Tandra Empes was in a good mood today, and there was nothing more pleasant for the commander of the Kingdom Guard than the victory of a war. Of course, there was also an unexpected small flaw that made him faintly worried, or angry.

"These damn bastards actually wounded Cyrian!Unforgivable, this is an unforgivable sin!" Tandra cursed in his heart at the "infidels" of Sardinia.

Because Duke Junhe was one of the few close friends of the hot-tempered commander, and the two were knighted as knights of order at the same time, Tandra rushed to the scene when the herald told him that Sirian had woken up and invited him to the council.

Picking up the cotton door of the tent, Tandra bent down his burly body and quickly walked in. The ensuing light made his eyes a little uncomfortable, but it wasn't enough to stop his loud voice. "Hey, Sirian, there's nothing wrong with your injuries, is there?"

"It's nothing, it's just small injuries that don't matter. Cyrian saw Tandra walking into the tent, and replied with a pretended lightheartedness.

Tandra walked quickly to Cyrian and carefully checked the state of his old friend, and found that there was nothing unusual except for a somewhat haggard look, so he relieved himself, and then said indignantly: "It's okay! If anything happens to you, I'll cut off the heads of those heretics!"

Sirian patted Tandra on the shoulder, deeply touched by the concern from his old friend.

"Ahem......" An inopportune cough came from a corner of the tent.

Tandra then realized that Maurice Harker, the chief secretary of the army, was also here, and he had just been in a hurry and hadn't noticed it.

Obviously, Morris frowned at Tandra's unscrupulous rhetoric, after all, threatening to slaughter prisoners was not a desirable thing to do, so he reminded him out loud.

"Oh, honorable clerk, when did you arrive? Don't write what you just said in the marching notes, just angry words, don't take them seriously. Although Tandra was a little surprised as to why the clerk was here, he didn't think much about it.

"For the sake of the Lord God, how many times has this been?" ...... my lord," Maurice smiled wryly and spread his hands, he really couldn't do anything better than the raunchy commander of the kingdom's guards.

Seeing that the two invited had arrived, Sirian knocked lightly on the table and said with a serious expression: "Since both of them have arrived, we can also start." The following conversation is for Lord Morris to record and submit to the Kingdom Historian upon his return to the capital. ”

"Yes, sir. Morris replied quickly, and opened the book of marching notes he had with him at all times.

Tandra was stunned for a moment, obviously not expecting that this was not an ordinary meeting, so he immediately became serious and listened attentively.

"It's urgent, I have to get back to Silver Oak City as quickly as possible. Sirian said thoughtfully, not wanting to tell the two in front of him about the contents of the secret letter, at least not yet.

Morris paused at the tip of his pen, but quickly continued writing.

"It's ......happening," Tandra paused, and although he was an easily angry war machine, it didn't mean anything wrong with his acuity. After all, for such a hot position as the commander of the Kingdom Guard, if his mind is not clear enough, there is absolutely no possibility of not falling for more than ten years in office, or even doing it like a fish in water.

"After my departure, the supreme command of the Orem Legion will be represented by the Commander of the Kingdom Guard, Count Tandra Empes, and will hold the Orem Legion Scepter. With that, Cyrian pulled out a dark brown wooden box from the drawer, and when he opened it, he revealed a milky white wooden scepter carved with a spiral pattern. The head of the staff is inlaid with a dazzling purple phosphorus gemstone, which reveals layers of flame-like halos under the illumination of the light, and a line of words is engraved on the handle of the staff - "Order of the Legion".

When Tandra heard Sirian's words, he immediately knelt down on one knee, drew his long sword, stood in front of him, and said in a strong voice: "In the name of Somu, the Lord God of Order, the will of Orem is the direction of my sword, and glory will be to my king!" Then he solemnly took the legion's scepter and lightly touched his forehead.

"After the aftermath is over, please march to the city of Sardinia to rest, and no nobleman, no army, nor any prisoner shall be allowed to leave the city of Sardinia until the king's decree is received, and anyone who dares to disobey the order shall be punished for treason. Sirian said in a deep voice.

"Yes, Lord Duke. Tandra nodded emphatically.

Morris recorded quickly, and for a moment the atmosphere in the tent was solemn to the extreme, except for the rustle of the tip of the pen against the paper.

When Morris finished writing, the three men signed their respective accounts of the march. Sirian looked at his old friend and said, "I hope you understand what I mean." Also, before arriving in Sardinia, do not tell anyone that I have returned to the capital, I will leave behind my subordinates from the river, and Karl will refuse all visits on the pretext that I have not recovered from my serious injuries. ”

Tandra's brow furrowed, and he smelled an unsettling smell. Obviously, something big had happened in the capital, and an unspeakable emotion permeated his heart.

Maurice and Tandra didn't stop long and soon left. For both of them, tonight was destined to be a sleepless night.

Cyrian sat quietly in his chair, his brown eyes fixed on the secret letter on the table, his large, strong hands slowly rubbing against the shiny armrests.

"His Majesty the King has died, return quickly. Donis. ”

The meaning on the paper and the undercurrent behind it made Duke Junhe hesitate a little, or puzzled. Obviously, the news of His Majesty's death has not yet been made public, as there is nothing unusual about the writing coming from Oak City these days.

"Could it be that Donis has learned of His Majesty's death and is preparing to rebel?, or is Donis afraid to confirm the accuracy of the news, and he is waiting in silence?" Cyrian pondered with some irritation, "In any case, it doesn't make sense. The Knights of the Heart of Frostwood of Donis were also recruited to participate in the counterinsurgency. Even if the whole regiment did not go with the army, it would be impossible for Donis, who was in the capital, to organize an armed force of more than 500 men. ”

"Could it be that Donis's hole cards are so strong that Aiden does not dare to make the news of His Majesty's death public?

Either way, Sirian knew that he had to rush back to Silver Oak City before the regular Imperial Council in three days' time, because nothing would be hidden by then.

In other words, it is hoped that the remnants of His Majesty's reign of more than 60 years will be able to deter Nice from breaking out in these three days. After all, until the news of His Majesty's death is confirmed, no one dares to challenge Mahers's prestige in the Olem Kingdom head-on, not anyone.

............

The all-night revelry finally stopped its frenzied footsteps after midnight, and apart from the occasional sporadic drunken scolding, the entire barracks were left with unquenched bonfires, dismal barrels of meat, and drunken unconscious soldiers. Of course, the night patrol and the troops guarding the prisoners were not among them, and to be honest, they had long been accustomed to the days when others celebrated their duty and others slept on their own patrols.

In such a drunken night, an abrupt black shadow nimbly shuttled between the camps. Obviously, the owner of the Black Shadow is a master and is also very familiar with the layout of the barracks. He hid his figure in the shadows that obscured each other, carefully avoiding the night guards who were about to discover him, the flickering torches seemed to him as nothing, and the Lord God was above, and I was afraid that the elven rangers of the forest at the beginning of the month might not do better than him.

Soon, the shadow found the destination of the trip, the camp of the legion general, Lord Sirian, the Duke of Junhe. Bypassing the guards guarding the door, he crept behind the tent. A jet-black dull dagger appeared in his hand, and without any movement, the heavy tent cloth was silently cut into a slender opening. Then, the shadow vanished in place.

It was dark in the tent, except for the dim glow of the candlesticks on the long table. Carl, who was lying on the board of the outer room, snore soundly from time to time.

The dark shadow carefully bypassed the senior manager of the Duke of Junhe and gently touched the tent. Soon, he saw Cyrian lying on his side on the bed. Squinting slightly, the jet-black dagger tightened in his hand.

At this moment, Duke Junhe, who seemed to be asleep a moment ago, suddenly turned over and pulled out the long sword that was placed next to the pillow. As the strongest of the Knights of Order, Sirian had woken up when the Dark Shadow had infiltrated his tent. For a battle-hardened warrior, there was no reason why the sudden cold aura around him should not be noticed.

"Who!" Cyrian roared in a low voice. What caught my eye was a thin man lying on the ground, his whole body was pitch black and did not leak a little variegation, especially the pair of narrow eyes, which did not show even a trace of panic because of the leakage.

The infiltrator didn't reply, but flicked his hand, and the jet-black dagger shot out with a sharp sound of wind.

"Who told you to do this dastardly trick!" Cyrian gave up his defense and raised his sword to meet him.

Unexpectedly, before Sirian could take a strong step, a stabbing pain penetrated deep into the bone marrow in his chest. What was even more surprising was that the dagger was not aimed at Sirian, but flew straight towards the candlestick.

Cyrion's roar finally alarmed the guards at the gate and the sleeping Karl, and when they rushed in to protect the Duke of the River, they were greeted by a sudden darkness.

Soon, the candle was rekindled, and the infiltrator was gone.

"Lock down the barracks!Get that damn assassin out!" Karl shouted, his cheeks flushed with rage. The Assassin, an Assassin who touched the Duke's tent in front of the guards and himself, was a kind of naked humiliation.

"No need, just step down. Don't tell anyone about what just happened. Sirian waved his hand, stopping Karl from moving further.

Karl was stunned for a moment, but instinctively chose to obey and retreated with the guards.

Cyrian stood at the table, his jet-black dagger firmly in his gaze. Someone had brought him a second secret letter for the evening, but this time it was more straightforward - a squarely folded piece of paper was nailed to the table.

What's even more terrifying is that the stabbing pain in his chest makes him understand the effect of the blood mark that Soram made before he died.

The power of order that had accompanied him for decades could no longer be driven.