When the dark red sun had just risen over the horizon of Attas, it was a new day for Tyre.

Thousands of tall buildings of yellow-gray adobe bricks rise from the ground, and onion-headed domes inlaid with gold leaf reflect the rising sun. Lower down there are all sorts of houses, shops and shacks. Some are elaborate and grandiose, while others are dilapidated and old, and the cluttered appendages are built on top of them in a disorderly manner. Almost all of the buildings have an old yellow, which is the color of sand.

A huge creature of more than half a million people awoke from its slumber, shouting, cursing, bargaining, and cursing gradually sounded, and more and more merchants, crooks, thieves, and craftsmen appeared in the early morning daylight. Filled every street and alley from the palace district to the inhuman racial quarter.

The tribesmen say that Tyre is a nest of kneeling people. Hundreds of thousands of lives of all ethnic groups are crowded together like ants in an anthill. Every day, countless people struggle to die, many more are born crying, and the painful life is day after day, with no end. The stench enveloped Tyre like a dark cloud over the land. The smell of feces, sweat, blood and corpses and carrion of hundreds of thousands of people mixed together to make people vomit.

However, for those who are used to living in the city, it can be considered a good home. At least, there are no robbers roaring in the desert, no terrifying desert monsters, no poisonous sand scorpions and mosquitoes.

Paying taxes is painful, but most of the time it doesn't mean that you can't survive. Tyre has three waterworks, enough to provide enough drinking water to sustain life for all its inhabitants. It is also home to the largest iron ore mine in all of Attas, and its high mortality rate ensures that it can provide enough jobs.

Even, in the eyes of some, Tyr can be called majestic and beautiful. Look at the huge walls that are tall and thick, and the walls are large enough to allow five people to ride side by side. Look at the splendid and ghostly buildings and statues, which are still majestic and moving after thousands of years. Look at the majestic and magnificent arena, where tens of thousands of people shout and shout every day, watching the bloodshed and killing.

Poets, aristocrats, and business magnates all gathered in Tyre and built their own lavish mansions. Just a few blocks away, however, are the nests of beggars and homeless people, whose houses are nothing more than roofed holes in the earth. Luxury and simplicity, cruelty and entertainment, pain and enjoyment...... All of these come together into one, which is Tyr.

The visitor looked at the city from above and smiled disdainfully.

The man wore a black scarf and a wide desert robe that concealed the scimitar and dagger he had hidden at his waist. He wore comfortable leather sandals and sat cross-legged on a wide flying magic carpet.

From the ground, the magic carpet is just a small black shadow, and it is impossible to notice the intricate patterns and exquisite weavers on it. However, the magic carpet was gradually descending, and his master drove it closer to one of the city's most magnificent palaces.

The palace guards watched in amazement as the magic carpet gradually descended, and the eyes exposed outside the viscarf cast a color of vigilance and vigilance. When the visitor landed on the ground, the guards swarmed him and surrounded him in the middle.

The black-headedly visitor looked contemptuously at the guards in a circle and the spectators beyond, snapped his fingers, and immediately frightened the guards back half a step. However, he just casually transformed the magic carpet into a cloak and draped it elegantly over his shoulders.

"Sue your master. The visitor loudly announced, "Sue him, the messenger of Ankara is coming!

There was a long delay in the rush of communication and reporting, during which the emissaries from Ankara looked at the guards of Tyre with the eyes of interrogating prisoners, observing, analyzing.

"Here, this way, please!" a guard officer in a white-peaked helmet came to lead the way, and he seemed a little reluctant to take on the task, "The Council of Tyre is looking forward to your visit!"

The messenger's right hand taps lightly on the handle of the scimitar and makes a gesture that you lead the way. Then he followed the guard officer into the magnificent palace, and behind him, a group of guards were still in shock, and talked about the experience just now.

The corridors of the palace are magnificent, but there are many traces of fire and battle. The walls were littered with dents left by arrowheads, and the precious frames were removed, leaving only a white mark on the wall. All of this fell into the eyes of the messenger.

Finally, the messenger was reached in the palace chamber, where the members of the Provisional Council of Tyre were waiting for him in a large hall with large floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Welcome, emissary of the king of Ankara. "Standing in the middle of the hall, among the councillors, was a beautiful and extraordinary female mage. Her long supple and shiny, close-fitting red mage robe perfectly complemented her delicate figure, and her ice-blue eyes revealed sadness, tiredness, confidence and inquiry. "We are waiting for your arrival. ”

"It's an honor to say that your Excellency is a young and promising lady who is known as the 'Coral Witch'. Seeing the beautiful woman nodding in acknowledgement, the messenger bowed his head slightly, "However, my lord has renounced the title of witch king. Now, he is the Sultan of Ankara, the heir to the Will of Fire!"

There was a flurry of heads in the crowd, "I have long known that the witch king of Ankara has a strange temper and walks alone. What did you call yourself Sultan, and what did you learn from this?"

Known as the Coral Witch, Shatiri tilted her head in contemplation, her mage's robes as bright as a flame, as if woven of silk and smooth. The opening reached deep into her chest, revealing her reverie-inducing collarbone, and a necklace encrusted with rubies as large as goose eggs hung around her neck...... Even her head is red, showing twelve points of vitality. Her skin was fair and smooth, flawless, like whipped cream. She is known as the Coral Witch because coral is a gemstone found only in ancient Athas. And she is like a jewel, born to be watched by men.

The messenger was a man, and he was no exception, and he looked at the beautiful woman in front of him, reminding himself that it was this man who had killed Karak, the witch king of Tyr. Although she is beautiful, she is a ** teacher, deadly, dangerous, and terrifying.

"I was waiting to listen to the Sultan of Ankara. Shatiri spoke, her tone friendly and seductive. Was it magic? or was it her original voice?

"Tyre will be destroyed!" the messenger shouted.

"And only my Lord can save you!" he wanted to take the lead.

Accusations, rebukes immediately rang out, and the parliamentarians lashed out at the impudence of the messengers like a flock of enraged roosters. Finally, it was Shatiri who raised her hand to signal them to be quiet.

"Explain your intimidation. Emissary. Shatiri calmly threatened, "Otherwise, I would consider it an offense." ”

"It's not a threat, my lady, it's a guarantee. The messenger shot back, "Yuric, the two witch kings of Nibennai have joined forces, and they are about to slant and roar against Tyre, greed, and endless violence!"

"Listen to me! Honorable ladies and wise lords, the Eurek-Neben coalition is as powerful as you think! Their warriors are so numerous that they can drink up an oasis if they stop and rest together! When they camp at night, the campfires are more dense than the stars in the sky! One of our spies went to find out the number of the coalition army, and he hid and counted them for three days and three nights, and finally fainted! They are at least a hundred times more than you!"

"What a great army, if they really have a hundred times the strength of Tyre, then they will consume a hundred times as much water and food. They will be starved to death by the desert sands, and what fear shall I have behind the walls?" said Shatiri.

"But you can't, do you? This time, the two Witch Kings decided to take matters into their own hands and destroy the walls of Tyre! It is said that with the help of your friends, you seized the most favorable moment to kill the Witch King of Karak. Head-to-head, you could be up against one witch king, let alone two?"

Shatiri was noncommittal for a long time before she said, "Then what can the Witch King of Ankara do to help me?

"He'll help you in another way. The messenger was full of words and said, "Nebenay and Eurek have invited our lord to join the coalition. But the city of Ankara is too far from the city of Tyre, and even if it wins, it will not take much advantage, and it will only cheapen the nearest city of Ulrik in Rityr. ”

"So my lord is not very willing to join the coalition, on the contrary, he is willing to cooperate with Tyr. Although he can't fight alongside you directly, he can threaten Yurik's rear, after all, Yurik is closer to Ankara. If the witch kings are restrained, they will not be able to attack the city with all their might!"

"So, ma'am, accept this friendship from Ankara. Otherwise, my lord will have no choice but to join the Witch King's coalition. The messenger glanced at the crowd, "Do you want one more enemy, or one more friend?"

"I heard about the witch ...... in Ankara That Sultan was greedy for money. A slightly obese MP stepped forward and asked, "How much does this 'friendship' of his ask for?"

"Five hundred thousand Tyr gold coins. Or an equivalent amount of silver, or iron ingots. The messenger said, "My lord does not accept clay coins." ”

"I disagree. "Don't say that we don't have so much gold, and even if we do, we can't exchange it for such an illusory promise." Your master has always been untrustworthy, and whoever gives him more money, he will help. I don't want to be betrayed after paying!"

"Is this Tyr's final reply?" the messenger asked. "Can you speak for Tyre?"

"She can. A strong councillor said that he was wearing a piece of armor that only covered his lower body, and that he was extremely muscular.

"She can't. A councillor dressed in an ornate robe said that his posture was graceful and light.

"That's it!" Shatiri raised her voice and glared at the richly robed parliamentarian, "bring my words back to the Sultan of Ankara." Sue him, come together, there is not much difference between three witch kings and two witch kings!"

The messenger bowed in regret and walked away without looking back.

"How can you do this!?" Waiting for the messenger to walk away, the ornate robe of parliamentarian questioned Shatiri. "You've ruined our last chance!"

"I've just snuffed out the last vestiges of your illusions, Ekis. "We have only one war, and the one in Ankara is doomed to betray." ”

"Say whatever you want. Akis was dissatisfied, he was a nobleman in Tyre, and he held the title of "Emir". He was also a psychic manipulator, a revolutionary who was dissatisfied with the tyranny of the Witch King. In the previous revolution, he assisted Shatiri in overthrowing Karak's rule. "We can't go on like this, the Executive Council is too inefficient. In the war years, we need someone to make decisions!"

"Can't wait to crown yourself so soon?" asked the muscular councillor, who was Ricas, a gladiator in Tyre who later became one of the leaders of the revolution.

"Well, don't be so tense. The slightly obese councillor said that he was the representative of the merchant family, Fuwad ibn Abbas, a wealthy and respected businessman, who had been elected by the people of Tyre. "I think Akis has a good idea, we really need a decision-maker. ”

"What?!" Rikas asked, shocked, "Have we just overthrown a tyrant and are about to carry another tyrant over us so soon?!"

"Quiet!" Shatiri commanded, "I agree with Akis, we need a decision-maker, I'm fed up with the bickering of the Governing Council. Either you obey me unconditionally from now on, or you choose another person and I obey him unconditionally. I'm about to die from this mess of trivialities, and I can't even guarantee spell research!"

"You ......" Rikas turned his head to look at Shatiri, a look of betrayal. "Do you want to be a witch king too?"

"No!" Shatiri glanced at Rikas angrily, "You stupid lizard, I just want to serve." ”

"And who of us is the decision-maker?" asked one of the lawmakers, "and in terms of merit, of course, it is Ms. Shatiri." But ......"

"I happen to have a solution that solves this problem perfectly. Fowad ibn Abbas said mysteriously.

"Tyre was standing for tens of thousands of years before Karak ruled Tyre, and the people of Tyre had a tradition that could help us solve the problems we were facing. ”

"What tradition?" asked Akis, curious, "from the ancient books?" and the other councillors waited curiously for Fovard to find out.

"The king election conference. He said.

"Elect the king?" repeated Akis.

"Elect the king!" many lawmakers suddenly realized.

"The king election conference ......" Rikas gritted his teeth.

My Chosen Queen's Assembly, Shatiri thought to herself, and took one last look in the direction in which the messenger had disappeared.

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