The royal city of Sunderland is also worthy of the prestige of the great empire of Sunderland. The pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info winds into three urban districts from the outside to the inside, and the three rings are layered together, and the middle is the majestic king's castle. The entire three-storey urban area gradually rises from the outside in, and from the inside to the outside, the highest points of the various buildings are connected to form a huge inverted funnel shape. However, the entire outer city covers a large area, so the slope of this funnel is not too steep.

The buildings of the city are denser than any other place, with undulating heights and staggered patterns. The architectural style is uniform and monotonous, and it looks like a concrete jungle from a high place. The three districts are separated by a towering wall, one floor taller than the next, and the huge castle in the center and the towers rising above the castle, which together look like an old evil empire.

Ambrose. Pecoli, who had not come out of his castle since the day Sunderland's troops attacked again. It wasn't that there was any other reason that restricted his movements, it was just that he simply didn't want to come out.

Ambrose couldn't get too old, and with the help of Raymond's "bloodline" system, he became the longest-reigning king in human history to date, and he reigned longer than any other king. This kind of life beyond the laws of life will certainly not be perfect. Although he did not die, aging inevitably eroded him. At least on the surface, he looks definitely worthy of his actual age.

Today, instead of discussing state affairs with his courtiers in the hall on the second floor of the castle, as he had done countless times before, King Ambrose gathered in a much smaller room in one of the castle's tallest towers. The king sat on a throne above all the others, and the courtiers peered into the room.

And so it went on for the third day. Ambrose summoned them every day for three days, according to tradition, but said not a word, either from the highest tower of the castle looking down on the whole city, or from his seat he watched them all as if he were dead.

From the moment the Skaloans led by Angus breached the last fortress, Ambrose seemed particularly wrong. The grumpy man was uncharacteristically angry at everyone, did not smash the decorations in the hall, drew the swords of his attendants and cut down the precious paintings on the walls—but sighed deeply at everyone, and finally waved his hand to the guards to drive everyone out.

This feeling is self-evident.

But this does not mean that he has really calmed the anger in his heart, he did nothing that day, but it does not mean that he will not do anything. Early the next morning, King Ambrose issued an order to behead eleven officials involved, and ordered that no one should be allowed to clean the place of execution, and it was maintained after the execution. This directly reduced the number of people gathered in front of the king in the past few days, and the rest were all silent, and when Ambrose's gaze swept towards him, he did not dare to come out at all.

King Ambrose sat on his seat, his body partially obscured by a scarlet-trimmed cloak. He just supported his head with his left hand and his eyes half-closed. Only occasionally would the wrinkles on his face twitch slightly with his muscles. The left sleeve that supported the head slid down the arm, revealing a small piece of metal on the inside of the wrist. Like Raymond before, he needed regular injections of that emerald green solution to maintain it.

If it weren't for breathing, it would be like a dead man.

He was flanked by a heavily armed guard, which was distributed throughout the castle and the city, including the room in the present tower, with two rows around it, covering themselves with helmets and standing as statues.

King Ambrose finally got up from his seat, let go of his head with his left hand, and motioned to his subordinates, and one of the servants hastened to bring up a large wine cup of pure gold, and after the king had seized it, poured blood-red wine into the glass.

The king took a sip of the glass, part of which hung from his gray beard, and he did not care at all, but stood up from his place with the glass, and the cloak of the piping hung down his back. This action also startled the officials in the room, and one by one they quickly reined in their thoughts and stood honestly in front of the king.

"Gentlemen......" Ambrose said in a slow tone, glancing at the crowd. His voice was not so old, but it quickly lost several minutes of neutrality after a few days: "What if...... When given a chance to correct your mistakes, which one would you choose to do all over again? ”

Ambrose threw the question out as if the previous long silence did not exist at all, and did not even contain the slightest hint of anger in his tone, but there was not the slightest doubt. A group of ministers looked at each other, wondering if the question was really for them to answer, or if it was just a primer for the king.

"It was four months before the whole war was started," Ambrose added, as if he didn't care about the reaction of his ministers, and continued to add to his own questions: "It is to shift the strategic center from the Confederate to the north...... Will it be to re-engage the Battle of Actral, or to reset the strategic deployment in the north up to the St. Margaery Icefield...... Or ...... To be specific? ”

He stepped down from his seat, walked to the minister closest to him, walked in a half-circle next to the other party with a wine glass, and looked him up and down with the same gaze as if he had seen this person for the first time: "Defensive battle of Purniden?" The Kezia Project? Or should we kill Raymond sooner rather than later? Rodney and Frossa. Wins, Jesse? ”

The unlucky guy who was stared at by Ambrose was also a little old, his white hair was obviously mixed with black hair, and although his body in a white outfit was standing quite straight, the fine beads of sweat on his forehead kept coming out, and his eyes were also deeply lowered, and he didn't dare to make contact with Ambrose at all.

The eerie silence lasted for half a minute, and these tens of seconds were as long as hours for everyone except Ambrose himself, and no one dared to say a word more, and in the end, only Ambrose himself broke the silence: "What? What about your plans? What about your opinions! ”

As if he wanted to suppress the anger in his heart, he poured a large gulp of wine directly into his throat: "Then who can tell me who fell into the trap of the No. 1 Ice Crystal Dragon and sent the No. 1 Ice Crystal Dragon into the trap of Scaloya's gang of mongrels!?" ”

Ambrose finally pulled his gaze away and glanced at everyone again, and the one he had just stared at was finally secretly relieved, and wanted to lie down on the ground.

"Nydiado. Lake, he, he's been put to death, Your Majesty. ”

The crowd did not know who had the courage to speak out, and finally answered the king's question, and reminded the king that the person he asked had been executed by him.

Ambrose. Pecoli, the king of Sunderland, at this time faced his courtiers, and from the bottom of his heart, he evaluated them in two words:

“…… Waste"

He seemed to lose interest in saying more, and took his glass and poured all the wine down his throat, the wine that came out of his mouth stained half of his beard red, and a little on the ground. After he had drunk all the wine in the large cup, the servants on the side hurried up and filled the cup.

Now King Ambrose, he feels he has so much to say. From the very beginning of the offensive plan to be made, to whom to use and who to abandon in the course of the war, what plans were passed and rejected before that, the shift of the strategic center, and the assessment of the combat effectiveness of one's own army, and most importantly, the absurd emergence of Skaloa. There's so much to look back on, it's just that it's too late.

After Skaloa's forces destroyed the Ice Crystal Dragon sent to annihilate them unscathed, everyone already knew that they had once again lost the battle bet, and that their internal worries had not been solved with the Ice Dragon, and that they had not even been able to pose enough threat to the enemy. There is no advantage in the foreign war for a while, there is nothing to recover, and the army that can easily kill the Ice Crystal Dragon is marching towards the royal city like a bamboo, and it will soon appear in front of everyone here.

And if all goes well, today is the time for them to march here.

There was no one left to stop them, and destroying the Ice Crystal Dragon was like a sign, and all the defenders who faced them were scared by three points because of this, which was a fatal flaw in the wars of this era. Such a defender has no chance of winning in the face of an enemy who is as powerful as a rainbow and has divine help.

Ambrose was not interested in refilling the glass, he held it up, his gaze resting on the reflective rim, and then scanned back and forth aimlessly on the bright red wine, and then he stopped and observed for a while, then he suddenly raised the golden glass and threw it on the marble floor with all his strength—"A bunch of waste!!" ”

From the depths of his heart, a roar like a beast.

Did you hear that? The sound of an explosion.

The courtiers had been so frightened by Ambrose's roar that no one noticed for a long time that there was already a sound of magical explosions and hand-to-hand combat outside the castle.

Ambrose walked through a group of stunned ministers and two guards out of the room, standing in the outer hallway of the tower and watching everything in the city in the distance.

They've rushed in.

Enemies, armies, Skaloa's blades. (To be continued.) )