Chapter 137 Treasure

1913, Africa, Mount Kilimanjaro

A small town on the border of Tanzania.

A few sporadic lights from the fighting lit up the streets. The dry heat in the air is like boiling magma, under the cover of night. A row of war horses galloped across the mountain road, and the horseshoes stepped on the yellow ground and rolled up dust in the sky.

The ponytail dragged a group of young girls, whose hands were bound, and ran forward staggeringly under the pull of the rope.

On horseback, British soldiers in black tunics were carrying shotguns, holding torches, and their expressions were full of fanaticism. They were on their way back to the barracks.

Returning to the outskirts of the barracks, the soldiers jumped off their horses, and a group of soldiers dragged several black girls along the mountain. The woman whose hands were cut behind the back by the soldiers was disheveled and disheveled. They are all quite pretty, and some of them are not even adults yet.

These are some Sukuma women, and the perpetrators are some uneducated prostitutes. Their faces are full of anxious expressions, obviously this is not the first time they have done such a thing.

This land is under the high-handed British rule, and no one cares what happens to a group of black people.

At this time, the three war horses came to a stop from far to near, and three private soldiers in blue canvas military uniforms rode on the horses.

One looks like a teenager, with silver hair and fair skin.

A young man, tall, blond and blue-eyed.

The last young man has black hair, blue eyes, and a blade of grass in his mouth, looking a bit careless.

The blond young man on horseback stared at the chaos in front of him coldly, there was no fanaticism on his face, only indifference.

The black-haired man beside him noticed the fanaticism of his companion flowing under the calm appearance, he spat out the grass roots, and warned in a low voice:

"Don't make trouble, Grindelwald, we have more important things to do."

At this time, a ten-year-old girl was dragged past under the horse's hoof.

She screamed, half of her cheeks were swollen high, and there was an obvious slap mark on it. Her right eye had been beaten so hard that it could not be opened at all, and only a gap was swollen. Blood was everywhere.

The rough clothes were obviously torn by brute force, and the bare dark skin was covered with scratches and blood, which looked a bit harsh.

The man didn't speak, but the hand holding the rein was already clenched.

The black-haired youth still wanted to speak, but an arm stopped him.

It turned out that it was the silver-haired boy who was leading the horse and turned the horse's head, "Hurry up, Gellert, don't reveal your identity."

Gellert glanced at his teacher, nodded, got off his horse, and strode towards the group of soldiers.

Amidst the wails one after another, a bald soldier was riding on the girl, writhing wildly. This is a strong man, with tattoos all over his neck and extremely muscular development. He turned his head with a heavy breath, his eyes were red.

At this time, a palm wearing a black leather glove patted his shoulder.

The bald man who was about to commit violence turned his head and saw a tall blond young man wearing an ordinary private uniform, so he said viciously:

"What are you doing, German, I advise you not to mind your own business."

Before he finished speaking, he was answered directly with a heavy punch.

boom! !

Flesh intersecting.

He got a nosebleed, and fell on his back to the woman clutching his chest. The woman screamed and fled backwards.

The bald man clutching the bridge of his nose quickly got up and roared, "You want to die, little bastard?"

Gellert looked at him indifferently, took off his gloves, and stretched his neck. He punched him in the face again, this punch was so powerful that it sent him rolling and crashing into the crowd.

Now, all the soldiers who were beating the female captives looked over. Like a fuse that ignites explosives, the desire in the air turns into violence in the blink of an eye, and the atmosphere is violent.

A group of soldiers quickly surrounded them, some of them didn't even lift their pants, and the black turbidity was just like this dangling in the air.

The bald man got up and pointed at Gellert Grindelwald.

"kill him!"

"Kill the German!"

The crowd rushed up one after another, two soldiers grabbed Gellert's shoulders, and the bald man took the opportunity to punch Gellert's lower abdomen.

"Kill him! Eat his flesh!"

"Drink his blood!!"

In the frantic shouts, Gellert broke free from the restraints, and did not hesitate to retaliate. He kicked the bald man in the stomach.

Grabbing the arm on his shoulder, he directly smashed the two soldiers restraining him to the ground.

The fight in the square became intense in an instant.

On the other side, the black-haired young man on horseback watched the chaotic battle situation in the mud, and frowned at the silver-haired young man:

"You pamper him so much?"

Fatil calmly struck a match and lit a cigarette: "He is my student."

"what about me?"

Jacob asked with some dissatisfaction: "Can I not listen to my cousin?"

Fatil glanced at him, blew smoke into his face, and said nothing.

The chaotic battle situation quickly became clear. After taking a few punches, Gellert quickly relied on counterattacks to hit several Muggle soldiers. His ability to resist blows far surpassed that of ordinary soldiers.

The bald man saw his companions being knocked down by the blond youth one after another. He rushed aside, picked up a shotgun, and threw it at Gellert's face with the butt of the gun.

Gellert didn't use magic, he reacted very quickly and dodged the butt of the gun, and hit him hard on the chin with a backhand, an uppercut that hit him with stars in his eyes, and fell heavily to the ground.

Gellert didn't hide the disgust on his face, flew forward, stepped on the man's chest directly, and hit the big man's face with three consecutive heavy hammers, each punch was harder than the next.

Amidst the blood splatter, the nose of the burly man was smashed into the face forcefully. The loud cheers around him turned into terrified trumpets, but he still didn't stop.

Even the expressions of those young women who were rescued by him became terrified.

Fatil's eyes were fixed, he flicked off the cigarette, put his hands in his waist, and was about to get off his horse to stop him.

At this moment, there was a roar in the distance,

"enough!"

I saw a short man wearing a dark blue military uniform and black high-cut black leather boots walking quickly. He had several gold stripes on his shoulders. He was an army captain. He grabbed Gellert by the shoulder and slammed him pull away.

Blood dripped from Gellert's fist drop by drop, and the white joints could be seen in it. The bald man's face was bloody and bloody from his beating, with half of his teeth missing.

"What's the situation, fight privately!"

The captain shouted angrily.

The bald man covered his face, stumbled up from the ground, and howled hoarsely in pain, "Captain Hagrid, he did it first."

"Never seen a woman? Don't embarrass me here!"

The captain roared and kicked the bald man's ass.

"Everyone will be locked up for me! Everyone will be locked up for three days!"

A large number of soldiers with guns filed out from the other side. Their faces were serious, and they were obviously not this group of mobs who bullied women. This group of soldiers tied up all the fighters present. It also includes Gellert.

The bald man was pulled back by two soldiers, and he roared with blood all over his face: "German, you wait, wait until I come out, you will die!"

Gellert wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, calmly raised his middle finger.

This action caused an iron rod to strike his calf.

Captain Hagrid: "Be honest!"

He scolded Gellert angrily, but his eyes were fixed on the silver-haired boy on the horseback, without much fluctuation or warmth in his eyes.

Fatil looked at him too, sitting motionless on his horse. Let Gellert be escorted by two soldiers and advance into the barracks.

The black-haired youth whispered:

"It's Norbert Hagrid, the alchemist."

"You don't need to remind me, Jacob."

Fatil threw away his cigarette and turned his horse.

"I still know a little about my peers."

"Then what should we do? Will the plan change? If he finds out, our plan to find the dragon eggs may be exposed."

Fatil looked up, looked at the towering top of Mount Kilimanjaro, and thought for a while.

"There's no rush, we'll stick to the original plan. Let's rest for a few days. We'll wait until Gellert finds the clues."

The confinement room of the army is pitch black, and the air is still filled with a strong stench. It is estimated that some soldiers who were imprisoned in the past directly defecated in this kind of place.

Every day, except for a small light-transmitting slit opened during meal delivery time, you can't see your fingers at other times.

In such an environment, Gellert didn't even frown. He put his hands flat on his knees, and the darkness and loneliness kept him awake. Thinking of his school years in Durmstrang, he even felt that the place was a little more intimate.

Although it was only for a moment that he wanted to leave, he didn't do it. He still had his own tasks to complete.

I don't know how long it took, maybe one day, maybe several days, the door of the confinement room suddenly opened.

A man wearing a brown military uniform and high-top leather boots appeared at the door of the confinement room. He was chewing some kind of candy and was spinning a military stick in his hand.

Gellert knew this man, Norbert Hagrid. On the surface, he is a British captain stationed in Tanganyika, but in fact he is a well-known British alchemist who has a lot of research on biology.

"Come out, Zoro."

Noble said lightly.

Gellert stood up and walked to the door. Norbert pressed his shoulders, stretched his palms to his waist, pulled out Gellert's wand, and pushed him out of the door of the confinement room.

Outside the door, the sun is shining brightly, and there are a few small and white wild sheep on the yellow plain. In the distance, there is a group of zebras, which look white against the green bushes.

Among these scenery, barbed wire fences are discordantly entwined. In the middle of the barbed wire fences are located one after another hemispherical stone bunkers, some of which are large and small.

Among them, Gellert saw the bald man he had fought against a few days ago squatting on the height of the bunker, his face was bandaged, smoking a cigarette and looking at him suspiciously.

Some smoking soldiers around him stood up and pointed the middle finger to Gellert rudely:

"Hey, Big White Rabbit, Kunkato, I send my greetings to you!"

"Dude, clean your mouth!"

"I'll stuff XX until you puke."

Hagrid didn't intend to stop these people, so he led Gellert all the way to the mountain road, asking while walking,

"You are very popular here, how long have you been in the army?"

"Two years."

Gellert followed the captain without turning his eyes.

"Two years."

The captain chuckled.

"Good for you."

The two passed through the Muggle barracks one after the other, and came to the halfway up the mountain at an altitude of about 500 meters. Here, the noisy voices in the Muggle barracks had been faintly visible and almost disappeared. A dozen birds circle the sky, leaving their fast-moving shadows on the ground

Gellert's expression was dignified, and there was a sense of prying eyes and a mental force field from all directions telling him that there was more than one wizard here.

In 1913, the cloud of war hung over the entire wizarding world. Various factions and ethnic groups are fighting each other. All forces are engaged in a fierce arms race, and as the world's most secretive and cutting-edge wizards, they are also unavoidable.

When the two of them walked along the mountain road and came near a huge stone arch, three figures in linen robes and holding hooked wands appeared. Their bodies are painted with colorful oil paint, and their eyes are expressionless. These are three African priests.

"What are you doing, don't break into the forbidden area."

One of the African priests spoke in icy English.

Noble took out a piece of sheepskin and handed it over with a smile.

"I am the diplomatic ambassador of the British Department of Magic and International Affairs, and we would like to visit King Solomon's tomb."

The black wizard with braids took the sheepskin and glanced at it: "What about him?"

"He is my subordinate."

Noble said very politely.

The three wizards stepped aside, "Ten minutes, leave in ten minutes, only visit the cemetery."

Norbert nodded, patted Gellert on the shoulder, and the two walked into the stone arch one after the other.

As soon as they entered, the arch waved like water ripples, and the two of them were transported to a clearing on the hillside of Kilimanjaro. There was only a solitary stone pile, and there were several incomprehensible words carved on the stone pile. The text looks rather bleak.

"What did you bring me here for?"

Gellert asked Norber, "This doesn't look like a captain's office."

"I want to cooperate."

Noble interrupted him directly.

Gellert's heart skipped a beat, but he didn't show it.

"What?"

"I know what you are looking for when you come to Kilimanjaro, and I want to cooperate."

"I don't even know what you're talking about."

Gellert snorted quietly.

"You think I'm a fool?"

Norbert Hagrid pulled out a piece of parchment with a sneer: "What a coincidence, I "picked up" this thing from the camp of the three of you a few days ago."

Seeing the sheepskin, Gellert's pupils shrank, and his eyes immediately became dangerous. He took a step forward, but his chin was immediately pressed against a wand.

"Relax, Private."

Noble laughed, with a teasing look in his eyes.

"As long as I say a word, the group of niggers below will come up immediately."

He shook off the sheepskin, revealing the densely packed African indigenous characters on it.

"It just so happens that I'm good at learning Swahili. Do you want me to translate it?"

Gellert's face darkened, and he stood still.

"Dragonkind, greatest of creatures, meanest of creatures, favorites of nature, most efficient weapons of murder, machines of war. Only the most unusual, most spiritually powerful wizards can wield them.

I send the last partner of my life back to the highest mountain in Africa, waiting to be awakened one day and bring the world into the ideal country-Agareth Vasak. "

Noble: "Agareth Vasago, do you know who that is?"

Gellert: "A dragon trainer."

"The greatest dragon trainer in history, one of Solomon's 72 demon gods, when his dragon training skills reached its peak, there were more than three hundred fire dragons serving him. In 1373, he alone could resist a national army.

Noble put away the parchment and pointed to the top of his head: "The highest mountain in Africa, huh? Do you still have to play dumb? Grindelwald. Don't tell me that you came all the way to Kilimanjaro for tourism."

"Then what?"

Gellert sighed, "What do you want?"

"Cooperate, I can take you brothers to the top of Mount Kilimanjaro, without me, you can't get in here at all. As a reward, I need a quarter of the total harvest."

Gellert: "What if I say no?"

"I'll tell the group of black ghosts who guarded the grave just now about your purpose. If you want me to say, there are still some tricks in witchcraft in Africa."