The year 1444 was a terrible year for Bourbon, and the Bourbons who lived in this era were living in hell.

When I was young, I heard that Bourbon was the greatest and most civilized country in the world, that every land had Bourbon houses, and every sea had Bourbon ships, but with the burning Palace of the General Assembly, all this became a lost memory, an irretrievable memory.

The man who caused all this is dead, but the Bourbons, persecuted by his policies, have to live on and struggle in this dark age. We used to think that Bourbon was so miserable that he should be at the bottom of hell, right? But every time we find out that this is not the bottom of hell, and we are still going down.

Yes, it is still falling, and now Bourbon is occupied by more than a dozen consuls, who declare themselves orthodox to each other, accuse each other of being villains who steal the country, and then kill each other without grace, sometimes uniting with each other, sometimes betraying each other, and the flames of war continue to burn in this former most prosperous land.

Large numbers of middle-class families were fleeing Bourbon, the nobles were reluctant to give up their own territory if their families were not raided, and the poor had no way to escape, so those who had only the last bit of possessions, most of them skilled citizens, fled Bourbon Island.

Since the country founded by the Bonn people (now called the Pokans) has always been regarded as a barbarian land, and the religious districts and the diaspora union are not much better, the only places for the noble islanders to flee are the north and south passages, and because the middle class of the fleeing people are skilled, Boris and Polly welcome them with open arms.

Of course, because to go to Poli had to pass through the territorial waters of Bourbon, most of the refugees fled to Boris and settled in Boris, and Boris also ate a mouthful of fat during the civil strife in Bourbon, but that is another story.

Those people can escape, because they are just poor ghosts affected by the current situation, but I, who am already a person in the bureau, can't escape, I can only stay here, or usher in the end of chaos, or usher in my own death, no matter which ending, I am mentally prepared.

But what if the war goes on like this? I'm only 33 years old now, so I don't have to worry about my health for the time being, but what will I do if the war continues in 20 years? This question occasionally flashes through my mind, and then I take a sip of wine and forget about it, thinking about tomorrow? Why think about tomorrow?

And people like me, in today's Bourbon, abound, we are drunk and dreaming of death, we drink and feast all day long, and we don't take our lives seriously when we fight.

I even saw the corners of Death's mouth curled up and the crashing waves of the River Styx.

In the years that followed, Bourbon fought endlessly, with some consuls falling and others rising again, some by father, by coup d'état, or both.

Because of the stimulus of the Bourbon Civil War, even Maisica once again attacked Bourbon, still the kind of war without a declaration of war, and they directly attacked the indoctrination area without warning on the grounds that because Bourbon did not have a legitimate consul, they did not need to submit a declaration of war.

At first, the Governors appealed to the Governors for help, but the Governors were more enthusiastic about the internal war than the expedition to aid the Correctional District, and as a result, none of the Governors were willing to carry the banner—except for a few noble volunteers.

In the end, it was the Overseas Chinese Alliance that took the initiative to cross the sea to aid the indoctrination area, and carried the banner of resistance against Maisica.

However, this action of the Diaspora Alliance has no impact on the governors, and their conscience will not hurt at all, and they continue to be cheeky and kill each other at home, ignoring the outside world.

Time flies, time flies, and more than 20 years have passed in the blink of an eye.

My sturdy body, with the erosion of the years, although fortunately did not suffer any irreversible damage in the war, but with the passage of time, it also aged a little bit, and the vitality was lost a little bit, and my rebellious adjutants looked at me more and more unkindly.

The Governor to whom I had defected after leaving Boris had already retired by electricity in the third year of the Civil War, and I was no longer an army of a particular Governor, but a mercenary.

Mercenaries, which means that whichever consul can afford it, we will go to him and fight for him. In addition to agreeing that it is the devil guaranteeing us, our mercenaries have no credibility in their personal morality, and they are tyrannical and repetitive, which is the best explanation for us mercenaries.

Oh yes, the devil, the devil is now divided into white devils and black devils, the white devil is the devil who is kind at heart, and the black devil is the evil devil. But I don't see any difference, the asking price of the two devils is the same, it is enough to know one thing, and it will not be condemned to make a deal with the white devil.

The reason why I became the leader of this mercenary group was only because I was the most powerful and war-savvy existence in this group, and they had to obey me under the pressure of the powerful me. But as I get older, one day I will lose my position as the head of the mercenary group, and those who lose the position of head of the group will not end well.

After all, the war mercenary is a new concept that has emerged over the years, how to play, how to design the rules? No one knows, so I can only use the tired corpses to accumulate experience, and now, it seems that I am going to become an inconspicuous one among the many corpses.

That day happened much earlier than I thought, because one of the consuls I chose was a stupid and incompetent fat man, who lost the battle and caused our mercenary group to suffer heavy casualties, and closed the city gates and refused to let us in, saying that it was our fault that he lost the battle.

At first, we tried to attack the city, but unfortunately we were unsuccessful, so we had to flee in confusion, only to encounter a rare storm on the way, and the mercenary group was drenched enough.

After this back and forth, the mercenaries' dissatisfaction broke out, and as the head of the regiment, I was very unfortunate to become the object of resentment.

A mutiny took place, and the leaders I had the least to deal with launched a mutiny against me, fighting with my cronies, but I was outnumbered and had to flee with a few of my cronies.

In the process of escaping, my third wife was taken captive, my children were once again killed in battle, and I had no offspring.

"Ahh

Seeing my devastation, a few of my cronies who had escaped with me silently retreated, believing that I was no longer worth following, while others who were loyal to me still tried to encourage me.

"Commander Luer, you can do it again if you fail this time, don't be discouraged!"

Maybe they were well-intentioned, but hearing their pathetic level of encouragement only made me more angry: "Do you know how many years it is this year? In the year 1473 of the Great Calendar! I am already 61 years old! I have a lot of beard, how can I have the capital to start over!"

"Besides, since 1444, Bourbon has been fighting for 29 years, and dozens of consuls have been fighting on this small island for 29 years, what future does Bourbon have? What can we see again? Is the bottom of the abyss not yet there, has not yet arrived! No one can save Bourbon!"

"That's because you don't want to do it! You don't want to work hard, and I do!"

At this time, a firm voice came from behind me, and I turned my head to see that it was a nobleman I didn't know, but his face was not the languishing demeanor of other nobles, nor the arrogant and arrogant demeanor, but a very confident and determined demeanor, which could give people a good impression at a glance.

I kept my mouth shut, not because of how much the nobleman's language moved me, but because of the huge fleet behind the nobleman, and the flag of Ingona seemed to be flying.

"Hehe, since 1453, the south (referring to Boris) has been supporting his consul on Bourbon every day, and now even the fish belly of Ingona has actually thought about it?

"First, I'm not the Governor now, and second, I'm in equal partnership with Ingona, because Ingona's hope is nothing more than a powerful Bourbon to contain Boemi. ”

"What is Boemi?" asked a junior next to me, and I smacked him on the head.

In 1453, the Confederation of Expatriates and the Colony of the Dragons merged to form the Autonomous Region of the Boemies, which, together with the Indoctrination, were the last two lands of the Bourbon overseas. ”

"It's the last land now," the nobleman sighed, "you don't know, the Autonomous Region officially incorporated the Indoctrination District into its jurisdiction one month ago, and now the Indoctrination District no longer exists. ”

Hearing the news, I was shocked and speechless for a while, the indoctrination area that has existed for hundreds of years is now gone.

"You seem to have been through a lot, old man, and it's been almost twenty years since I left Bourbon, so come aboard the boat and tell me what's going on in Bourbon today. "At this time, the nobles also sent me an invitation.

When I first received the invitation of the nobles, the younger brothers were still a little hesitant, but I agreed directly, after all, what can a nobleman ask for an old man like me?

This nobleman behaved very well with us commoners, almost like the image of a good nobleman in a fairy tale, an image that I almost forgot about.

I learned who this nobleman was, Felison Germak, the sinister species of the Germak family, who had been almost wiped out.

Born in 1420 A.D., he was a sensation when he was 12 years old when he made a stir for his infant advice to Luhr VIII during the celebration of the 1300th anniversary of the founding of Bourbon.

However, after the coup d'état of Andre III in 1441, many of Felison's views diverged with those of Andrei III and his distant relatives, and he was finally forbidden to enter the Palais des Congaistors by Andrei III, when he was 21 years old.

After the coup d'état of Boris V in 1443, although Felison and Andrei III did not have a good relationship, he was expelled from Boris V at the age of 23 because he was also a member of the Germak family.

In 1444, after the twenty-fourth year of the consul, Bourbon began to reassail and destroy the Germak family, and Felison had to hide in Tibet at the age of 24.

In 1450, when Maisica launched an attack on the Correction, the nobles who claimed to be the Bourbon Governors were too obsessed with civil war to support, and only this Felison set foot on the soil of the Correctional District with volunteers who followed him, and he was 30 years old.

In 1457, when Dieter and Pisa were captured by Maisica, even Boemi withdrew from the Mairamie Peninsula and chose to accumulate forces for a counterattack against Japan, but Felison remained and began a decade-long lonely struggle against the resistance, when he was 37 years old.

In 1471, the 21-year war with Maisica finally ended, and Maisica withdrew from the Indoctrination districts of Dieter and Pisa, and Boemi was victorious. Thanks to him, the Boemi were willing to grant him an official position and let him stay here, but he was not willing, so Boemi imprisoned him, and at the age of 51, the black-haired man had become a white-haired man.

In 1473, rescued by Incona, he escaped from Boemi's captivity and traveled with his followers to the Western Frontier League, then returned to Bourbon, where he was 53 years old.

"You could have received a high official fortune on the Myramie Peninsula, because you have given so much to the Myrami Peninsula, but why would you give up everything to answer this country hostile to Gelmak?" I asked, puzzled.

His answer was brief: "Because this is Bourbon." ”

It was this simple sentence that made me decide to follow him.

I am 61 years old, and three times my sons have all died, and I am destined to have no offspring. When I was young, Bourbon was already in decline, and now Bourbon is even more erosive, and I don't want my life's contribution to be to make Bourbon doomed, at least to do something.

My body is old, my vision is blurred, and my life has come to an end, so I can only give him this life, hoping that he will fulfill his promise.

It was my last, desperate attempt, desperate and the only reward was an unpredictable future.