Orc Tyrant

When the door opened, the cold wind swept across the war room like a sickle. The general's chief of staff, Major Marlowe, limped in. He pulled down his scarf to reveal a circle with a short brown mustache underneath. His face was flushed with the freezing cold.

"stand up!"

He yelled, and at the same time moved the metal prosthetic leg to give himself to the door. He was once overcast by the rebels in a counter-insurgency campaign.

Under the premise of losing a leg, he still commanded his troops to defeat the besieging insurgents, and the name of "prosthetic leg" Marlowe spread throughout the imperial military.

The assembled people pushed aside the chairs from the long conference table and stood up, and with a click, all the people stood up and saluted.

General Prokhov walked in quickly, his upper body tightly wrapped in a white fur cloak and hidden.

He stomped the snow off his boots, and shook his hat for the same purpose.

"Everyone, rest!"

After a simple but sincere response, he strode straight to the fireplace in the room.

"While I'm warm, you guys can talk for yourself first."

A small group of officers and command personnel filed into the house behind him, all wishing to stay as far away from the harsh cold wind as possible.

Then came the senior adviser of the Three Witches, Varel and his deputy Politov, who rushed into the room like ghosts wrapped in shrouds, and sealed the door behind them firmly.

The newly arrived command officers took off their hats and coats and hung them on wall hooks, and then sat down.

Soon General Prokhov became the only person in the house still wearing a coat and cap.

"I better take them off."

He whispered, then rubbed his hands and left the warm fireplace.

"I guess there is no special card payment here, am I? I really want to have a drink."

He took off his coat laboriously, revealing the spotless bright red general uniform decorated in gold and white.

In fact, this body looks too luxurious for this occasion, but it has excellent texture and warmth. This alone is enough to make Prokhov put aside frugality, just to add another layer of preciousness between the cold and the cold. Protection.

Yushkin got up from the seat at the table, walked to a cupboard in the corner, and began to prepare a hot cup of special cards for the general.

"If you can, Colonel."

Prokhov blinked, and said humorously:

"Please do it, and add a few more drops to warm my old man."

The people chuckled slightly. Several of them took out the allotted small military kettles from their pockets and handed them to Yushkin, but the latter had already unscrewed his own.

General Prokhov saw him graciously pouring the high-strength liquor from it into the glass.

Good boy, that dose must be a prank.

The war room was full of buzzing comments from officers from various defense zones. People began to discuss the abnormalities that appeared in the northern sky a few days ago. After these few words appeared, the atmosphere in the room began to become heavy.

It will be worse when I finish talking.

General Prokhov thought to himself, and took the cup from Yushikin.

"Thank you, Colonel, nothing compares to a hot drink in the evening, uh...especially with a few drops of liquid flame in it."

Yushkin grinned.

"Yes, sir."

When the hot drink warmed the stomach, Prokhov exhaled comfortably in a voice that was low enough to be masked by the conversation.

"How about the new consultant, Colonel."

Yushikin shrugged and said in a voice that was only a little louder than a whisper:

"It's too early to draw conclusions, at least that man looks like a fearless fighter, sir."

"There seems to be a problem between you?"

"Let me say that we have almost nothing in common. The new consultant seems to be a very proud person, a well-bred and well-educated person. I am sure that the reputation of the Three Witches Society is not in vain, but that is for us. It’s almost useless for the regiment, you know the way I deal with arrogant people, sir."

"Perhaps you can warn him, Colonel, but you must not underestimate Ered. Senior adviser Varrell thinks that his appointment to the first group is something hot and troublesome. This person is a variable."

"Why do you say that, sir?"

"Variel wanted another person, but the transfer order was revised at the last minute."

"If this is true, sir..."

"Oh, I bet that our new consultant has just made himself a powerful enemy recently."

After clearing his throat, he put a hand on the shoulder of the middle-aged officer and said:

"It's time to start, let everyone face me, Colonel."

"Immediately, sir!"

Yushkin nodded, then he turned to the crowded table and shouted:

"Attention everyone! General Prokhov is now speaking!"

Yushkin returned to his seat and sat down, while General Prokhov stood alone, scanning his patient audience.

There is no time to delay.

He warned himself like this, took a deep breath, and began to recount the bad news he had just received...

When the general delivered the latest news, Yushkin was glad he was sitting, because he could hardly believe what he heard.

Prokhov's words stunned everyone.

What a **** bad news, it can only be described like that.

The capital of the empire, the eternal city that has never been occupied, the queen of ten thousand cities, Cusconar, was betrayed by the arcane masters and was destroyed by an attack from the sky.

The emperor they were loyal to, also passed away in this attack.

And if the news itself is scary enough, then the consequences will be even worse.

The crown prince was crowned emperor by the Pope of the Church of West Kaimon two days ago as King Honouriu I. He was also the first Emperor of Kainia to be crowned by a Western Pope after the Millennium Split.

This is undoubtedly a betrayal in the eyes of many Eastern Kenyas.

On the same day, the two princesses of the first emperor visited Jena, the holy city of Kaimon Church. The eldest princess Anna was crowned and proclaimed the emperor and became the first queen of the dynasty. At the same time, the universal patriarch announced the expulsion of Honorius I from the church.

Contending with each other, the Pope of the Church of West Kaimon accused Anna as the usurper, and Honourius I called on all his people loyal to the empire to crusade against rebellion.

Once the largest empire of mankind, it was officially divided into two. The western provinces that were most influenced by the Church of West Kaimeng fell to Honourius I, while the eastern provinces with the greatest influence of the Church of East Kaimon declared allegiance to the queen. A few areas such as Aksum that the empire conquered relatively late have not yet made a clear statement.

Now, this choice has become a problem for everyone and Prokhov.

Because the Aksum region has been managed as a military border province for a long time, the military's voice in this place is far greater than that of the local governor. If Prokhov wants to, he can immediately control all cities and railways in the province.

The eldest son who is loyal to the emperor, a legal successor, or the eldest daughter who is loyal to the emperor, a successor who is not very legal but more in line with the tradition of the empire.

No one took a stand, everyone was bewildered by the sudden news.

"We have no choice."

Finally, it was Yushkin, who rarely spoke in the political field, who spoke first.

"The Queen controls Tyre. All our supplies come from there. Greenskins is coming again. We can't let the homes behind us be destroyed because of the disputes from the upper class. We are here, for the sake of hope, the **** politics. Throw the trick to the big guys!"

"Kaemon is on! The empire is forever!"

The commander of the Third Infantry Regiment stood up first and shouted loudly.

"Kaemon is on! The empire is forever!"

The officers stood up one after another, abandoned all prejudices, and mourned the dead ancient empire with passionate voices.

Seeing this, Prokhov secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Those prepared bullets were finally useless.

The next chapter starts with continuous high energy! The vicious dog came out of the cage, the blood traced thousands of miles