The Boss King actually disguised himself as a novice village chief?!
Chapter 472 - 394: The Glory of the Fugitive Soldier_3

Chapter 472: Chapter 394: The Glory of the Fugitive Soldier_3

The man paused, then raised his head with a smile, "More than you could imagine, my brother! I am the General’s most relied upon warrior. Several times, facing perilous situations, I managed to accomplish great things, but I can’t say too much in detail. In short, he thinks I am the most trustworthy soldier we can talk about anything!"

The man with one blind eye showed a smile, "Haha, I knew it. I can’t wait to hear more about the news from the frontlines, as well as those glorious stories of yours."

"You come from the frontlines?" Om, who had been eavesdropping for a while, took the initiative to join in, "I’ve had dealings with the Undead merchant caravans from the frontlines, and heard that the war is anything but easy."

The man who claimed to be from the frontlines opened his mouth, appearing to find it difficult to answer this question.

But the man with one blind eye said, "Then you should definitely ask my friend here. He served as a scout on the frontlines, helping Duke General to scout the way and avoid a lot of trouble."

Om was equally excited. He had previously gotten along very well with the soldiers from Newmoon Town but was unable to go to the frontlines to fight due to his limited talents. Meeting a veteran from the frontlines was definitely a good thing.

The two chatted animatedly, greatly aided by beer.

The man narrated his glorious service history with a smile until Om asked, "Speaking of which, I’ve always heard that there’s a guy named Fuller among the frontlines scouts."

The one-eyed man glanced instinctively at his "veteran" friend, with a smug look, "He must have made quite a name for himself."

The "veteran’s" expression changed subtly. He wanted to leave, but many people had gathered around by now, mostly those strangers who had come from the north.

"Hahaha, yes, the only deserter from the Expedition Army!" Om, drunk, grabbed the "veteran" by the arm, preventing him from standing up to leave, "I heard the General was furious because he almost ruined the most critical part of the Expedition Army. Luckily those Undead, you know, the Undead withstood everything. I’d wager if it weren’t for that scumbag Fuller, we might have already won the expedition by now!"

"Hahaha," laughter and curses directed at Fuller filled the air.

Someone even stood up to add details to the story as if they had been there, while the "veteran" and his one-eyed friend’s expressions underwent dramatic changes.

The two men left the tavern, the one-eyed friend glaring at Fuller, "I’m going to report you, so you’d better run, before dawn tomorrow."

The friend turned and walked away, believing Fuller should have died on the battlefield, as that had always been their pact.

First become famous, then die.

But when it came to holding a crucial position, Fuller had chosen another path of disgraceful survival and turned into a joke among many people.

The moon rose slowly, its fragmented light casting a pall over the residential area temporarily demarcated at Snake Catcher Fortress.

Here, earth and sand piled high; during the day, people would mix them to make special concrete mud bricks. Houses and walls built with this mud brick were extremely sturdy, like the mountains, able to withstand large amounts of evil force.

"Damn you, Lind!" Fuller stood under the moonlight, his fingernails already digging into his palms.

He had become the butt of a huge joke, the only deserter from the Expedition Army, from the frontlines to Star Dragon City, Snake Catcher Fortress, Mountain Demon Castle, Raven City, Goliath, Black Island, and so on.

Including those hamlets, Emerald Hill, Black Hoof Village, Newmoon Town...

He knew he should run fast because he was well aware of his friend’s character. Unlike himself, who only touted glory verbally, his friend was truly willing to die for it and would even kill Fuller over it.

But he couldn’t be sure when his friend would report him. What if it wasn’t before dawn, but right now?

He had to leave ample time for escape.

Rather than cursing Lind, Fuller thought he should secure more time for his flight, and he would need some traveling funds too.

Under the moonlight, the cast shadows of the trees twisted like a tangled web, and the dark voice called out to Fuller not once from within, a "thief" and an experienced scout, just lacking a bit of courage.

He followed his friend and indeed found that the latter hadn’t returned to his dwelling but was heading towards the soldier’s barracks.

The night wind blew, lifting the dust off the ground and obscuring all the low-lying shadows like waves.

The one-eyed man seemed to sense something and quickened his pace, trying to speak up to draw the attention of the distant patrolling soldiers.

Both were well-acquainted with each other, just like Fuller could guess his friend would use delaying tactics to stall him and then report him, his friend also knew this crisis came from Fuller.

Right behind, right beside!

With only one eye and in the darkness, his reaction was compromised.

Fuller was a Great Knight, but his friend was not. He couldn’t detect someone attempting to assassinate him.

The friend opened his mouth to speak, to call out, but the howling wind and dust of the fortress plugged it again.

In the unfinished residential area, gusts of wind and cold whipped up the dust and cold, swallowing all sounds.

The friend was pondering how to handle the situation, but no matter what commotion he made now, it was hard to draw the attention of the soldiers a distance away, where only a faint glimmer of firelight flickered.