War has broken out! War has broken out! The black figure of the crow swept across the sky, and the leaves on the dry branches were knocked off by the cold wind. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

But people on the mainland don't seem to be worried, and the air is not full of tension. Because this is not the kind of war with millions of corpses and thousands of miles of red land. But...... The war between two native nobles in the countryside...... With their financial resources, the number of participants on both sides of this war can probably reach a few hundred, two hundred or three hundred?

But this is also war, and it will reap life mercilessly. Cruelty and blood, tyranny and horror, in the eyes of those who are forced to participate, do not diminish much because of the small scale. Of course, in the eyes of the lord who was carefully protected by armor and guards, because of the small scale, it lost some of the excitement.

"Bastard, I don't want to die!" a teenager muttered silently as he unconsciously kicked the pebbles off the road. "Damn, I really don't want to die!" Just a few days ago, the tragic situation of his loved one deepened his fear of death, but he had to go to the battle, because a serf like him could not disobey the will of the lord, and the noose on the gallows was shaking and waiting for the victim. Run away, think about the Lord's bloodhounds, I've heard that they eat better than the average freedman, and even have a pedigree certificate showing their noble origins. They weren't raised for nothing, and on more than one occasion, escaped serfs were found and brought back to the dungeons or sent to the gallows. Therefore, Martin can only go to the battle, after all, there is still some hope of surviving that way.

"Now that this is the case, it is better to think about how to prepare to make the hope of survival greater. Martin thought. Then he set out to make use of his limited resources. First of all, the equipment that was issued. What kind of thing is that, it's almost on par with goblin paraphernalia. A set of thick cloth armor stained with a pale color of blood, a short spear with a crooked twist, and a wooden shield with a concave surface are the equipment issued by the lord Kai Grace. In Martin's opinion, these things did not protect his life at all, and the poor quality could drag him to the grave. He walked to the warmonger with the things in his hand. Counting on those things for a couple of bucks.

The so-called warmongers are a group of people who follow the war to make a fortune, and they include blacksmiths, merchants, and even prostitutes and priests. These people deal in everything they do and provide services, but they are often disliked. The reason is simple - they make a fortune from the dead. Not only did they sell inferior equipment and shochu to their soldiers, but they also quietly looted the last belongings of the dead in the middle of the night, often in the middle of the night. But the soldiers in the army can't do without them, selling the loot and buying equipment, these transactions often have to go through their hands. And they can also provide all the entertainment a soldier wants. So, what was there to complain about the GIs? The boy silently threw his spear and thick cloth armor at him, and picked up the few pitiful silver coins he had thrown at him, and turned and walked home.

A dilapidated thatched hut, this is Martin's home. Martin was an orphan who was raised by his adoptive father. And just a few days ago, his adoptive father was hunting with the lord as a servant when he was killed in a fight between the lord and his neighbor over the ownership of a prey. The lord is at war with the neighboring lord because of this, but don't get me wrong, the lord is not angry because he killed and injured a few servants, the reason for the war is entirely because the deer was snatched away and he felt that he had lost face. "Hmph, just for a deer, for a deer! We're going to die!" Martin thought silently as he lay on the bed, his eyes looking at the roof. Soon, tears flowed from his eyes. Because he remembered that before that hunting trip, his kind adoptive father smiled and told him that he would replace the roof with a shingle when he returned. It was useless to shed tears, Martin quickly rolled over, picked up the rusty sword and dug in a corner of the house, and soon, he dug up a small wooden box. He took out the coins. There was only one gold coin and a few silver coins. But it was something Martin's adoptive father had accumulated over the years. Then, he put the money in his pocket and walked towards the warmongers again.

It's too dangerous to go to war in that suit of equipment issued by the lord. So he sold his short spear and thick cloth armor, and prepared to use his meager money to buy better equipment to improve his chances of survival. The little savings of the family, plus the little money that the lord gave for this war, and the money from the sale of equipment just now, add up to a total of 377 sails. He'd already gauged what to buy. When he arrived at the warmongers, he first gave the blacksmith the rusty sword that his adoptive father had taught him swordsmanship, hoping that it would be better to use after some beating. Then he walked over to the armor merchant and quickly picked out a piece of hard leather armor. He was tempted to buy an inlaid leather armor that was no less protective than hard leather armor, but far lighter and more comfortable than hard leather armor. But it was too expensive for him to afford, and the hard leather armor cost only 150 cels, and the inlaid leather armor cost 250 cels! After buying the leather armor, he bought a pair of short-waisted leather boots by the way, which were somewhat ill-fitting, and the strange smell and wornness undoubtedly reminded him that it was plucked from a dead man's feet! But it was much better than wearing wooden shoes to go to war. By the time he returned to the blacksmith, his sword had already been disposed of. Roasted over the fire, re-quenched, beaten, and sharpened with a whetstone, the sword is ready to go into battle. After Martin paid the blacksmith, the blacksmith smiled and said, "Although it has been processed by my hands, it is still not good for that kind of thing to go to war, you should buy a new one." Martin looked at the row of weapons behind him, looking eager, but after a few seconds he shook his head and refused.

"What are you kidding, I won't fight for that lord when I go to battle, I just need to save my life. Enough weapons are enough. Well, the shield should be on the side issued by the lord, it is enough. Now that the shields, armor, and weapons are all in place, only one last thing remains. Martin thought. "I can't afford a healing potion, but I'm trying to save my life. With that in mind, he walked towards the mercenary camp. "How about a drink?" he walked up to the priest hired by the lord and invited him, who looked at him with surprise as he raised his ass. "As long as you're in for a treat, of course it's fine!" replied the pastor. Then, after asking the priest to pour the seventh cup of cloudy ale, the priest promised him a wand for minor injuries for only 130 soles. The owner of the small hotel they went to was a friend of Martin's adoptive father. Because of the cheap game that Martin's adoptive father had provided for many years, the owner of the tavern waived the cost of this meal. This is how Martin makes full use of his meager resources to protect his life.

Everything that should be prepared is ready, the next thing is to wait, and after a few days, no matter how reluctant Martin is, he will still come. Martin set off with the army. Soon, they were approaching the battlefield, and people were putting on their armor and preparing for battle. It was a large army, led by the lord and his men, as well as the knights and knights' retinues who had sworn allegiance to the lord, and who formed the backbone of the army, though small in number. They rode tall horses, wore sturdy full-body plate armor or half-body plate armor, and wore sleeveless armor burqas made of linen on the outside, and their barrel helmets were decorated with flowing and soft feathers. The knights were not only dressed like this, but even the knights had small flags seven or eight inches wide waving in the wind on the tips of their spears, and the spurs made in the shape of gears to cherish the horses were also gilded. If it weren't for the imminent Great War, one would have watched with interest the handsome knights in high spirits, and the sight was indeed worth seeing: the horses were fierce, the handsome knights on them were like iron pillars, the spears were straight up, the tips of the spears glittered in the sun, and the small flags fluttered on the feathers of the knights' helmets. It's a pity that the war is approaching, and no one appreciates this magnificent scene.

Then there are the mercenaries, who will do anything as long as they are paid. But their combat effectiveness is definitely not to be underestimated. One of the only two priests in the army was a mercenary (the other was a lord who was a lord). Unlike lords and knights who wore full-body armor and half-body armor, the cavalry in these mercenaries often simply put a relatively complete double-layer lock drapery on their bodies, and occasionally a few people put a leather armor on the outside of the lock curtains. Those walkers often don't wear lock-up helmets and lock gloves. It's just a single-layer chain armor like a sweatshirt. This light outfit shows their fighting mentality. On the one hand, you can quickly chase and kill the enemy's deserters, and on the other hand, you can also run faster when you are a deserter. In addition, there are very few places in Deli that produce plate armor, and plate armor basically relies on imports, not for them to wear.

At the back of the pack were the hapless forcibly recruited militiamen, who were not the well-equipped and combat-ready yeoman warriors of ancient times. It was the age of the fiefdoms, and these poor serfs were dressed in thick cloth armor and armed with short spears and wooden shields. They are about to use this equipment to face the enemy's sharp weapons.

The battle soon began. The formation is completely different now than when it was on the march, the poor militia is on the front line, behind the mercenaries, and finally the knights. The trembling militiamen raised their small wooden shields in an attempt to block the enemy's arrows. Despite the small number of crossbowmen on both sides and their poor skills, each round of fire still caused some casualties to the poorly equipped militia. Martin shivered as he struggled to lift the wooden shield. The screams of being shot, the muffled sound of arrows hitting wooden shields, the swishing sound of feathered arrows flying, all made Martin's body tremble like leaves in the cold wind. He did nothing but raise his shield, but he felt powerless, not physically, but psychologically, a sense of powerlessness that arose from not being able to control his own destiny. The reactions of the surrounding militias were mixed. Some cowardly shrank their heads, some relied on the bad wine they poured to support their courage and yell, and more were numb, numb. The demeanor of a serf.

Soon, several rounds of arrows were fired, and the enemy launched a charge. It was a group of ragged militiamen who could barely call a charge, and there were fewer of them than their own. Seeing this, the people around Martin were so angry that they yelled and struck the wooden shield with their short spears, and then launched a charge as well.

Although it was no longer the barbarian warriors who were poorly equipped in the past, but who could bury tens of thousands of Norma troops in the Black Forest under the command of Herman, they were serfs who carried heavy burdens. But the bloody nature of the Tuoman nation is still there. The soldiers on both sides quickly collided and began to bleed each other quickly. A rusty short spear is just as lethal as long as it can pierce a human body. From time to time, there were miserable screams. In the chaos, many people were infected by the battle, screaming hysterically, waving their weapons vigorously, and there was only one thought left in their minds, kill, kill!

But Martin kept his composure, trying to protect himself as best he could, trying to dodge the enemy's attacks. His short stature helped, and the wooden shield and the people around him covered him well, otherwise he would probably have a few more blood holes in his body. But in battle, dodging was not an option, and a strong foe with a red-dyed beard and saliva splattered in his mouth took aim at him, and then stabbed a short spear with blood and minced flesh. Martin's mind suddenly became clear at this moment, and he raised his shield, turned sideways, and swung his sword in one go, and then he heard a scream. But the opponent did not flinch after eating a sword raw, and another spear stabbed him, and the brave nature of the Tuoman clan was undoubtedly revealed. Martin hastily raised his shield to resist. With a thud, the rudimentary wooden shield shattered. But at the same time, Martin had already sent the long sword into the throat of the enemy.

I killed someone, the voice came to Martin's head. But he was momentarily confused, and then shook his head sharply, driving distractions that had nothing to do with the battle out of his mind. The battle continues, and although the enemy has begun to rout, distraction is always dangerous. He quickly picked up his opponent's shield and continued to try to survive the fight.

Meanwhile, in the distance, a strangely dressed old man appeared with a trembling wooden stick. "Well, I guess I can find someone who needs it here. He muttered to himself, as if he hadn't taken the bloody battlefield to heart. Then he recited the incantation, and a huge triceratops appeared out of thin air, and he stroked the giant beast with satisfaction, then set up two halberds on the dragon's back and began to drive in the direction of the battlefield.

At the rear of the battlefield, seeing the rout of the enemy, the lord couldn't help but be hauled, "VENI, VIDI, VICI!" He shouted a high word, then slammed the spur and charged. The knights also launched a charge, ready to defeat the enemy in one fell swoop. But at this moment, the rout of the enemy strangely stopped. Moreover, the enemy added new soldiers from the rear, and several soldiers who had charged too fiercely were immediately stabbed down. Seeing such a strange situation, Martin and the people around him stopped one after another, and cautiously raised their shields to defend. A mercenary with a multi-handed sword tentatively attacked, severing several spearheads in quick succession. A group of enemies moved out of the way, as if they were afraid of him. Then, a fireball flew out of where the crowd had separated.

The fireball was small, only the size of a pea, but the mercenary, who was five big and three thick, changed his face and immediately climbed down. When he fell down, the mercenaries behind him also spotted the fireball and fell down in panic. But it was too late, and the fireball slammed into one of the mercenaries, and then burst open, accompanied by a low roar, a wave of heat and the smell of cooked meat. The strong man with the multi-handed sword scolded, glad that his eyes were sharp. Then, a crossbow bolt hit him in the head, and he fell to the ground with a muffled grunt. This is the battlefield, and luck will not always be with the warrior.

At this point, Lord Wolf was very satisfied, and he was glad that he had hired the mage, although the mage's hiring fee and the fireball scroll cost him a lot of money, but the role of the mage was obvious. The morale of the other side fell to the bottom almost all at once. However, the mage was nervous at the moment, although he was protected by a few good hands sent by Lord Wolff, but this was the battlefield, and he was just a small mage who had mastered the second-level arcane. He stared at the galloping cavalry, quickly preparing for the next spell.

"It's a mage! charge at him!" the lord roared as soon as the fireball exploded. He was, after all, a lord, not an ignorant farmer. Mages are powerful, but they can take their lives with swords. Again, the knights were not intimidated. With the sound of rumbling horses' hooves, a small but sturdy iron rider rushed towards the mage. At the same time, the experienced archers also fired deadly arrows in the direction of the mage.

It's just that none of this has worked, and the good hands sent by Lord Worf protect the mage tightly with a wide tower shield. The arrows struck the tower shield helplessly, but there was no chance to kiss the flesh. And just as the iron knight was charging at high speed, and the knights were excited to find that the distance from the mage had become almost palpable, a large patch of grease suddenly appeared on the ground. The knight, who had been heroic just a moment ago, immediately flew out with the mournful roar of the horses and rolled on the ground. The burqa was stained with mud, and the feathers on the helmet were scattered. Just as their rolling stopped, death came. Gardson, who acted as the mage's bodyguard, immediately led his men forward and accurately pierced the armor-piercing sword into the gaps in the armor of the dizzy knights.

The lord had better luck, because he wore thicker armor and armor for his horses. So left behind. Seeing what was ahead, he jerked the horseman to his feet, slowing his speed. So he escaped. But he was in a bad mood at this time. "I'm afraid I'm going to fail!" he thought. Then he heard the exclamation again. But this time, it was the armies of both sides that shouted at the same time.

It was a huge beast that caused the exclamation. When you see that hideous face, no one believes that it is actually a vegetarian. On the beast's back sat an old man, two halberds stretched out to the sides like wings. This team of combinations is firmly running towards the battlefield. "Retreat!" the mage shouted hoarsely. He knew that a druid capable of summoning a triceratops was not something he could resist. But a trembling hand stopped him, "Lord Wolf has paid for it! You can't run! Hurry up and get a guy like you did with the knights!" The mage snorted coldly and began to cast the spell, but the casting material he took out was not the butter just now, but a piece of dirty cloth. "A ghoul's touch should be able to deal with this martial artist. The mage thought to himself. He didn't think he could stand up to such a powerful spellcaster. All he had to do was run away quickly.

However, a vertical lightning bolt fell, stopping it all. The mage and his protector convulsed together and fell in black smoke. The old man on the back of the triceratops seemed to cast this powerful spell with ease. Then, thunder and lightning continued to fall. Took a lot of lives each time. At the same time, the old man commanded his mount and rushed into the crowd.

The impact of the triceratops was perfectly exerted at this moment, and from time to time some people flew out screaming, and some unlucky eggs were trampled flat by the huge dragon hooves. And the three dragon horns were already stained red with blood. Someone tried to stop the triceratops with a spear, but with a crackle, the spear split into two, one of which was stuck in the spear user's body. The old man was not idle. He was able to command the thunder and lightning to fall while operating the two halberds. All he did was adjust the angle and position of the axe blades on the halberd, and the high speed of the triceratops made the two halberds the deadliest weapons, reaping lives at a rapid pace.

At the same time, Martin was stunned to see the green light on his body, he knew the outcome of this battle from the moment the fireball exploded just now. He is unstoppable from the situation on the battlefield. So he simply lay down in the pile of dead people. It's just that the green light suddenly appeared on the old man when he arrived, and it immediately attracted the attention of the people around him, and it was clear that he was not a dead body. "If this is over, even if it is a victory, it will be dealt with by the lord for not fighting bravely. Desperate thoughts crossed his mind, so much so that he didn't notice a long knife that had slashed at him.

But the opponent's attack was bounced off by the green light. The blow alerted him, and he immediately plunged his sword into the chest of the astonished foe. There are times when you shouldn't think about the future. You can't pretend to be dead. He mustered up his spirits and fought again.

Now everyone could see that the old man was attacking Lord Worf's army. The morale of Martin's troops was immediately boosted. In their opinion, the old man was undoubtedly sent by the great god Odin to help them, and there were even knights who looked up at the sky and looked for those beautiful Valkyries. At the same time, the soldiers stopped their backward steps and turned to the charge. The opponent's formation has been dashed and scattered, and there is no power to stop their attack.

The triceratops had penetrated deep into Lord Wolff's army, and finally slowly stopped under countless flesh and blood obstacles. The frightened soldiers cautiously moved forward under the drive of the Overseer, and although they pointed their spears at the old man, the tip of the spear that shook as their arms shook fully revealed their inner thoughts. Facing the soldiers who surrounded him, the old man snorted disdainfully. Several arrows flew over, but they were all blown away by a curtain of invisible wind. After the old druid quickly completed a few movements, the furious flames roared and swept through, easily eliminating the soldiers in front of him.

The flames swept across an area of 200 cubits in length and width, and dozens of soldiers died in an instant. In the face of this blow, Lord Worf's army immediately collapsed. They threw away their weapons and shields and fled as fast as they could. At this moment, their long knives were indeed slashed at the deserters, but it was only because the Overseers were also fleeing, fighting for the road! The army on the other side was also shocked by this blow, and no one dared to pursue the army of Lord Wolff who was fleeing.

The old druid jumped off the back of the triceratops and walked straight to the glowing green Martin. He simply ignored the other people around him, as if they were just potatoes. At this moment, the lord walked over quickly, saluting respectfully, and the armor clicked. The old man just pointed at Martin and asked, "Is he your serf? "No problem! No problem! Thank you very much, Your Excellency!" Domon has been very helpful, and I have no thanks...... but the old man ignored his politeness, and walked straight to Martin. He only reached out and stroked it lightly, but the iron collar around Martin's neck, which marked his serfdom status, was immediately rusted loose and hollow, and then shattered into powder.

"Will you come with me and gain the power to control your own destiny?" the old man asked.

Is it to be the soldiers who have been reduced to ashes, or to be the one who can deliver that fatal blow with his hands?

But he didn't expect that in fact, he embarked on a very depressed path. In the days to come, he recalled that day countless times, and asked himself if he could have predicted the future, would he have made another choice.

However, he still felt that even if he knew the ups and downs in the future, he would still make the same choice in the first place.

The temptation to have the power to control your own destiny is too great......

Setting: About currency. There are many kinds of currencies on the mainland. Currencies that are widely circulated can be easily converted into the "Xaar" monetary system. The standard currency on the continent, 10 copper coins equal 1 silver coin. And the value of one silver coin is 1 cell. 100 silver coins equal to one gold coin. In addition to the Silver Coins worth 1 Cel, there are also Silver Coins worth 10 Cels, 20 Cels, and 50 Cels. However, wealthy people generally use gold coins as a unit of currency instead of Xal. 10 gold coins equals one platinum coin. Larger transactions may be made with precious stones or other precious metals or hard currency. In fact, on the mainland, hard currency is more valuable than coins. There are many types of currencies on the continent, and each race uses its own currency as well as its own currency, such as salt coins. There are also races that use some kind of shell as currency. In fact, 10 cels is equal to one gold coin in the average DND world. The value of one gold coin in this world is equal to one platinum coin in the normal DND world.