Chapter 564

The glimpse of the giant dragon disappeared in the sky. Except for a few people, almost no one knew that a legendary race was watching this land. The world was running as always, the giant sun rising and setting day by day, the weather day by day It's getting warmer, and summer is approaching - it seems that in the blink of an eye, spring is over, and the hurry is overwhelming.

The fire that had been rekindled in the eastern part of the Holy Spirit Plain was raging for a while, and then unknowingly stopped.

The giant wood crossing, on the fortress and the plain where the two armies confront each other, the large and small fortifications are intertwined, cutting the entire area into pieces, and there are blockades everywhere. The soldiers and knightly officers roamed between these criss-crossing cordons, cautiously patrolling the lands that temporarily belonged to them, and wary of the flags that came close to them - but it was undeniably ephemeral and fragile A truce has been established.

Rumors abound. In this age of information that can hardly be effectively controlled, as long as a news reaches people's ears and bold people move from region to region, it will spread among the population and spread in the future. In the process, countless bizarre versions have been differentiated.

Some people say that the Kingdom's army suffered a major defeat, that the Silver Castle can no longer withstand the pressure, that the nobles of the capital are making peace with the Eastern Realm, some people are circulating the completely opposite version, and some people say that the Typhon Empire is on the verge of moving on the border, and the pressure of foreign enemies has caused it. The two armies stopped fighting, and some people even linked this strange situation to the plague that has occurred frequently in the Jumu Road Pass recently...

And of all the versions of the rumors, the most reliable source came from a horse breeder who worked for the Eastern Frontier Corps—the horse breeder swore that he had seen elven eagles flying from the northwest, and elven messengers entered Ed. Prince Meng's fortress, the order for a temporary armistice, was handed down not long after that.

On the east side of the giant wooden crossing, in the newly built fortress, a tall sentry tower stands on the city wall. Edmund Moen, who is dressed in black armor and has a beard, stands at the top of the sentry tower, overlooking the scattered people in the plain area. Flags and wooden camps large and small, the wind from the southwest whistled over the tower, rolling the flag over Prince Morn, hunting.

There was a sound of iron boots stepping on the ground from behind, and Duke Silas Loren in uniform came to the tower. The Duke of the Eastern Region said in a deep voice, "The elves have left, Your Highness."

"If they come seven days later, the giant wood crossing will be ours," Edmund Moen said softly, "the undisciplined soldiers of the coalition are not our opponents at all, even if they put on new equipment, they will only It's just a swarm to rush up to die."

The Duke of Eastern Territory gave the prince a deep look: "But we must stop the war - this is a matter of great justice."

"yes,

It is a matter of righteousness - we are fighting for Anzu's future, not simply for the position in the Silver Fort," Edmund said lightly, "Archduke Laurent, how is the rear order? "

"Everything is fine, Your Highness, don't worry," Silas Lauren nodded. "Only a letter of concern from Belk - the Cecil people are mining the minerals of the White Sand Hills with amazing techniques and speed. The descriptions in it are exaggerated, and I don't even know if I should believe those claims."

Edmund was a little curious: "What did he say?"

"...The Cecils may blow up the 'Little Crowmouth Mountain' this year, and next year they plan to blow up the second one."

"...Berke doesn't seem to be a person who likes to exaggerate."

"He really doesn't like exaggeration, Your Highness."

"Then I'd rather believe him," Edmund said. "If the Cecilians were capable of blasting the walls of a rock fortress with some sort of magical weapon, there's no reason why they shouldn't use a similar explosion to mine mines."

Having said this, he couldn't help sighing: "Although we have successfully built a new factory in the East, the real technical foundation of the Cecil people is obviously not in those factories... We have fallen behind in this regard."

"We are already negotiating with immigration officials in the southern border, hoping to send some literate apprentices to their 'schools' to study, and the southern border does not seem to be completely banned in this regard."

Edmund nodded lightly: "Please pay more attention to this matter-talents are really important."

After a while, Duke Laurent left the tower, leaving only Edmund Morn standing on the platform at the top of the tower, standing quietly in the wind.

However, in the next second, a voice entered his ear: "You are really a ruler of the country, Your Royal Highness."

Edmund Moen seemed to have been waiting for this voice for a long time. He turned his head calmly, looked at the brazier not far behind him, watched a figure gradually condense in the brazier, and watched the figure walk to the ground, turning into an illusion. For the woman who was wearing a priest's robe and whose lower body was as eerie and terrifying as the roots of a plant, he nodded coldly: "You're here, Bertiera."

"You don't deny the title of ruler of the country?" Bertila moved her rustling feet with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, "It's so mature... Last year, you were still in a hurry in front of this title. deny."

"I don't need to argue with you on this kind of issue, my relationship with you hasn't gotten to this level," Edmund Moen's voice became colder, "if you're here to trouble those elves. , I can only say that you are a step late - they are gone, back to Saint-Sunil."

"I'm not interested in those elves," Bertila chuckled, "it's you, you originally intended to announce your coronation after capturing the giant wood crossing, but now you're spoiled by the news brought by the elves... no Are you sorry?"

Edmund silently raised the sheathed one-handed sword in his hand, the tip of the sword pointed at Bertila's throat, in the air between the sword and the throat, black cracks spread like life: "If you If you die here, will anyone feel sorry for you?"

"Put this toy away, it's better to play with it on the battlefield than to threaten a woman here," Bertila lightly brushed aside the one-handed sword in front of her, "I'm here just to remind you, prince Your Highness, time is running out - if you want to leave a place for the people of Ansu in the new era, you'd better make a decision as soon as possible."

Edmund Moen stared into Bertila's eyes: "I have no interest in your so-called 'great evolution', nor do you care about your doomsday theory, even if the so-called new era really exists, the Ansu people will If you have your own way of living, you don't need to worry about it."

Bertila looked at Edmund quietly for a while, then shook his head and walked slowly back to the flaming brazier: "It's an impressive speech, but it doesn't matter, we still have a little time, you still There is time...to make choices."

...

In many cases, the so-called "choice" is just an illusion, an established fact that is carefully disguised, placed in front of the person who makes the choice, so that the person who chooses will have the illusion that the situation is under their control, or let the person who has no power to do anything cover it up. Take your own embarrassment.

In the Golden Oak Hall, Anzu's most powerful nobles are still discussing enthusiastically. These famous families express their opinions on the situation of the kingdom, and use various theories, allusions and arguments to prove their accurate judgment of the situation. Every word she said was for the bright future of this kingdom, but Victoria, who was sitting at the head of the long table, knew very well that these discussions and words were only paving the way for a conclusion that could be reached without discussion at all.

"...The East Territory has accepted the conditions for a temporary truce. This is just the most basic reason. They are not qualified to represent Ansu..."

"The royal family is orthodox in Silver Fort, and those who can represent Ansu are also in Silver Fort!"

"But we have to take into account the tension in the plains of the Holy Spirit, and we have to face a group of kleptocrats who are about to lose their minds..."

"Think long-term, think long-term..."

The earl, the marquis, the prime minister of the kingdom, and the important ministers of military aircraft, they spoke one after another, telling the facts that anyone with a discerning eye could see at a glance, Victoria looked at this scene with indifference, she looked to the left, and saw that the Prince of Wales was the same as herself With a look of indifference, Duke Baldwin yawned heavily. She looked to the right again, and saw several elves envoys sitting on special seats not far away looking at her with puzzled and bored expressions.

——Due to the special situation, the Golden Oak Hall has unprecedentedly allowed foreigners to enter the venue to observe the noble meeting, but now it seems that friends from the Silver Empire really do not understand some of the "rules" of human society.

The elf named Sonia Frostleaf blinked in Victoria's direction, moved her lips a few times, and Victoria heard the other person's voice ringing in her ear: "Why do they keep repeating this question for so long? "

Victoria reluctantly stirred up her magic power and sent her voice over: "Because some words have to be said with great responsibility."

"We understand this, but they have been discussing it for too long," Sonia Frostleaf's voice was still confused, "We elves can live for thousands of years, but your meetings are still too wasteful in my opinion. It's time... do these speakers have different lifespans from ordinary humans?"

Victoria: "..."

This question is a bit beyond her knowledge.

She shook her head, determined to end the time-wasting discussions, and tapped the table: "Gentlemen and ladies—it's time for us to come to a conclusion."

The buzzing discussion stopped immediately, and a pair of eyes fell on Victoria, Wales, and Baldwin almost invariably.

The Duchess of the North sighed secretly: In the end, no one dared to say the only choice.

Anyway, the Wilder family has been privately called "usurper" in the past century. Isn't the image of himself, the Duke of the North, in everyone's heart an authoritarian one?

"Royal orthodoxy doesn't have to be debated, but the fact is that we have to put this issue aside for now - the rebels in the East can't represent Ansu, and we...not at the moment. The only person who can come forward now is not at Silver Castle, he is in South."

A meticulous middle-aged aristocrat with a slightly fat body and well-groomed hair spoke at the right time, with a solemn expression on his face: "Duchess, what you said makes sense, but the southern border has not expressed any indication of Ansu's ownership of the kingship. If you have any attitude, and now hand over the heavy responsibility of representing Ansu to Duke Cecil, then..."

Victoria glanced at the other party: "Count Baring, you can nominate the person you think is suitable."

"...I mean, it's really fitting that this important task is handed over to Duke Cecil!"

"Very well, this matter is settled."

In the special seats beside the long table, the elves envoys watched the entire long and boring meeting with confusion, until Victoria Wilder suddenly showed the results of the meeting, and the envoys breathed a sigh of relief.

Sonia Frostleaf couldn't help shaking her head, and whispered to her companions, "In comparison, the efficiency of the High Mountain Kingdom is much higher than theirs."

"It's always been like this in human meetings."

"They can live for a hundred years in total and dare to be like this, they are really amazing..."