Sword of Daybreaker

Chapter 392: "big army"

Leslie Collar, Tanzan Town, tall and thin, Viscount Andrew went to the wall and looked at the direction of the quayside at the lookout point of the city wall.

The newly built wharf tower stands on the banks of the Baishui River. The beautiful spires of the tower reflect the fantastic brilliance in the sunlight. Under the tower, thousands of sails pass by the Baishui River. Large and small ships are like busy ants. The entire river is a busy scene.

This busy and lively scene began last year.

A cool breeze blew, and the throat that became sensitive because of overdose of the potion suddenly became uncomfortable. Viscount Andrew Leslie couldn’t help but make a few severe coughs. The butler standing by the side immediately stepped forward and would warm up. The long coat is draped over his master.

The butler who has been recruited for less than a year is a little worried: "You should go back to rest as a Viscount."

“Blowing the cold wind helps to calm down,” Andrew said casually, his eyes retracted from the dock and swept through the new warehouse, the mill and the Xicheng District. He suddenly sighed, “It’s so fast.”

The housekeeper did not hear: "What?"

The newly recruited butler was reliable and his brains were still flexible, but after all, the time was short, and there was a lack of tacit understanding between himself and the Viscount Andrew. He sighed slightly in this respect, then shook his head and took some unpleasant memories out of his mind: Nothing. The messenger is still waiting in the castle?"

"Yes," the butler nodded. "The Count of Hosman waits for your reply."

The Viscount Andrew was silent for a moment and suddenly asked: "You said, who will win this war?"

"...Gavin? The Duke of Cecil is not good," the steward hesitated, whispering, knowing that his master and the Duke of Gaowen were very close, but loyalty required him to say at this time that he really The idea, "even if he is a legend, he has only a few thousand people in his hand, but the Count of Hosman has organized a tens of thousands of people..."

Viscount Andrew is undecided: "The tens of thousands of ‘big army’...”

With the mobilization ability of this era, coupled with the desolate and decadent situation of the Southland itself, it is indeed a great number to call on tens of thousands of troops. After all, the largest aristocrats here will also go to the count, and the number of private soldiers that can be maintained is There are limits.

After thinking for a few seconds, Viscount Andrew looked at his housekeeper: "It seems that you should respond to the call of Count Horsman as soon as possible, so as to stand on the side of the winner as soon as possible."

The butler bowed his head deeply: "My advice is of no importance. I am just a steward and I don't have enough ability to understand your career."

Andrew felt a bit boring, licking his mouth at the angle that the housekeeper couldn't see, and then looking at the slingers on the wall. The trebuchets were heading towards the White River. A century ago, the ancestors of the Lesley family relied on this. Facing the walls of the river to resist the robbers and fugitives attacked from the waterway, it was the time when the Ansu civil strife was just over, and the South was far less secure than it is today. Now that a hundred years have passed, these slingers on the wall have been changed several times because of decay and fragility, but they have not been used for a long time.

Another cold wind blew, the wind on the wall seemed to be particularly irritating to the lungs. The prince wrapped his wraps and coughed twice: "Let's go back, the messenger of Count Horsman has waited For a long time."

The butler immediately followed: "Yes."

"Add another copy of the 'newspaper' issued by Cecil, and the information about the "Aristocratic Reform Act" and the "Land Distribution Law" that they promoted. I will find some for me... I have to Learn about it."

A large army is gathering in the northern region.

In addition to the 20,000 troops assigned to the Earl of Peibo, the 50,000 as the main force has been in place for more than ten days of mobilization and gathering. The continuous camps and flags are on the plain in the southwest of the Carroll region. Spreading up, it’s like an unprecedented market.

There are dozens of army troops from all over the South, from the Baron to the Earl, all the glorious and orthodox bloods are brought together. Each of the nobles brought in fewer than a hundred soldiers, and many of them reached thousands, and each camped on their own. They first allocated large areas according to the level of their noble loyalty, and then distributed them in this area according to the order of the gathering points, eventually forming a staggered, incomparably chaotic, diverse station.

Dozens of different flags fluttered over this huge platter. The camps were like labyrinths of intricate roads, wearing various colors, various armor, holding various flags, carrying various The accent's commanders ran around in the labyrinth of the labyrinth, yelling at the orders that only their own people could understand (or don't understand), and the chaos that broke out because of the wrong command happened only soon. Will be rushed out by the knights to stop.

The equipment worn by the soldiers in the camp was as chaotic as their camp. It was even a lively exhibition. From the simplest half-length leather to the finest steel shovel, they all gathered in the same place. They used The methods used to identify one's identity are completely different. Some rely on a burqa with an emblem on the body, some with different colors on the head, some with shields on the shield, and others. There is no mark at all, and all the soldiers in the same village are used to remember each other's faces. This makes people wonder if the "army" will be wrong with the team on the day of the dismissal, which will lead to other runs. The fact that the territory is going up is actually possible, even if it did happen.

In the story of some bards, there is a story that depicts a story: a soldier named Tom, who may be a high mountainer or a Concord, who participated in a grand war but returned from a triumphant return. When he mistaken the face of the chief, he followed the army of others and went to a place far away from home. He married his wife and children in a foreign land, lived for eight years, and then again went wrong with the team in a new war. I returned to my hometown in a confused way... This story is widely spread in the South, and is even regarded by many knights as a symbol of "romantic battlefield life."

Karlov Holsman, wearing a golden red count, rides in his favorite red-handed battle, accompanied by several viscounts and barons, through this huge camp, in his nearest position, wearing Viscount Carroll in a black jacket.

The Earl of Karlov-Holsman had a lighthearted smile on his face, and this astounding camp in front of him and the army of up to 50,000 in the camp were built and gathered under his supreme prestige. This grand scene proves that the Horsman family is still brilliant in his hands, and this is the best award he can get as a member of the Hosman family.

"Look, the power of this scale, I really don't know what our ancient hero wants to resist," Count Horsman pointed to the front with a whip, and the tone couldn't help but rise. "To tell the truth, I almost regret it now. Maybe I don't need to call so many people. Every banner here can be distributed fairly with a trophy."

"This just proves your generosity, my adult," said a baron with a smile and respect and admiration. "You not only stand up to maintain Ansu's laws and traditions, but also generously take care of the land." Everyone."

Other people around him echoed, and during the conversation between the nobles, some noises suddenly came from nearby.

Earl of Hosman looked up and saw a group of soldiers wearing armor or half-body armor wrestling together beside the camp. It seemed that they were arguing over the qualifications for priority watering, but they did not wriggle for a long time. Then, a brightly-knighted knight came out, and all the people who had been fighting were knocked over to the ground.

"Look, the knight who is doing his duty is maintaining order. This is the duty and significance of the nobility." Hosman looked at this scene with satisfaction and could not help but sigh. "I can’t imagine if there is no such power to maintain order. Here, what will be chaotic... So I can’t even imagine what our ancient heroes wanted to do after depriving the knights of their privileges and destroying the aristocracy’s role in maintaining order.”

"What he wants to do is probably only known to the gods, but he must have experienced the consequences of doing so," said Viscount Carroll, shaking his head and sighing. "The insulted knights and mages smashed him." The 'Alchemy Factory' also blew up his warehouse. He destroyed the order, and now the order disappeared from his land. It can only be said to be self-sufficient."

It is a pity that Mr. Carroll’s face with real regrets and regrets, because since last winter, the sale of syrup to the Holy Spirit Plain and the high taxation from the Cecil merchants entering the city are his important source of income. Now, the alchemy factory led by Cecil has been destroyed and the supply of medicinal water has plummeted. How can this not be regrettable and regrettable?

What is more annoying to the Count of Carroll is that when he had to find the original alchemist on the territory and wanted to use the traditional alchemy pharmacy to temporarily alleviate the shortage, he could not find an alchemist...

If it weren't for this blow, the neutral Viscount of Carroll would not have joined the camp of Count Horsman so quickly, and took out the vast plains on the edge of his territory to the army.

"I don't know what happened to the Count of Peibo," a viscount in the team suddenly said. "The Andrew Leslie is very close to Cecil. This time he did not respond to your call. Maybe he will. Ignore the letter you wrote to him."

"I wrote a letter to let him stay in the castle. Don't stop the road of Count Pobo. This is the greatest courtesy and tolerance." Karlov Hosman snorted softly. "If he deliberately ignores it." It doesn't matter, the Earl of Peibo brought 20,000 people. It took less than two days to knock down the small town of Tanzan. Even if the sick man of Leslie’s family went to Cecil to rescue the soldiers, it was too late to extinguish the fire in his castle. ...so as long as his brain has not been completely destroyed by the potion, he will know what to do."

After hearing this clear analysis, the surrounding followers agreed.

Earl of Hosman looked up and looked at the messenger who was flying towards him in the distance.

He smiled: "We seem to have received a reply from the 'ancient hero.'"

When he saw the messenger handing him a fairly familiar paint tube, Count Horsman couldn’t help but pick an eyebrow, and when he saw the letter in the paint tube was his own handwritten parchment roll, he In addition to the confusion, there was more anger that was fooled.

The anger was when he spread the parchment completely and saw the word at the end of the letter when it reached its peak, but it turned into a big laugh.

Someone next to it is very puzzled: "My adult, is the letter rebutting?"

Earl of Hosman stopped laughing and snorted, and the parchment in his hand caught fire and quickly burned to ashes: "No, it is ‘war.'

(Mama, it’s painful to consume the manuscript.)

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