As night fell, the church bells rang, the church deacon led the nobles in, the priest stood on the pulpit and preached sonorously, everyone listened with bated breath to the threat of the end times, Arrod was bored playing with the rose rosary in his hand, spices from the far east were ignited, and in the clouds and mist, under the candlelight, people seemed to be really in the realm of heaven. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 ｉｎｆｏ

"May the Lord bless you." When the church service is over, people line up to the priest to receive the blessing of bread and wine.

"It's a long ceremony." Walking out of the church and breathing in the cold air, Arrod's head finally cleared up a little, and he said to Princess Josie beside him.

"You should be a little more religious." Princess Josie reminded Arrode.

"Wow, got it. By the way, I have something to wait for a while. Arold said to Princess Josie.

"Are you alone?" Princess Josie asked.

"Harvey will be with me." Arold hesitated, but felt that there was no need to hide, so he said to Princess Josie.

Princess Josie paused when she heard this, but soon walked towards the castle with the maids, Arold had been wondering who would be waiting for her in the cemetery, and with curiosity Arold was moving to the cemetery.

In the valley not far from the church, there is a weeping old oak tree growing crookedly, and under the trees are rows of crosses and tombstones, carved from marble or other stones, under which are the Saxon nobles.

Of course, it is impossible for a real royal family to be buried here, and not far from these ordinary tombstones, there is a dome-shaped burial chamber, and as soon as you enter the burial chamber, you can see seven one-person-high iron candlestick shelves, the candles on the door are lit continuously throughout the year, and the coffins of Prince Otto's dead relatives are placed side by side in the dimly lit burial chamber.

"Da-da." Arold walked into the tomb, the sound of footsteps echoing in the tomb, the candlelight of the candles flickering as a grave keeper rose from the dark corner, his whole body shrouded in gray burqa, and slowly walked to the candlestick.

"Huh?" Arold stopped there. If you look closely at this seemingly ordinary grave keeper, there are only the two of them in the dark environment.

"I beg your pardon for choosing to see you in this place, Lord Duke." The grave keeper turned, and he took off his hood from his head. A face that Arrod knew was revealed.

"Lord Duncan?" Slightly surprised, Duncan had disappeared after Duke Abel died, and Arold thought he was dead.

"Yes, but Duncan is one of my many identities." Duncan bowed to Arold as if they were in the court of the Duke of Able. As I saw it for the first time.

"A pseudonym?" Arold asked.

"It doesn't matter, how does it feel to be a duke?" Duncan said to Arjord.

"Hmph, does this have anything to do with you?"

"Of course, your rise has a special significance, and everything is revealed in the prophecy." Duncan walked over to the candlelight and stretched out his hand to extinguish the light of a candle.

"Prophecy? I don't believe the groans of those sick, huh. Arold waved his hand as if to chase away a fly in front of him.

"Since the time of the ancient Greeks, there have been many wise men who predicted the future, and even among the dark columns of the ancient Roman Empire, there were prophets who stopped." Duncan said to Arjord.

"But it doesn't seem to work. Both Greece and Rome are silent in the dust of history, so prophecy is simply the delusion of the ignorant. Arold said to Duncan.

"I used to think it was, but it wasn't until something I saw in your territory that I had to believe the scrolls left behind by the prophets." Duncan slowly walked to the stone bench in the burial chamber and sat down, keeping an eye on what Arold had done and what had happened in Mecklenburg.

"Huh?" Arrod was alert, was there really a prophecy?

"I'll show you this, as a sincere gesture of our cooperation, and then we'll have another chance to talk about how to save this filthy and hopelessly bad world." Duncan stood up and left a parchment booklet. Then he walked slowly into the darkness, walking very slowly, but Arold's attention was on the book.

"This is, this is." Arold walked over and picked up the booklet, almost stunned when he opened it. In the sketch of the scribbled note, it is vaguely a duel between two spear phalanxes and musketeers, and next to it is a reader who asks a puzzled question, who does not understand why the two sides are aiming at each other with wooden sticks.

"How's the owner of this booklet?"

Arold picked up the parchment and returned to the castle, his mind full of wonder, whether there was another time-traveler in this world. If so, why didn't he use his talents to make his name in history, or if history would not allow the time-traveler to surface, then what would be his fate.

"Arrod, what's wrong with you?" Princess Josie looked at Arjord sitting on the wooden chair, as if she was lost in thought, and couldn't help asking.

"If I weren't me, would we still meet, or be married?" Arold took Princess Josie's hand and asked her.

"What's wrong with you, are you sick?" Princess Josie asked curiously.

"No, it's okay, pour me some wine." Arold smiled, and when he heard Little William's cry, he couldn't help but feel soft in his heart.

"Arrod, I've always wanted to ask my brother how the hell did Abel die?" Suddenly, Princess Josie asked Arrod.

Why do you ask? The cause of Duke Mason's death is well known. Have you heard any gossip? Arold looked up and said to his wife.

"Ah, it's okay, of course I believe what you say." Princess Josie said to Arrod.

After receiving Arold's letter, Mecklenburg's fleet quickly assembled in the port under the command of Soros, and the port where the merchant ships had gathered became the place where the army was assembled, and they would send Arold's army to the East Flemish territory by sea, from where they could reach the nearest destination along the tributaries of the Rhine.

"How's the Count of Yves preparing?" Soros looked at the fleet with satisfaction, Arold handed over the fleet to his command, looking at the vast sea, Soros felt as if he was sailing on his own territory.

"It should be soon, is there another war?" By Soros's side is his son, who helps Soros take care of the caravans at sea.

"Yes, and the place to go this time is deep in the heart of Europa, and there will definitely be a lot to prepare." Soros said to his son.

"Look, Count Yves is here."

Outside the harbor there was the rumble of horses' hooves, and the flag of the Teutonic Knights came into view, and Count Yve, surrounded by knights, entered the harbor, and he jumped off his horse, and Soros immediately stepped down from the side of the ship with his son.

"Lord Count, the ship is ready." Soros said to Ive.

"So what are you waiting for, the army has already been assembled." Yves took off his helmet and handed it to his attendants.

"We still have to wait for the wind to blow." Soros reports to Count Yve.

"I hate waiting." Count Yves complained.

"We've got a room ready, so please rest there for the night." Soros deliberately vacated a merchant's house in the harbor to entertain Count Yves.

"Don't bother, I'll camp outside the harbor with my soldiers, and call me when the wind blows better." Yves waved his hand to Soros and remounted his horse and walked out of the harbor.

"Lord Earl, how much food do you need for me to provide for the soldiers?"

"See for yourself." Yves smiled slightly, kicked his mount with the spur in his heel, and headed out of the harbor.

"Oh?" Soros followed Yves suspiciously, and when he walked out of the port, he saw a team of 2,000 people moving along the winding path in the direction of the port.

"Father, I'm afraid I won't be able to transport it all at once." Soros's son opened his mouth, and he looked at the brightly armored Mecklenburg legionnaires, who were definitely not peasant conscripts pulled out of the fields like ordinary lords.

"Such a lineup should achieve an imperial feat." Soros's eyes couldn't help but show an eager look, and he muttered Hebrew to himself.

(Season 1: Medieval Life Ends)

(Season 2 may be planned for writing depending on the situation) (To be continued.) )