—My uncle would always take it back for me if I wanted to.
This sentence came out of the king's mouth, and it was only a matter of arrogance. But Blaise's general couldn't really take it as a casual caprice.
People in this era often fought wars, from the state to the nobility.
For dignity, for profit, for faith... But Blasey's expedition was for another reason. They have a feud with the Legrand Empire, and the war between the two nations has been going on for more than a hundred years—historians simply refer to it as the "Hundred Years' War." In the Hundred Years' War, the Legrand Empire has the upper hand for a while, and the Blacy Kingdom has the upper hand for a while.
Now, it belongs to the dominant period of Blasey Kingdom, and the expedition force comes from this.
No one knew better than the general the position of Blasey's Expeditionary Force.
dilemma.
After truly occupying the Moon River Fortress, the Blaises will find that this fortress is very embarrassing to them.
The terrain of the Yuehe Fortress is steep, which is also doomed to have no fields within the fortress. The main purpose of Yuehe Fortress is military defense, and it does not produce its own food. For a long time, the Moon River Fortress has relied on the supply of Tru City and the central plain to deliver food. If the kingdom of Blasey wants to control it, then food must be brought in from the sea...
That's a lot of money.
They can attack, but cannot hold for long.
The best way is to use it in exchange for higher benefits from the Legrand Empire.
But the wanton arrogance of the young king of Legrand became their biggest obstacle at this time.
- Can they really continue to consume it here
cannot.
The general knew that.
"So be it."
The king got up, took the draft draft from his officials, flipped through it, and carelessly crossed out several articles of interest related to the royal family. Then he signed his name and threw the draft in front of the general.
"Yes, or you'll stand by the pile of broken rocks. This negotiation is long enough to sing Cordona's play three times."
Cordona's play, a traditional opera of the last century, uses a lot of empty and useless comparisons, and the plot is protracted. It is often used by people nowadays to ridicule one thing for wasting too much time on side-by-side details.
Legrand's negotiating envoys looked bleak, desperately thinking that they were over, and this negotiation was about to be screwed up by the king.
But they couldn't stop the king... After all, the only thing that could make the treaty take effect in the end was the king's autograph.
There was silence in the tent.
The king stood up and asked the chief of the house to pack up, and he was ready to go back to the palace. At his orders, the rest of the officials could only follow the king out of the tent, one by one, pale and ghostly.
After a short while, the originally noisy tent became silent, and on the other side of the long negotiating table, only the blank-faced Blasey negotiator and the livid-faced general were left.
Blaise's staff, you look at me, I look at you, and no one can speak for a while.
This, wasn't it just fine? Why did everyone leave in a blink of an eye
At this moment, they could understand the pain in the hearts of Legrand's colleagues over the years.
With such an unreasonable tyrant on the stand... No one can laugh.
"General?"
someone asked quietly.
The expedition general waved his hand and let the others go out first.
There was only the general left in the negotiating tent, and he couldn't help but glared at the draft without regard to etiquette and cursed: "That idiot Grace, why didn't you send this bastard to hell earlier?"
After a long time, he grabbed the quill and angrily signed his name on the draft.
"Damn villain."
He almost cut through the paper.
…
The salutes were all sorted out, and the officials almost dragged their feet in despair as the tents were put away one by one.
Their king didn't care about it.
Holding a whip of mixed gold and silver threads, he stroked his steed, said to be the king's father, the descendant of William III's warhorses. The king had not paid much attention to it before, but this time he suddenly began to like it.
I'm afraid even the devil can't understand the joy and anger of this young monarch.
The things were put into the oak wagon, and the housekeeper reluctantly lifted the curtains for the king.
"—Please stay!"
Someone ran over panting.
Adjutant to General Blaisey's expedition.
He turned pale with fright when he saw that the king was really leaving in just a few moments.
The king stopped his steps to get into the car, he turned his head slightly, and his ice blue eyes looked at the visitor coldly.
The adjutant did not dare to linger, and hurriedly took out the contract that signed the names of both parties.
The king didn't extend his hand, he swept his eyes and let the head of the house take over at will.
The head of the house blushed with excitement, took the contract from the adjutant, and carefully spread it to the end, and sure enough, he saw the name of General Blaise on it - although the sharp handwriting clearly revealed the master's anger.
"His Majesty!"
The house chief's voice trembled with excitement.
The depression was swept away, and joy hung over the negotiating group.
"Let's go, I've had enough of this shit."
The king was so ruthless that he had no intention of celebrating this rare victory with them. Instead, he urged everyone to get up and go back to his palace.
However, the contract was signed smoothly, and by mistake, only a small price was paid. Before this, the waywardness of the king was not as distressing as it used to be. Everyone happily boarded the carriage, except for Lieutenant Blasey, who was crying and grieving.
May the Lord bless him not to suffer in vain.
…
"General, what impression do you have of that young king?"
After a long hesitation, the astrologer asked.
"A complete asshole, villain."
The general answered without hesitation.
"Let him go to hell with his arrogance."
"General, I think we'd better not let the king of Legrand leave here alive."
The swirl of blood and black appeared before the astrologer again, he suggested.
"You don't need to pay too much attention to him." The general seemed amused. "My dear astrologer, that's an arrogant and arrogant kid... He will pay the price soon."
What more do the astrologers want to say.
"Okay, my astrologer, go and pack your luggage, it's time for us to return."
The general was in no mood to listen any longer.
The astrologer had to say goodbye.
Back in his tent, the astrologer spread out a piece of letter paper, pondered for a moment, and wrote the letter with a quill dipped in special star ink. The letter was written to his tutor, in which he described in detail what he saw when he observed King Legrand, and asked the tutor what it meant.
"… The general doesn't take fate's announcement to heart. But teacher, I feel uneasy, whether it's that sun or those blood-colored whirlpools... Please guide me."
He stopped to examine his letter.
"I'm sorry, sir."
The candles in the tent suddenly flickered, and the astrologer noticed something. He reached into his pocket and tried to pull out the silver dagger inside. But he failed.
A thick black mist rose silently from the ground, filling the narrow space in a blink of an eye. Darkness engulfs here. The astrologer stiffened, turning his head almost as hard as he could. The black fog seat turned to him, and he saw a person slowly walking out of the darkness.
This dark breath that leads straight to hell... The other party is...
He lost consciousness.
"It seems that my dear majesty is in a little trouble."
The black mist was flowing on the ground, and the devil in an exquisite black dress walked to the astrologer's table.
He gently pulled out the letter and held it up in front of him.
"Darkness and scarlet... so beautiful, my majesty."
he said with a sigh.
A black flame ignited on his pale and cold fingertips, and the letter turned to ashes in an instant, falling into the black mist.
The devil lowered his hand and put his fingertips on the astrologer's forehead.
"It's not a good virtue to peep at someone's most beloved treasure, Mr. Astrologer."
The memory was pulled from the astrologer's forehead like a pale white liquid, and the devil put it into a beautiful crystal ball and stuck it on his forehead.
He saw the king in the midday sun.
The crimson coat on the king's body was blooming with roses, and his icy blue eyes were calm and unintelligible. And with the help of the astrologer's eyes, he finally saw something that was closest to the king's thought... that announced the fate of the future. Countless scarlet swirls on the dark curtain.
In fact, only those scarlet swirls are the real destiny of the king.
The black curtain announced that he had signed a contract with the devil, and that his soul had belonged to hell.
How beautiful.
"My Majesty."
The devil murmured.
The memory ends at the back of the king's departure. The devil carefully put away the crystal ball, reached out and transformed into a scarlet rose. He inserted the rose flower to his chest, and walked briskly past the unlucky ghost who would forget everything when he woke up.
He didn't mind completely solving a hidden danger for the king.
But getting those from the Holy Inquisition across the sea would be a hassle, wouldn't it
It was dusk now.
Blood and darkness cover the earth, and it is the time when all dark creatures come and go.
The devil was hidden in the darkness, he stood up straight, the tail of the black dress was blown by the wind, and the edge faded out in a fog-like trajectory. He took off the roses on his chest and gently moved in the direction of the king's departure: "Good day, my dear majesty."
He kissed Rose.