Warhammer: I, Bartor Farmer

Chapter 11 Irreconcilable Contradiction

It was not an irreconcilable contradiction, and Mr. Erstabe needed a job at Bordereau more than money.

Surely a zombie face like his wouldn't fit into any normal city in Bretonnia, because he tried!And Musilon?He doesn't want to die yet.

In contrast, money is useless to him, because it is difficult for him to spend in his current situation. Ordinary farmers will tell him to leave when they see him. If Roel is not by his side, he can't even go to the tavern to order food.

That was the case with the Mousillon freak, and Roel caught that, he just needed a chance to fit in with Boldero.

Eustabe thought for a long time. "One-third, you can only take one-third, and you need to cover for me, otherwise if this matter is known, you will be an accomplice."

Roel never suffers. "We, a rope, grasshopper, understand?"

"Half the wages, half the robbed goods, everyone who sees it will have a share."

Eustabe sighed and picked up the backpack on the ground. "The wages are paid at the end of the month. The man brought two gold crowns, 2 catties of charcoal, and 4 pieces of bread. The clothes are already worn on me, although I wear his coat as a sympathetic shirt."

Roel said. "You invited me for five pence yesterday. Come, give me a gold crown and charcoal. You can handle the rest yourself. What is your salary?"

Eustabe spoke at once. "A golden crown."

Roel didn't bother to ask any more, and six decrees were not a lot. "Okay, now you owe me, Undead."

Both Eustabe and Roel, who were far from the crowd, quickly came to an agreement, and now swore an oath to Taal, the god of hermits and hunters, that if they violated it they would no longer be followers of Taal.

This is very serious, the mortal gods are definitely a powerful force in the Warhammer world, and the loss of faith in the gods can also make a person lost.

But Roel doesn't care, he believes in everything!

When he goes to the empire that day, he will immediately be full of Sigma, or become a nobleman, and now he will lick Lilith's toes.

This oath is not very binding on Roel, but the income of five decrees a month is very binding on him. The two looked at each other, and then hooked up like good friends.

"Brave man, work hard today!"

"If a zombie comes near me, I'll shoot you first."

Eustabe replied. "Of course! You are working behind me, maybe your gun will go off?"

"How about I go buy an iron plate and carry it on my back tomorrow?"

That's right, good friend...

In theory, this day's work went smoothly, even Erstabe took the initiative to give Roel his shoulder as a gun mount, and Roel was pleased to show him how to perform remote craniotomy on zombies.

This evening, Eustabe saw the power of firearms for the first time, and he was moved, but he couldn't use them.

This seemingly understated shooting is difficult to learn, there is only one chance, and it requires complicated reloading. Eustabe is a big man, not a big idiot, and he instantly understood why this man is so difficult to deal with.

Just using a gun in this hand is much better than ordinary farmers!

And Roel also specially used firearms. After all, bullets and gunpowder are not cheap, and a pitchfork can be used to deal with zombies. He deliberately gave the "undead" in front of him a blow!

But soon Erstabe reversed the matter, and he naturally demonstrated how to use his fingers to get the zombie's rotting eyeball out.

He was born in Musilon. According to legend, his parents have died, and he was raised by resurrected zombies. He is a natural killer, similar to a ghoul.

Not only was he not afraid of the monsters that came out of Musilon, but he also had fun with them, which made Roel, a ruthless man, feel his heart twitch.

When midnight approached, corpses lay all over the ground. There were no ghouls today, but there were a lot of zombies. The skeletons needed to be controlled, so Roel probably couldn't see them.

At this moment they were about to get off work, but Eustabe squatted next to a zombie in doubt, scratching its body.

Roel cursed. "You don't spare the dead, do you have a good ring? Anyone who sees it has a share!"

Eustabe swore back. "Qianqianqian, did you fall to your death from the golden crown in your previous life?"

Roel rubbed the tip of his nose. "Whoever puts salt in the wine, what have you found?"

Eustal raised the zombie's arm, and a small purple seal was imprinted on his armpit, but it had begun to dissipate after the zombie died for a while, and this happened to every zombie.

Did you voluntarily cast magic because the zombies were defeated?

Eustabe analyzed. "The wind of death lingers around it. I'm particularly sensitive to this. I don't know why. It's just natural."

"And there are too many zombies crossing the river today. We killed 35 of them tonight."

"A necromancer has taken a fancy to this place, and these zombies are his scouts!"

Roel frowned, and then Eustabe stood up immediately and said. "Go and inform the lords, or the Duke, that necromancers are no joke!"

(End of this chapter)