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4: 002 Fleeing Soldiers and Bandits 4: 002 Fleeing Soldiers and Bandits The mont Anning carried the Duke of Orleans’ son on his back, a small glowing symbol appeared in his vision.

It looked like the quest objective guides seen in video gas.

At the sa ti, a mission prompt appeared on the left side of his vision: Open the sub-quest “Heir of the Tolleson family”: safely deliver the Duke’s son back to the Duke.

Why would the Duke of Orleans have the surna Tolleson?

Shouldn’t the Duke of Orleans be called Louis Philippe?

Anning knew the na of the Duke of Orleans because, during the restoration of the Bourbon Dynasty, the Duke’s son beca the King of France.

The Duke’s na being different from another tiline, Anning didn’t know what it ant.

He didn’t think too much and started running following the guide.

After a few steps, he felt sothing constantly hitting his thigh, which was quite uncomfortable.

Only then did he find a barren tree for cover, squat down, and check on the young duke.

It turned out to be a saber hanging from the young duke, with the end of its scabbard restlessly bumping against Anning’s thigh.

Anning didn’t hesitate to disarm the saber and held it in his hand.

His vision imdiately changed, with an icon of the saber appearing in the lower right corner of his vision, clearly indicating it as his equipped weapon.

—Indeed, as a transmigrator, I do have a system.

Anning imdiately planned to arm himself, turning into a powerful man able to switch weapons from number keys 0 to 9, ready to handle anything that might co up during his escape.

He continued his search under the cover of shadows, feeling around the tree, and only managed to find a rifle.

The winning side might have already sowhat cleared the battlefield, picking up the rifles and such from the ground.

The barrel of the rifle Anning found was filled with tightly packed and dried mud, shaking it had no effect as the mud was not loose at all.

This rifle had turned into a mace.

He guessed that most of the remaining weapons on the battlefield were in a similar state and given it was pitch black right now, it was hardly feasible to search.

Moreover, from the enemy camp in the distance, joyful choirs floated over, reminding Anning that he still was right under the enemy’s nose.

Alerting the enemy would leave him truly nowhere to escape.

Anning set down the rifle, which had beco a club, and groped back to the young lord’s position in the dark, halfway there his hand landed on sothing elastic.

At first, he thought he had touched a woman’s breast, but then realized it was a leather water pouch, still containing quite an amount of water.

—Right, running all this way without knowing where to find supplies, I need to take this water pouch.

And having lain as a corpse all day, I might get hungry and need so dry food.

Anning resud his search by feeling around.

Unfortunately, the line infantry would have dropped personal belongings and food rations before charging, lightening their load, so after a long search, besides the water pouch, Anning could not find anything edible.

He also didn’t know what ti it was during the night, nor how many hours until dawn.

Given the high latitude, and that it was midsumr, the morning might dawn earlier.

Run!

Carefully, Anning crept back to his original location, picked up the young lord of the Tolleson family, grabbed the lord’s saber, and rushed towards the guiding symbol visible in the dark night.

Not long after he began his escape, Anning heard the Prussians finish their singing, and then soone started a new tune.

It was a lancholic lyrical song about a crippled old soldier returning to his hotown only to find his wife dead and only a lone grave remaining.

The sad tune nearly made Anning feel like deserting, especially after the choir’s solo in high pitch, making the whole night seem gloomy.

Anning realized that the enemy wasn’t speaking the sa language as he was using now, but he couldn’t tell what language the enemy was speaking.

Normally, Anning was sowhat familiar with European languages, as he liked playing a ga called “War Thunder,” where one could set pilots from different countries to speak their respective languages, and Anning got used to hearing German, French, and other common European languages.

However, the enemy’s language didn’t resemble any language Anning had heard before.

Strangely enough, Anning could understand it.

This might very well be a transmigrator’s perk.

Moreover, the language Anning was using wasn’t Chinese either, but he naturally understood and spoke it without a second thought.

This must also be a transmigrator’s perk; otherwise, spending months learning the language of this world after transmigrating would be too torturous.

As Anning thought, he ran wildly, trying his best to get as far away from the enemy camp as possible.

The young lord had sothing continually poking at Anning’s back; it felt hard and rigid.

From its shape, it might be a dal.

It’s really tough carrying this young lord; perhaps dumping him and taking the dal back to the duke could count as completing part of the mission.

This young lord was also unlucky, dressed in a handso military uniform adorned with a large dal, entering the battlefield only to face a crushing defeat, his life and fortune now dependent on Anning, a stranger who had suddenly appeared.

While lost in his random thoughts, Anning kept running.

He had already passed three “path points,” but the next path point still appeared in the distance.

The system really was sothing, not even showing how far the path points were, just dangling it in front of Anning, keeping him running.

As Anning ran, he worried about encountering the enemy’s cavalry, given that he was running across a vast plain with scarcely any trees—during the dayti the cavalry could spot him from afar.

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