"Dear Mom, see the letter as it is.

    Alvarcherchen sat in the warmth of the house, quill in hand, writing the first line on the yellowed letterhead.

    It was the end of the 1654th year of the Western Calendar, and this continent known as Eastern Europe was as cold as ever, and the harsh winter had wrapped this village called Zamoshye in a sheepskin coat as thick as an elbow. The trees in the forest outside the village were all bent by the celluloid-like thick and heavy snow, and from time to time, some branches were unable to withstand the pressure and broke off, creating a snowstorm for the winter weather.

    In the daytime, the snow is brilliantly illuminated by the sun; and at night, the luminous earth seems to have countless sparks flickering on the frozen and stiffened surface of the snow.

    Such a view is undoubtedly beautiful and amazing to Tetsu, who is seeing it for the first time from Spain. Because in Tetsu's hometown, the seasons are like spring all year round.

    Though from a knightly family and the eldest son in the family, Alvarcherchen did not inherit the family's coat of arms or estates, but instead traveled by ship to Eastern Europe with his uncle, a veteran who also did not inherit the family's estates.

    In those days, Spanish knights, like Swiss halberdiers, were extremely popular and favorite mercenaries. In the warring continent of Europe, there is no lack of mercenaries with a skill to make war, and thus be rewarded by the Lord's appreciation of the story of the rise of the world. And one of the most famous, there is no better than the "mercenary king" known as Wallenstein.

    They stayed in Riga, Sweden, for several months after landing there, along with about two dozen of their fellow countrymen who came on the same ship. But no one hired them during this time.

    This came at a time when Sweden was in a rare period of peace after the Thirty Years' War. King Carl of Sweden and King Jankazimierz of Poland were cousins and came from the same Carl family. This relationship led to the signing of a peace agreement between the two countries. This agreement was strictly adhered to, even when the Polish nobles were being stirred up by the Cossack uprising in the Ukraine.

    This secondly, Sweden, as a Protestant country, naturally held a distrust of mercenaries from Catholic countries, and they were more than happy to hire mercenaries from the German states, which were also Protestant.

    Seeing that the money he had brought from Spain was about to be spent, Alvarcherchen's uncle made a decision to head for Poland to find work there.

    It so happened that a caravan from Riga, which was preparing to leave for Smolensk, was looking for an escort, and Tcherchen's uncle Pidro took Tcherchen on his journey, along with eleven of his fellow countrymen who were willing to join him in making a foray to Smolensk.

    The journey was very peaceful, and there were no bandits or anything like that. This makes the caravan up and down as well as mercenaries are very happy. For the people on the run, there is nothing more than all the way safe to make people happy; and for the mercenaries, although we live is the days of blood on the head of the knife, but can get the money smoothly, who do not want to take the life for not.

    But there was only one person who was frustrated. That was little Chetchen. Spain is the country of knights, but also the country of chivalric novels. Chechen grew up like to read knight novels, although not as Cervantes penned Don Quixote like obsessed, but also often fantasize that he is the hero in the novels of chivalry, the courage to fight the evil dragon.

    From Riga, little Chechen had followed closely behind Pedro, his right hand gripping the hilt of the sword hanging from his waist, and had walked at the head of the procession, his beautiful brown eyes constantly watching the surrounding movements, expecting an ungrateful robber to jump out of some grove or stream valley.

    For Chechen's little heart, his uncle Pedro has always seen in the eyes. Although in the eyes of over forty years old Pedro, Chechen's these small actions are childish and ridiculous, but who's teenager is not like this over it Pedro also do not pick apart, just more careful to Chechen protected behind.

    After a journey of more than twenty days, the caravan stopped at Zamoshye. It was less than a day's journey from Smolensk.

    Originally, the group only planned to stay here for one night and then set off, but the sudden snow disrupted the plan. Overnight, the roads disappeared completely, leaving a blanket of white. Under the arrangement of the village headman, Mikhail, the village set aside four or five houses for the caravan. Chechen, his uncle Pedro and three mercenaries lived in a wooden house.

    Due to the heavy snow and cold weather, Chechen could only move indoors. When he was bored, he thought of writing a letter to his mother in Spain. In addition to reporting that he was safe, he also wanted to express the beautiful snowy scenery in words, so that his mother could empathize with it as well. After all, in Spain, the people never see so much snow in their lives.

    After writing the first sentence, Tcherchen became resigned. His snow-white teeth gnawed on the end of the quill, but he couldn't get a word out. This can not be blamed on Chechen uneducated do not read well, in fact, in his hometown, Chechen at the age of eight into the church school. In the six years there, he not only learned Latin, but also learned math, medicine, geography, astronomy, and even the priest of the church school was full of praise for him. I can't write about it, but I can only blame it on the fact that the snow is so beautiful and the Spanish language is so poor in words to describe snowy scenes.

    After biting off the end of the quill pen for the millionth time, Tcherchen finally made up his mind, and he dipped the nib in preparation for the stroke.

    But at that moment, the door of the cabin was pushed open. The snow and wind that had been raging outside the house rushed in with a headlong rush. Some of the "heroic and tenacious" even attacked the desk, wetting the letter paper and Tetsu's cheeks.

    "Uncle Pedro, close the door." Chechen rubbed the school crumbs from his face and grumbled at the door.

    And entering the door was none other than Chechen's uncle, the temporary leader of this mercenary, Pedro.

    Pedro was short and stout, he had a fat round face with a large hawkish nose, and only a few scraggly hairs remained on the edges of his head due to his shaved head. This made him look extremely comical. But once people took their eyes off his face and turned to his waist, most of them couldn't stop laughing.

    Because there, there hung a hand-and-a-half sword. This kind of sword was extremely popular a few hundred years ago, but even among knights, those who could skillfully use it were considered rare, not to mention in the current era where firearms were prevalent. In the eyes of those who knew the trade, those who dared to travel with this kind of sword were decided to be masters of the Way of the Sword.

    Hearing Chechen's complaint, Pedro grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. He slammed the door shut with force and bolted the bolt. Only then did he remove the leather gloves from his hands and threw them heavily onto the bed. And nearly hit one of his companions.

    "Hey, guys. You're in luck this trip to Smolensk with the wise and brave Knight Pedro of Allevar." Those were Pedro's opening words as he entered.

    The few mercenaries lying on the bed seemed to have gotten used to Pedro's "big talk", and just looked up at Pedro before lying back down. Only Chechen was excited.

    "Why why why Uncle Pedro."

    "Because," Pedro was about to speak when he saw that Cherchen was the only one listening, so he retracted the words that came to his lips. He walked over to the large birch-lined bed and picked up his gloves and jerked the lying mercenaries one by one until they sat up.

    "There will be a war soon." Pedro opened the door, adding to the news he had heard from the Mayor of Mikhail's village.