Frilian: Starting by inheriting the title of the Southern Hero

Chapter 50 Powerful Brick Flies

On the way, Cromwell walked at the front, his steps steady.

Laofen stared at the metal rod, thicker than her thigh, for a long time before finally taking a few quick steps closer to the old man and asking:

"Grandpa, what's your specialty in magic?"

The old man kept walking, touched the stubble on his chin, and frowned.

"The magic you're good at... let me think."

Lynn followed behind, took a sip from the water pouch in his hand, and didn't urge him.

This old man doesn't seem very reliable, so I'll take this opportunity to test him out.

The three of them walked like that for about two minutes.

Laofen blinked, still waiting for what was to come.

Cromwell suddenly stopped and turned to look at Raofen:

"Little girl, what did you ask me just now?"

Lynn almost spat out the mouthful of water he had just drunk.

Laopen was also taken aback, then looked somewhat amused and exasperated: "I asked you what kind of magic you are good at."

"Oh, right, magic."

Cromwell nodded in sudden realization, then fell into deep thought again. "What was it again...?"

Lynn hung the water pouch back on his waist and rolled his eyes.

This memory is exceptionally bad; it forgets things the moment it turns its head.

Just then, three dark figures suddenly darted out of the woods beside the road.

Roar!

It was a group of three enormous demonic bears whose roars shook the leaves to the ground.

They surrounded the three men in a triangular formation, clearly having been lying in wait for a long time. Now, they suddenly attacked, their sharp claws aimed straight for the three men's throats.

"Be careful!"

Laofen reacted extremely quickly, instantly holding her staff horizontally in front of her chest.

But a gray-white figure was faster than her.

That was Cromwell.

The old man, who had been deep in thought, suddenly stepped forward and instantly stood in front of Lynn and Laoffen.

"Get out of here!"

A loud, forceful shout made people's eardrums ache.

The next second, the old man swung the huge metal spiked club in his hand in a wide arc, bringing with it a sharp, whistling sound.

boom!

The first demonic bear didn't even have time to scream before its head exploded like a watermelon.

With a single, decisive strike, the old man flicked his wrist, and the heavy spiked club swept horizontally.

Boom!

The other two demonic bears were struck in the waist, their massive bodies flying backward like rag dolls, crashing through three or four large trees before coming to a stop, turning into a pile of mud when they landed.

The battle ended in two seconds.

Lynn looked at the mosaic-like mess on the ground, then glanced at Cromwell, who was slamming his spiked club into the ground, and his eyes twitched twice.

What kind of magician is this?

"So strong."

Laofen looked on in surprise.

After the battle ended, Cromwell pulled a dirty handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the bloodstains splattered on his face.

Then, my gaze was drawn to something in the roadside bushes.

The old man casually tossed aside the blood-stained spiked club, then scurried over, squatted down, and picked up a dusty, gray stone.

Cromwell used the handkerchief he had just used to wipe the blood to carefully clean the stone until a faint quartz pattern was visible.

"Hey, that's beautiful."

The old man grinned and carefully tucked the stone into his inner pocket.

Lynn walked over and glanced at the bulging pocket.

It contained about a dozen similar stones, all of which are common pebbles found everywhere by the roadside.

"Grandpa, why are you collecting these useless stones?"

Lynn couldn't hold back any longer.

Cromwell patted his pocket, a satisfied smile on his face. "When you get old, you have to have some hobbies, right?"

After saying that, he picked up the still-dripping metal spiked club again, pointed ahead, and said, "Let's go, don't delay our journey."

Lynn gave a wry smile and followed.

After what just happened, the surrounding wild beasts seemed to have sensed the presence of this menacing figure, and the rest of the journey was unusually quiet.

After crossing a hill, the view suddenly opened up.

"Sir, what brings you to Flo Village?"

Lynn quickened his pace and walked alongside Cromwell.

Cromwell's smile faded slightly as he gazed at the faint outline of the village visible at the foot of the mountain, his gaze softening.

"I'm going to see my daughter. She runs a tavern in Flo Village. I'm always traveling and rarely visit her. This time, I've made a big decision that I want to talk to her about."

"She'll be so happy to see you."

Laofen chimed in from the side.

"I hope so."

Cromwell smiled and reached into his pocket to touch the stones.

The village of Flo was much larger than I had imagined.

It's more like a small town than a village.

The streets were lined with shops, and caravans came and went in an endless stream; you could even see a number of mercenaries carrying weapons.

"Come with me."

Cromwell was clearly familiar with the area, leading the two through the bustling crowd to a three-story wooden building in the center of the village.

The sign reads "Oak Tavern" in large characters.

"This is it."

Cromwell placed his spiked club at the doorway, pushed it open, and went inside.

Lynn and Laoffen followed closely behind.

The tavern was bustling with noise and filled with the smell of alcohol.

Behind the counter, a middle-aged woman wearing an apron was wiping wine glasses.

She looked to be in her forties and had a full figure.

Hearing the door open, the woman looked up and immediately stopped.

"Grandpa? What brings you here?"

The woman put down her wine glass, quickly walked around from behind the counter, and looked somewhat surprised.

Cromwell's wrinkles instantly smoothed out when he saw the woman. "Lorraine, I've come to see you."

The woman called Lorraine approached Cromwell and brushed the dust off his shoulders.

"Didn't we agree to retire at a monastery in the south? Why are you out here again?"

"I can't stay here, I can't stay here."

Cromwell waved his hand, his expression suddenly turning serious. "I'm here today because I have important business to attend to."

"What's the big deal?"

Lorraine seemed to be used to his behavior and casually asked.

"I've decided to go and defeat the Demon King."

Cromwell lowered his voice, his expression mysterious, "I heard the Demon King has been causing trouble in the north lately, and I have to go deal with this menace. I'm just passing through here, so I thought I'd let you know so you won't worry."

Lynn, standing behind, almost choked on his own saliva.

The Demon King? Which Demon King? The one who was reduced to ashes by the hero Simmel eighty years ago?

Lorraine's expression froze for a moment, then she gave a helpless, bitter smile and said, "Grandpa, the Demon King is dead."

"nonsense!"

Cromwell's eyes widened. "I heard just a few days ago that the Demon King's army is gathering at the border. Don't stop me, I'm going this time!"

Lorraine sighed, wanting to persuade her further, when the curtain to the kitchen was lifted.

A burly middle-aged man came out, carrying a plate of roasted meat.

He is Lorraine's husband, Vic.

Vic was also taken aback when he saw Cromwell, then placed the barbecue on the nearest table and strode over.

"The old man is here."

Vic smiled and said, "You must be tired from your journey. Go upstairs and rest. Your room has been reserved for you."

Cromwell looked at Vic. "You're right. It's important to conserve our energy before defeating the Demon King."

Then he turned and waved to Lynn and Laoffen, "Let's go upstairs and rest."

"I'll pay for the accommodation first."

Lynn reached for her purse as she spoke.

"Since the two guests are friends of the old man, the accommodation fee will be waived."

Lorraine stopped him, a welcoming smile on her face.

"Thank you very much."

Lynn and Laoffen exchanged a glance, then stopped insisting and followed.

……

Shortly after Lynn and the others went upstairs, the smile on Lorraine's face faded, leaving only a hint of sadness.

"The old man's memory is getting worse and worse."

Vic delivered the barbecue to the guests' table and turned back to say, "If I had a good memory, how could I have forgotten my real daughter?"