fog will kill all intruders, without exception."

"We still don't know how many lucky people have successfully stepped on the bones of their companions to the other side of the warthog migration every year, no matter how much they pay."

"All we know is that the unsuccessful warthogs are here."

Speaking of which.

The man fell into a long silence, as if thinking, as if recalling.

Roger was attracted by this strange and slightly shocking story.

The two stood there stiffly.

It's like two wretches who have been hit by human immobilization.

After a while.

Not far away came rustling footsteps.

"Alan Dominic."

"Your Excellency must be master Roger."

The man recovered and generously extended his hand to Roger.

For Roger, this etiquette is too long lost.

He subconsciously grabbed Alan's hands - they were thick and warm, giving people a strong sense of security.

"Just call me Roger."

He said.

Alan zhengse said, "for a martial artist who saved the manor from turtle trouble," master "is a very appropriate title."

"And on the way back to the manor, I also heard the legend of" white feather flying man. "

Facing Alan's praise, Roger suddenly felt blushing.

Maybe he is too serious.

Roger told himself so.

"Just call me Roger."

He chose to be a reply reader.

Alan frowned tightly, and it took a long time to unfold:

"All right, Roger. I'd like to make an exception for you."

Roger breathed a sigh of relief.

Other people in the manor called him master Roger with that kind of local accent, but he felt a kind of simple intimacy; But in brother Alan's solemn tone, he always had the illusion that the MLM master was hung up and repeatedly mocked the whipped corpse.

"Lord Alan, why do warthogs migrate to the south?"

Roger brought the topic back to the point:

"And if the bonderi river is the upper reaches of the Sierra River, then the so-called" demon theory "will be defeated?"

Alan straightened his waist, and his tone was a little softer:

"At least in my opinion, the saying that there are demons at the bottom of the river is closer to nonsense."

"There is no trace of demons in the observation log of the Lord's residence for thirteen years."

"As for the behavioral motivation of warthogs, I'm afraid only warthogs themselves know."

"However, we do have some immature guesses. The specific research results need further investigation. I hope Hayward can bring me the latest hydrological data when I go back."

Roger nodded knowingly and stopped asking questions.

Alan actually revealed a lot of information to him when he first met.

True or false, for the time being.

These are not accessible to ordinary adventurers.

Although he is very interested in the secrets of the Sierra River, he also knows the discretion of interpersonal communication.

The two chatted for a while, nothing more than the local customs, weather and food of the manor.

Alan is really a very smart person.

He has great demeanor and eloquence. In a few words, he can win the favor of others——

Different from the usual diction of liars, Alan's words can always get to the heart of the topic and point to the root of the problem. People can't help but respect it.

For Roger, Alan's speculative habits and have many similarities, which are not like the aborigines of Mistra at all.

This made him a little curious about the origin of each other.

After a while.

Roger led Alan and Freya, who stopped not far away to watch, around the farm.

Although Senluo farm is dilapidated, the natural scenery is still good.

Freya was well prepared and brought her own ready meals. The three simply had a picnic near the forest in the West.

Then he went back to Roger's house.

The two talked all afternoon.

At dusk, Alan had no choice but to leave under Freya's repeated eye hints.

In the evening.

Another bodyguard came to visit, saying that he had sent Lord Alan a gift of thanks.

Roger opened it and posted a note for "white feather Feixia", which made Roger feel embarrassed.

At the bottom is a martial arts script.

"Exquisite martial arts script (sliding shovel)"

See this name.

Roger's face became strange.

"Is this for me to slide up and deliver a wave?"

However, he habitually turned on the lookout Qi technique.

"Sliding shovel: the unique skill of Pingsha school and the founder of Heihu"

"Description: the martial arts sliding shovel, which contains 196 variations, has strong armor breaking, disabling and opportunity finding effects. It is a unique skill refined by master Heihu's collection of life-long skills and a real-world killer."

"Requirement: understanding 15/ mastering at least 3 Qi orifices"