Chapter 146

One day, the top cover of the log cage was opened, but now it's not time to throw rice and water. Zhao Mai raised his head, with the help of the faint moonlight, to see the face of Ricas appeared in the top of his head. "Hey, Mike, I brought you something to eat."

Three cakes were thrown down. Before falling to the filthy ground, Zhao Mai caught them with his psychic powers. "Thank you, Ricas. Where's the half giant guarding here?"

"He didn't dare to talk much." Ricardo smiles. Among the slaves, hard fists can solve most of the problems. "But he can't let you out, and I don't think that's a good idea. There are still three days to tyre. On the way, you often meet Templars and patrols to capture runaway slaves. You don't have a chance

"Well, I see." Zhao Mai hesitated for a moment and said to Ricas, "if you have a way, can you bring the things in my backpack?"

"What's in the backpack? I'll try. " "Michael, you'd better not run away, because once you run away, the half giant will give us up," said Ricardo. Even if I kill him ahead of time, many people will still be executed, do you understand? "

"I understand your concern. It's going to tie in, isn't it? I always leave, but not now. And thank you for the cake. " Zhao Mai has made a plan. He doesn't want to escape at this time. Only when he gets to tyre first will he have a chance. So Zhao Mai waved to Ricardo to let him go, then picked up a piece of dry cake and chewed it slowly.

This kind of calm action is very admirable to the moors. He closed the lid, waved his fist at the one armed half giant, made a threat and slipped away. In the distance, a sandstorm is attacking the motorcade, so even taixi'an has to stop the whole motorcade to prepare for defense. Whatever you want to do, you have to take advantage of the sandstorm.

The first ones to sense the sandstorm were shell riding beetles. They stopped early and tried to get under the ground. Under the control of the reins, the beetles could not do this, so they could only curl up together and lie on the ground, unwilling to move. The desert war lizard then became nervous, opening and closing its nostrils, sniffing the sand in the wind. Using psychic powers to strengthen his senses, he finally determined that this sandstorm was about to happen.

When a sandstorm really strikes, the black sand connects heaven and earth, blocking the sky and the sea. The fierce wind constantly stirred the sand wall, and the fierce friction produced a red electric light. The High Templars were furious and told the slaves to speed up and stabilize the van and cargo as much as possible. "If you lose something, pray that you will be swallowed by the sandstorm together with it! Otherwise, death will never come, and pain will torment you forever! Pooh, Pooh, Pooh This is a mouthful of sand.

While everyone is busy, Ricas finds the car where Zhao Mai's things are stored. Valuable and interesting things, such as steel weapons and giant toothed spears, were taken away by Texian. The rest of the mess goes with other supplies. Looking at the opportunity, Ricas jumped into the car, picked up Zhao Mai's backpack and threw it under the car.

The wind came, and the roaring voice concealed his actions. There is sand crawling to their feet. If they don't move, it will soon cover their ankles. As sandstorms approach, it becomes more and more difficult to open your eyes. So, with his feet hooked on the strap of his backpack and ropes in his hands, he pretended to be binding things, and then walked slowly to Zhao Mai's prison car, which was not very conspicuous.

But after all, he was an important property of Tessen, so a Templar official found him and kept shouting, but Ricci turned a deaf ear to him. Only when the cold whip was on his shoulder did he have to "hear" the official's words: "what are you doing here? Go back to the car and tie yourself up. Don't be blown away by the wind."

He can't believe that the slave in the same car will hide the secret for him, so if he goes back now, Mike's backpack can't be taken back, he has to stay outside. In that case, there will be nothing after the sandstorm. After thinking about Bucher's words, "only Mike can really give you freedom", this sentence was so firm that the moors decided to believe it. So Ricas smiles at the official, pretends to agree and nods, indicating that he will follow him back.

The official lifted the towel up, trying to block the growing sand. As soon as he turned around, Ricardo suddenly put out his hand and covered his mouth. The power inherited from the dwarf's father burst out in an instant, and Ricardo pulled the man's head and hit the truck next to him. "Bang" a dull sound, was instantly dispersed by the wind, the official fell down.

An accidental fall can explain all this. After all, the sandstorm is getting bigger and bigger, and the visibility is getting lower and lower. Everyone has a slip under their feet. Ricardo holds his fingers against the official's throat and twists them to make sure his throat is broken. Even if the crash didn't kill him, it's enough.

Looking around, the two slaves turned their backs in this direction, but it can't be said that they didn't see the previous scene. Ricardo could not be perfect, so he had to take the necessary risk, hoping that the two slaves would not tell. He looked at the body on the ground again, adjusted his posture, and then went on. Taking advantage of the sandstorm, he climbed into the prison car, threw his backpack down and ran to his car.He eventually crawled back to the slave car, where nothing could be seen. Hurricane blowing, belt loose, wide clothes like sails, want to wrap him up and drag to the depths of the desert. Just then, a big hand grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him into the shelter of the van. "Tie the rope." "Only weight can fight sandstorms," Bucher said

The slaves were trembling, their eyes full of fear of sandstorms. If there is a truck problem, either the Templars will find slaves to risk their lives and go out to work, or they will kill people afterwards. They don't have the heart to watch Ricardo. His hands were shaking. After all, this was the first time he had killed a Templar, a man who was not a slave. After the initial tension passed, an indescribable excitement surged into my heart. No matter how many times I won the fight, I couldn't compare with this feeling.

Kill the opposite gladiator and become the last person in the arena. The audience will cheer for him. That kind of scene makes his blood flow. Now although no audience cheers for him, his inner sense of release is far more than the championship moment. It was a revolt, a revolt against the Templar officials. He looked down at the palm of his hand, remembered the feeling, and clenched his fist.

As the sandstorm continued, Zhao Mai finally got back his backpack. Open a look, the flowerpot has broken, floret with their own roots holding a small mass of soil, hiding in the corner of the backpack dying. Zhao Mai took it out, put it in the pocket of grain skin armour, and then poured the water he saved.

Floret slightly raised his head, issued a weak but joyful call. Zhao Mai was not in a hurry. He crushed the dry cakes, and then stuffed his pockets with the soil he picked from his backpack, the sand and other dirt on the ground.

"If only you were alive, the grain reserves would protect you. You know, it can actually transmit. " Zhao Mai uses the natural force to recuperate Xiaohua's body, seeing her condition getting better and better. Leaves from the curl back to stretch, but the color is still a little gray, not as moving before green.

There are only fragments of the original flowerpot left in the bag. There are two sharp pieces in the bag, which can be used as daggers when necessary. The rest, whether it was ropes, canvas or flint, was searched clean. Xiaohua is hidden in the soil, which may be the only possibility that she hasn't been captured.

More soil and more sand were carried by the storm and poured down from the top of the head. Ricks brought in the backpack, but forgot to close the top. The sand soon covered up the dirt on the ground, slowly exceeding the height of Zhao Mai. He is constantly shooting sand and improving his position.

It won't be long before he can get out of this prison, but he doesn't want to go out at this time. The fugitives are bound to be killed, but the captives have their chance. All the stories are concentrated in the city of tyre, where Zhao Mai can really extricate himself from the predicament. He holds the grain reserves, holding the flowers, nestling in the wind, he wants to give them a good talk about their plans.