The Legend of Fatality

Angelica glanced at the room in disgust. She felt that it was not the surrounding environment that was unbearable, but the people inside, or at least most people. The furnishings in the room were much simpler than she thought of a decadent southern nobleman. There are no delicate carvings and gargoyle statues on the walls of many buildings in the city, only weapons and flags.

The Duke sat straight on the bright wooden chair, showing a mighty heroic posture. He is a handsome and slender man in his middle age. His black hair is turning gray. From his face, the drooping long beard, a favorite of the southern nobles, was actually pretty.

They make him look like a legendary brutal rider. There was a disturbing sense of tension in his eyes, but Angelica could not see anything to confirm the rumor that he was crazy.

Some people claim that the Duke of Winter-Kozinski likes to see evil admirers everywhere, which shows that he inherited the insanity of his father. For Angelica, his support for witch hunters and the continued persecution of mutants seemed to be the only sensible precautions against this great enemy. Maybe this is true. Perhaps the decadent empire customs even took root in Kislev's palace. She sneered at her thoughts. She is not much better herself. Was n’t she a lover with a decadent Southerner? Did n’t she follow the advice of the wizard Max Schreiber? Just a few months ago, she was willing to bet that Schreiber himself was an admirer of chaos. No, she is not qualified to criticize these people. She understood this mentally. But this does not stop her from doing so.

There is a large stove next to the Duke's throne, emitting the heat from the cold of autumn. A long-bearded waiter stood on the left side of the Duke's throne holding a heavy stick. Just ahead of the throne, stood two tall warriors in armored Duke's Guards, each holding a halberd, and they both stood taller than anyone in the room.

Ten steps away from the throne, there was a railing surrounded by ropes, with the petitioner standing behind. They are a diverse group of people, with wealthy businessmen, lower-ranking nobles, and people with rags and uncertain occupations. According to Angelica, they may be wizards, priests, or professional lobbyists.

She looked around the others in the room, wondering how Duke Winter could bear it. The actions of these people are enough to drive the most sensible person crazy. In front of the room is a group of people from the business association who protested the Duke's latest price-limiting order.

It seems that even the existence of a large group of brutal enemies outside the gate cannot prevent a person from pursuing the right to the best price for his goods. Even the fact that exercising this right may cause most people to go hungry or initiate a food riot does not seem to attract their attention.

Angelica recognized the fat man on the watchtower among the merchants. Now he seems to have overcome his fears. He is more worried that he is not allowed to sell his food at a price ten times higher than a month ago. These are the merchants, Angelica thought with the samurai noble's usual contempt for the rising middle class. They have no honor. Even if the city is in a moment of life and death, they only think of their own interests.

Duke Winter seemed to agree with her. "In my opinion," he said in a harsh voice, "At this moment, keeping our people on the battlefield, satisfying our people, and supporting their duke is much more important than the profits of the guild."

"But, Your Highness—" the fat businessman said.

"And," the Duke continued, as if the businessman had never said anything, "It seems to me that the people most likely to have different ideas are admirers of evil gods and followers of dark forces."

Angelica nodded in satisfaction, the merchants would shut up now. They could see the less implicit threat in the Duke's words as clearly as she did.

The Duke continued to speak in a slightly reasonable voice. "After all, Osrik, if the city has fallen, what is the profit? Gold is only useful to living people. If these monsters break into our noble city, I believe they will not let anyone, no matter what they are How rich. Of course, except for some admirers of evil gods. "

The meaning of the Duke is now clear to the merchants. Most people are sneaking around, hoping to leave the chamber gracefully. The Duke said that gold is only useful to people who are alive, and they have not forgotten this sentence. It applies not only to those hanged traitors, but also to those killed by the army of evil gods.

"I believe there are no believers of evil spirits here, brothers," Villem Kosinski said. He looked up at his brother, blinked, then turned around and smiled friendly to the merchants.

Angelica saw steel gloves and velvet gloves from both of them. In a way, this is sad. In terms of temperament, Duke Winter is more suitable as a sailor, while his brother is more suitable as a mediator.

If the positions of these two people are reversed, the prestige of the ruling House of Representatives may be better; then ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ The Duke can stand aside, his hands are clean, and it is more popular.

However, this is not possible. Birth makes them such people as they are now, and neither brother seems to like their role, if their role is like this. Maybe the brothers are just doing something that matches their character.

On the other hand, she also heard rumors about Willum. He was a bit like a scholar, involved in alchemy, and reportedly read books from afar from the Marnus Empire. Of course, this would also make him a suspected member of the old nobles of Kaslov.

The businessmen nodded in agreement. "Do you have anything else to talk about?" Duke Winter asked coldly. The merchants shook their heads, and the Duke allowed them to leave. More petitioners approached the throne.

These are the little nobles in the city. Through their costumes, they hope that the Duke will resolve some small disputes between them. Angelica quickly lost her focus on the discussion and turned her attention to the auditorium.

The house was small, and the walls were covered with heavy tapestries, showing scenes of ancient wars. The description of the last battle against evil is highlighted. Scarsrock-iron claws ride on his powerful two-footed dragon, the Destruction Fang.

There is also the pious Marnus, who is wearing heavy armor, shining brightly, wearing a holy halo on his head, and holding a huge spear symbolizing the emperor in one hand. There is also Shazan Alexander, like a mortal deity in gilded armor.

The horned beasts squinted their eyes from the thick hairy faces. Noble knights and winged cavalry came to meet them on horseback. The smallest evil moon glared fiercely in the sky, looking bigger than any time Angelica had been in her life, except in recent weeks.