At 9 o'clock in the evening of DR3717-04-10, Yincheng time, when Tie Slag and the others sailed into the 58th war zone, near Elk City, on a large battleship covered in silver gray and painted with birds and garlands, two men were drinking wine and chatting. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 ｉｎｆｏ

This is the living room on the ship, which is very luxuriously decorated, with a large number of crystals inlaid on the top, and the light shines through from the inside, which is extremely gorgeous.

One of the men was slender and indifferent, dressed in a light gray robe with an iron skull cross on his chest, leaning against a mahogany bar. The table was shining, reflecting his handsome face. The other man was burly, with a hard face line, and a majesty between his eyebrows, quite a military temperament.

These two, the former is Matthew the Chosen One, the first in line to the throne of the Gresham family, the great nobles of the West, and the latter is Mason March, the captain of the Sixth Brigade of the Fifth Army of the Dawn Expeditionary Force.

"I'm sorry, Master Matthew, but I couldn't get a place in the war." Mason's face was solemn, and he said helplessly. The March family is a vassal nobleman of the Gresham family, and Mason was single-handedly raised by them.

"Is it because of the kid named Hildebrand?" Matthew asked with a complacent look.

"It's him." Mason nodded. In the past two years, the princess of the temple has promoted many newcomers. And these newcomers, one by one, are more difficult than the other, and Hildebrand Suja is one of them. They are incompatible with the interest groups formed by the expeditionary force over the years, and they rely on their special status to be honest with their superiors. Things that could have been easily operated have become very complicated because of their presence.

For example, this time, the acting marshal sent some knights from the Fifth Army to participate in the war, and Mason wanted to send henchmen so that he could take care of his own forces on the battlefield, but he was directly disturbed by Hildebrand.

"Is there any of us in his squadron?" Matthew asked.

"Yes." Mason affirmed.

"Then find a chance...... "As he spoke, Matthew suddenly let go, and the glass fell to the ground, shattering into several pieces with a "ping" sound.

"This ......" Mason's face changed and he hesitated, "...... the princess's side"

"She's gone to retreat, and ......," Matthew said after a pause, "it's a clear sign that she's choosing to leave at a time like this." ”

"Huh?" Mason frowned, looking a little puzzled.

Matthew smiled and asked, "Do you think a leader who monopolizes all interests will be embraced?" ”

Mason shook his head.

"She's a smart person, and she's realized that she's been too aggressive in the past two years." Matthew said slowly, "Take a step back, even if she is the Pope, the temple is not her alone, so ......"

"She made a concession." Matthew poured another glass of wine, held it up, and said, "But it's all premised......" he glanced meaningfully at the captain, "there is no evidence." ”

Mason nodded thoughtfully, clinked his glass with Matthew, and drank it down.

At the same time, in the sixty-second theater, in the command tent of the expeditionary force, Hildebrand was chatting with his adjutant about the same problem.

"Boss, isn't it too dangerous for you to come here now?" The adjutant asked with a worried look on his face. His name is Lin Fei, he was born in a civilian family in the Far East, and he was an old companion that Hildebrand brought to the expeditionary force from the Spartan Warriors.

Hildebrand laughed and said, "Don't worry, it's not that easy to hurt me. ”

"But......" Lin Fei stopped talking.

"Ah Fei, the reason why we have been able to come this far today and become a glorious Knight of the Dawn is all because of the support of our brothers." Hildebrand put his arm on the adjutant's shoulder and said, "We can't ignore our brother who is still struggling in the water just because we're on the shore, don't you say?" ”

Although Hilbrand was born in a small aristocracy, his father was only an old military officer, and he was honest and honest all his life, except for being full of injuries, he did not save much savings. When the Spartan Warriors were founded, he could be said to be poor and white. In the case of serious lack of funds and backward equipment, their group of people actually carved out a piece of the world and entered the field of vision of the upper class, thus gaining the appreciation of the temple princess. The sweat, blood and tears in it are by no means something that can be described in a few words.

However, in the Spartan Warriors, only three people were eligible to join the Dawn Expeditionary Force and become Templars. This time, Hilbrand applied to come to the Aurora plane to participate in the war, on the one hand, he wanted to make a contribution, achieve greater results, and add a luster to his old father; On the other hand, I want to use the power in my hands to take care of my old friends.

"Hmm." Lin Fei nodded vigorously.

"Have they all arrived?" Hildebrand asked again.

"It's all here, at the place where the mercenary group is stationed." Lin Fei replied.

"Let them stay safe, try not to cause trouble, and wait patiently for my news."

"Yes!" Lin Fei snapped, stood up straight, and gave a military salute.

A few days later......

The cold aurora light shone on the snow, staining the whole world with a pale blue. From time to time, a cold wind blows, rolling up the fine ice slag and erasing all traces. Climbing over a snowy hill, you can see the endless tents below, like a dark green sea. Soldiers walked through it in twos and threes, and the occasional shout or two broke the silence of the snowfield.

Snowflakes were raised in the distance, as if a convoy was coming. The patrolling soldier only glanced at it and continued on his way, not paying much attention.

Moments later, a convoy of sandmobiles, locomotives and two container trucks slowly drove into the camp.

The Black Pig King jumped out of the car and stepped into a dark red tent painted with the words "Dark Jungle Garrison Seventh Brigade". The Military Command of the World Council has drawn a large number of garrisons from the Dark Jungle to maintain internal management during the war.

A bespectacled officer took the information handed by the Black Pig King, looked at it carefully for a while, and asked, "Are you a mercenary group of worms?" ”

"Yes." The Black Pig King replied with a blank face.

"This is the theater of operations for the expeditionary force." The officer reminded.

"We know." "Then you still ......" "It's legal for us to come here."

"Well, good luck guys." After saying that, the bespectacled officer stamped the application form, then pointed to the west and said, "Go find a place over there." Then he added, "The camp of the expeditionary force is to the east, so in order to avoid misunderstanding, you had better not go there." ”

"Thank you." The Black Pig King took the form, went out and got into the car, and went straight to the west.

Half an hour later, Iron Slag chose a lowland with his back against the snow mounds and began to set up camp. The perimeter was covered with crossed angles, then barbed wire, then vehicles, single tents and command tents.

Once settled, Iron Slag put on the Wilderness Knight in the assembly room and drove the locomotive alone in the direction of the River Styx. The fine Xiaoice slag pounced on the shell of the locomotive and power armor, making a slight rustling sound.

Twenty minutes later, there was a sound of water ahead. It didn't take long for a great river to appear in view, as if flowing out of the sky and flowing away from the sky. The sound of the water was deafening, and before I got close, I could already feel the turbulence of the water.

Iron slag got out of the car by the river, and when I looked up, the river was like a million galloping horses, chasing after me, slapping high waves, surging forward. The wind whistled and blew hair. Layers of water vapor hit the face, with a hint of comfort in the coldness, which made people feel proud and couldn't help but want to shout loudly.

As far as the eye can see, the river is vast, and the other bank cannot be seen. According to the information he had seen, the Aurora Styx was extremely wide, hundreds of kilometers wide and twenty or thirty kilometers narrow, and the river was not only turbulent, but also bottomless, making it impossible to build ordinary bridges.

Suspended bridges can only be made from a large number of floating stones. However, due to the high cost and easy target of the enemy, before the end of the war, the river could only be crossed by aircraft.

However, a power armor warrior like Iron Slag can fly directly over. I saw him slap off his helmet, ignite the power furnace, and slammed it, with a "raging" sound, spewing out two crimson flames. Turning into a meteor, it flew quickly to the opposite bank against the surface of the river. Everywhere you go, the water splashes into the sky, several meters high.

Two minutes later, the iron slag landed on the shore, and when I looked at the value on the protective glass cover, I saw that there was 75 percent fuel left.

He observed for a while, but saw no sign of the Elta, and was about to turn away, only to notice a slight movement in the snow a few meters away.

Where the eye locked, a translucent round frame appeared on the protective glass cover, which was slowly moving, and a line of small words gradually appeared in front of him.

[Demon Scout Bee]

The iron slag took a tentative step forward, and the round frame immediately jumped rapidly. He immediately raised his arm and pulled the trigger.

"Bang!" The muzzle of the double-barreled gun erupted in a burst of fire, and hundreds of crimson steel balls shot into the fan-shaped area ahead.

A palm-sized bee fell in response, emitting green smoke, and struggled desperately on the snow. Iron Slag stepped forward and observed for a moment, its body was swollen, its head had three pairs of eyes, and when it struggled, it spewed out a large amount of bright red liquid, like human blood.

When I first saw it, it was white all over, just like snow, so it was hard to notice. But as it struggles, it gradually turns yellow and black, in circles, very similar to wasps, and seems to have the ability to camouflage and change color. This is one of the detection methods of the demons, and the wizards among them will domesticate various insects to help them detect or attack, and even send messages from a distance.

There are two main types of spellcasters among the Elta, one is called the sorcerer, who can draw various god-given totems, can use primitive herbology for healing, can also domesticate insects, and seems to be able to carry out some kind of mysterious, long-distance perception. Those who are proficient in totem drawing are called "great witches"; Those who are proficient in herbal medicine are called "witch doctors"; Those who are proficient in domesticating insects are called "insect witches". They usually distinguish their identities by their robes, such as the wizard who was found by the Hammer of Forge back then, who wore a fine, tattered robe of floral cloth, and was the lowest-level "wizard in the robe".

The other is called "sorcerers", who can convert the spiritual energy in their body into magical energy and release energy waves with offensive or defensive or support abilities in a specific way. The most common are mental disturbance, energy shelter, bloodthirsty fanaticism, magical missiles, and so on.

Spellcasters are extremely rare in number and rarely appear on the battlefield. It is said that only the Elta of noble blood can practice, and that magical energy can have a great effect on their minds, and if they are overused, they can easily fall into madness.

On a macro level, magic energy belongs to another branch of psionic energy. The name of the demon race is derived from this. However, the Sanctuary powerhouses among the Elta people generally regard the magic energy as a flood beast. Only those who have no hope of advancing to the Sacred Realm in their lifetime, or who are born crazy, but have enough talent to cultivate.