Loren was unaware of the matter of "passing by" with a certain elf prince - of course, even if he knew, he would basically choose to pretend not to know.

Nothing else, the main thing is that the death of the Eagle King taught him a lesson that was too "profound".

The Azorean elves' particularly "straightforward" values make capturing their commanders a particularly thankless task.

You can't get any advantage from them, or even blackmail or provoke them, because they don't think it's the enemy who is taking them alive, it's not the enemy who is "capturing" you.

Therefore, once you have captured an Azorean elf, you have only two options - kill it directly, or drain the intel and then kill it.

And in a sense, Loren didn't really expect something to happen to the little elven prince - the reason is simple, sometimes an enemy with a normal brain and has already figured out the routine by himself is even much stronger than a pig teammate with an abnormal brain.

At the same time, the Eagle King is now dead, and the two heirs who are eligible to inherit the throne are in control of the two Azorean elven armies in the direction of Ebolden and Lothair, respectively, if Rodria Azores is killed, it is equivalent to giving the elven army, which is still divided in two, have a single commander, which is very detrimental to the empire.

And once the little prince is killed, the subsequent elven army will immediately launch a strong attack on the imperial capital even if it is for revenge, so no matter what the result is, Loren, who is still outside the city, has nothing to do with this imperial capital offensive and defensive battle.

Because of this, from a very strange point of view, the elven prince, who chose to run away without hesitation at the moment, not only saved himself, but also did Loren a great favor.

Illuminated by the golden-red firelight, the black-haired wizard with the Dawn sword on the ground stood in the middle of the captured manor.

Behind him, there are Byrne knights and demon hunters holding high the golden lion battle flag on a black background and holding guns;

On the other side, there are Azorean elven warriors who are embarrassed and look like ashes.

The deathly silence lasted for a quarter of an hour amid the crackling of the burning houses, and the remaining elven warriors trembled one by one in the face of the Byrne knights and witchers who had slaughtered them almost one-sidedly in the face of the surprise attack that had been launched a quarter of an hour earlier, and their sword-wielding hands seemed to be stiff and sore from holding them for too long.

"Er, Er, and other fanatics!"

Finally, in a panic, an elven warrior who looked like a leader took the initiative to stand up, trembling uncontrollably, but still stubbornly looked at the black-haired wizard:

"Don't, don't think that you have won the victory in this dishonorable way, even if you have won - the army of His Highness Rodria Azores has already occupied all the surrounding lands, and hundreds of thousands of troops have already surrounded your capital. ”

"It won't be half a day before reinforcements arrive, and then you will all die under the katana, and pay the price for your vileness and shamelessness!"

"Your Emperor has been surrounded by His Majesty the Great Eagle King in the Broken Boundary Mountain, the defense line you have painstakingly organized has been completely crushed by us, and your capital is already in danger, as long as hundreds of thousands of warriors blow their breath, it will be overturned!"

"And, don't think that we won't know the true identity of the fanatics without speaking—knights of Byrne, Venerable Highness Rodria can defeat you once at Ebolden, and he will defeat you a second time, a third time... Until the whole army is wiped out, and the country is destroyed!"

"Hey, answer me, look me in the eye, madman, don't think you can ...... just by avoiding the samurai's sight."

Ignoring the defeat of a remnant of his own army that had emboldened him, the black-haired wizard turned his gaze to his right, where a group of equally terrified, trembling like a sieve, were curling their necks and staring at him.

The natives who didn't have time to escape but escaped the first massacre, and were locked up like cattle by the elves.

At a cursory glance, there are basically half-grown children and young people in ragged clothes—there are not many women, children, old and weak, and there are not many young or rich people in the true sense of the word.

"I've asked, and they're mostly local orphans and domestic servants and tenant farmers from wealthy families. ”

The little priest Weber walked slowly, with a hint of anger in his expression: "These in front of you... It's all the people who survived in this town, and the rest were ......."

He didn't finish, but everyone in the room knew what he meant.

In other words, the useless "women, children, the old and weak" and the "young and strong" who still dared to resist have already been killed in the first round of massacres, and all those who remain are useless and useless in not daring to resist.

Apparently, the elven prince also realized that they alone could not control these villages and territories, and even if they wanted to establish their rule here, they would have to leave a minimum of imperial slaves.

The black-haired wizard said in his heart.

"Everyone, believers of the Holy Cross!" cried out Weber to the ragged people, with open arms:

"My name is Weber, and I am the bishop of the Holy Cross Church in the Duchy of Byrne, and the one standing next to me is the Duke of Byrne - we are the army of the Empire, we are here to defeat the Azorean elves, we are here to help you!"

"His Highness Brandon de Salion, as well as the armies from all over the empire, tens of thousands of warriors are gathering and marching in the direction of the imperial capital - they are all comrades-in-arms who have come to the aid and fight alongside you!"

"Defeat and pain are temporary, you are not alone!"

"Therefore, all believers of the Holy Cross, stand up and fight alongside the Duke of Byrne and his knights—we will give you weapons, supplies, and everything you need to help you reclaim your homeland, your own!"

"Stand up, brave believers, and let us fight side by side under the same banner!"

The excited little priest Weber raised his hands, his chest heaving violently as if he was cheering.

Merely... In the dead silence of the manor, he could only hear the sound of his own cheering.

The "survivors" huddled in a heap shivered, looking at the blood-stained Byrne knights with suspicion and fear, as well as at the sharp-edged Azorean elven warriors.

The flames danced in the cold wind of early spring, and the faces of the survivors were only cold.

Holding down the little priest Weber, who had a somewhat lost expression, the black-haired wizard with a flat expression walked towards the survivors who were full of wariness of him.

"I said ......"

"Maniac, how dare you turn your back on a noble Azorean elven warrior?!" a hysterical shout exploded behind the black-haired wizard:

"Turn to me - in the name of a samurai, I ask for a one-on-one duel with you! If you still think you're not a coward who knows nothing more than intrigues, accept my challenge!"

A hint of annoyance flashed across the black-haired wizard's face.

"I say, are any of you in military service, or have been trained?" Ignoring the clamor behind him, Loren muttered to the survivors, "I've heard that the Sakran are all required to serve in the military, and they need to undergo at least three months of armed training a year. ”

"You don't have to be an officer or a knight, you just have to be trained – spears, swords, knives, shields, axes... Anything!"

"Bang!"

The black-haired wizard casually threw the Azorean knife he had picked up at the feet of the survivors, and pointed his thumb behind him: "Fifty gold coins, slaughter that fly for me." ”

The survivors were silent.

"You madman, don't think you can ...... with such humiliating means"

"Luceen!" Loren did not reply, "shut up the fly; ”

"Yes!"

The gray-eyed boy snorted coldly, and raised his right hand - the surrounding witchers and Byrne knights raised their crossbows and cavalry bows, and pointed their bows and arrows at the elven warriors who had been surrounded.

The scene immediately fell silent.

"Let me ask again, fifty gold coins, is anyone willing to stand up?"

There was a commotion among the survivors, but many subconsciously retracted their necks.

"So, a hundred gold coins... Is anyone willing to earn this money?"

Looking at the survivors who had always been indifferent, Little Priest Weber showed a somewhat disappointed expression.

"For the last time... Three hundred gold coins, I won't increase the price again. ”

Looking at the pair of eyes staring at him, Loren's right hand raised three fingers: "Three hundred gold coins, kill that fly with this knife - I guarantee in the capacity of Loren Turin, Duke of Byrne, no jokes!"

A thin child, trembling in the eyes of the survivors, raised his hand, picked up the Azorean long knife, which was too big for him, and looked at the black-haired wizard with fear in his eyes.

"That's... Duke, duke... You promised, three or three hundred gold coins......"

"I promised, and I did what I said. ”

The black-haired wizard said calmly, turning his gaze to little Yod behind him;

The tax collector, who was hiding in the crowd, took off the saddle bag from the saddle with a painful look on his face, and threw it on the ground with a "bang!" - heavy gold coins poured out of the saddle bag.

Three hundred gold coins... Looking at the shiny "small discs", the eyes of the survivors were straight - not a single of the Byrne knights standing with swords on the opposite side dared to rush forward and snatch them.

The emaciated child swallowed, clenched the hilt of his sword and turned his gaze to the elven warrior opposite, the "long-eared monster" with a vicious and hideous face, and in his eyes had turned into a bag full of gold coins on the ground.

"Ahh——!!!!h

Looking at the half-grown boy who didn't know how to use a knife at all, waving it indiscriminately and rushing towards him, the elven warrior with a hideous face sneered.

He guessed what Duke Byrne wanted to do, but he didn't intend to make the other party happy - even if he died, he would make his opponent's intrigues unable to succeed.

The corners of his mouth were coldly hooked, and the elven warrior also raised his long knife.

"Poof!"

Suddenly, an invisible wave of qi hit his chest, and the elven warrior with a sweet throat trembled, and when he looked up in horror, he saw Duke Byrne on the other side, sneering at him.

This vile and shameless fanatic——!

"Ahhhh——!!!!h

The half-grown boy who roared hysterically plunged his long knife into the torso of the elven warrior, and as blood splattered, an elven warrior was knocked to the ground by a child in full view of everyone.

The boy roared angrily without stopping, pulling out his long knife like a battle axe, slashing wildly.

"Ahh......——!h

The crazy cry was stopped by a hand, and the palm that was holding his shoulder, and the young man who looked up saw the elf in front of him who had been cut into shape, and the Duke of Byrne standing behind him.

"You, you said you were Duke Byrne?" the young man gasped and stared at the black-haired wizard in a daze: "I, I've heard the rich people in the village say that there used to be a Duke of Byrne, who was called the 'Black Duke'. ”

"Who is he, is he your grandfather?"

The black-haired wizard didn't answer, but turned his head and waved behind him, and the Byrne knights, who understood it, threw their freshly snatched loot in front of the survivors.

Blood-stained knives are piled up as many as hills.

The frightened and frightened survivors, their eyes wandering between the weapon and Loren's figure.

It can be seen that they are very afraid, and in the face of this "unexpected situation", their first thought is not revenge, or taking refuge in the lord in front of them who saved their lives, but running away.

After all, any survivor who survived had never resisted when the elves took over the place, and all they could think of now was to escape as quickly as possible and hide in a safe place.

But......

"Everyone—" The black-haired wizard said in a deep voice, "I know what you guys think, but I'm sorry, I can't help you now!"

"We have captured the stronghold of the Azorean elves, killed all their warriors, and in less than half a day reinforcements will arrive, and when they arrive, even if only to retaliate, there will be no survivors left. ”

"Therefore there is only one road left before you. Loren raised his broadsword and pointed at the weapon on the ground:

"Pick them up, kill all the flies behind me, snatch enough supplies from them, and run for the Imperial Capital!"

"There are tens of thousands of troops there, walls that the enemy cannot penetrate, and countless riches, weapons, and food that can guarantee your absolute safety; It's the only way you can run for your life!"

"So run, get close to what you can and escape to the imperial capital, only there you are safe!"

"You have as much food as you have, as much as you have with you, and as many weapons as you have, even if you encounter an enemy who is being pursued, you are not without room for resistance, and how many people can escape to the imperial capital alive depends on your own luck. ”

"And when you arrive in the imperial capital, if the army guarding the city refuses to open the door for you, then show them this banner, and ask if any of the troops guarding the gate are from Byrne, and if they remember the Black Duke and the Dragon Empress, and then tell them......"

Loren, who took over the gold lion battle flag on a black background from Lusen, stuffed his hand into the arms of the half-grown child:

"Tell them, Black Duke... It's back!"