The rainy season, which lasted for more than four natural weeks, finally marched westward with the singing of wind and sand, forced by the increasingly dazzling sunlight like jewels and the untamable dry gale of majestic stallions, to retreat back to the shores of the Grand Duchy of Lucius, near the North Sea. Blowing from the northeast of Iceland, the winds were weakened by the Teutonic plains and chaotic wastelands, barely driving away the damp and fishy smell of the marine monsoon. At the same time, the wind mixed with the irritable earth and fine sand dissipated by the clouds that had accumulated in the sky, and the only thing left for the people of the rainy season was the foul-smelling black mud of the road.

When the scorching sun sprinkled the long-lost light on the earth, Pompeira, who had been shrouded in rain for more than a month, immediately became agitated. All able-bodied male civilians over four feet ten inches tall left their homes in sorrow, weeping, and violently pushing, and after giving up farming and work, they entered the barracks with a whispered prayer to the dragon god - the army of the Grand Duke of Longinus needed cannon fodder infantry and men. The soldiers of the loyal Grand Duke and the lord began to gather their weapons and prepare for battle, and the knights and nobles squandered their money bags in the taverns. Everyone was enjoying what little free time they had, except for the two bastards who were still in their cells.

It was a small, windowless stone house, where darkness was a long-lived regular, and musty smells were a wandering ghost. Smelly droplets of water dripped from the overhead floor, soaking the detainee's only worn linen sheets that could wrap around their bodies. Wet and cold from scalp to hair, Riga curled up on a broken bed in the middle of the house, trembling and whispering Hirag's name. Droplets of water hidden in the thick hair rolled down in the shaking, leaving a shiny and twisted path on the hunter's face like a snail's crawl. The water ran down the ravines around the eye sockets and nose, and was eventually inhaled by the long, dry and fluffy beard on the chin.

The Quaid still had a few bruises and scars on their faces, but the barbarians who had been forged into steel by the ice plains didn't care, even if the breaches had been breached with yellowish slime and whitened with droplets. And "the master of the castle of Goting, the knight blessed by the wind dragon, and the brightest starfall in the sky of Siron Yinus" was lying on another broken bed with a broken leg, covering the top of his head with a sackcloth. The two bastards don't forget to fight because they're in a cell, but it's a small, dark room, so the Quaid rely on brute force to completely restrain the nimble knight. Although the barbarians inevitably had some bruises on their bodies, Viscount Carol was now confined to a broken bed. I didn't even dare to moan too loudly. The nobleman's chest was as hot as if it had been burned with red iron, and it made even the knight, who could not sit up, suspect that his ribs had been cracked by a heavy fist.

The scorching rays of the sun cut through the clouds like a sword, and a few rays of sunlight leaked through the cracks in the cell doors, causing narrow markings to ripple in the small puddles on the stone floor. Riga was intrigued by the light spots in the water, so he got out of bed. After drying his hair with a linen sheet that smelled of musty straw, he walked to the tightly closed wooden door.

"There shouldn't be light on this. During the rainy season, clouds obscured the entire sky. Scooping a scoop of stinky water from a wooden barrel in the corner and swallowing it down his throat, the Quaid said in a hoarse, unhealthy voice.

"Maybe it's just a torch, and the food delivery guy should be here too. I could even feel the hunger in my stomach. The knight, with his head in the sheets, lifted a corner. Coughing softly, he replied weakly to the barbarian.

Perhaps to verify Viscount Carol's words, a sound of footsteps sounded from outside the cell, and then with the crisp impact of the metal key inserting into the lock, the thick cell door was pushed open by two jailers. A 'crackling' flamming torch reached in and stuck into the wall, only to be held in place by a thin circular ring before being released by the jailer.

"Sir, it's time for dinner. One of them, a middle-aged man with a dirty old round hat, walked in and whispered respectfully. He knew that the skinny guy was a nobleman, and the big barbarians were not easy to mess with, so he could only put the food on the ground in a low voice.

Barbarians and nobles had not yet recovered from the glare of the burning torches, and they had to adapt to being in the dark for a long time. So it took about a dozen breaths before Riga squinted and reached for food from the rippling reflection of the torch on the water. Pompeila's food was already in short supply to the point where the nobles could not bear it, so what the jailers gave to the two bastards was not very tasty, and even looked a little unappetizing. Two deep bowls contained enough oatmeal for one person, but the soaked and moldy grains were cooked by a bad cook to the point where they were as disgusting as pig food.

Picking up a bowl of food, Riga stirred it with a blackened wooden spoon and threw it on the ground in disbelief, causing most of the bowl of sticky oatmeal to be poured on the stone slab and mixed with the stinky pool. "Is this food for a warrior? I'd rather swallow a piece of stinky, sour goblin meat. ”

"This is food for the prisoners. Of course, you can leave it alone. After all, His Excellency's pardon has arrived. A familiar tone came from behind the two jailers, and the Quaid saw the warlock in the reflected glow of the torches. Still wearing the scarlet robe with gold threads, the caster without a hood reveals his long red hair and half a tattooed face in the shadows. With curiosity and mockery flashing in his pupils, the dragon enus warlock eventually waved his hand to the jailer to uncuff the two unlucky ones. "Platinum Dragon God bless, the rainy season has ended early. But war broke into the land instead of it. Every soldier can be the decisive force for victory, so His Excellency orders you to be free. ”

"The dragon god is above. "Hilage bless. ”

Watching the jailer unwrap the heavy, swarthy shackles with the key, the two freed bastards immediately prayed to the gods, even though the sour and sweaty smell nearly smoked them down. The Quaid shook his body and walked out of the low cell door, slamming his tall body against the rim of the door with a wailing sound before quickly following the warlock. Viscount Carol was much more miserable than the barbarians, and his chest was still aching, so much so that he had to be helped up by the jailers who were covered in the smell of sweat.

The air outside still carried uncomfortable moisture, but the glow of the sun made people feel warm and comfortable. Walking through the mottled passageway, the warlock eventually led the two to the prison gate. The thick wooden door, which had always been closed, was now wide open, because the criminals who were imprisoned in it were pardoned and swore to the battle in the name of the god of faith.

Riga and the staggering knight were the first to step out of the door, still wearing damp and musty coats, but the wounds on their faces had been washed and medicated. There are also doctors in the prisons - in fact, the god of medicine, Aklep is not uncommon, after all, magic or healing magic is too far away for the common people.

Riga was the first to see his companions coming to greet him, mainly because the Quaid warriors were so tall that Gar and the other three barbarians were as obvious as snow bears hiding in a herd of snow badgers. The knight also had several attendants who came to meet him. But they didn't expect the nobles to be beaten like this.

"Swear by the name of the platinum dragon god, barbarian. I'm going to beat you up and break your ribs. The knight, who was carried onto his horse by three or four attendants, shouted loudly, but there was no resentment or anger on his face.

"I await your challenge at any time, knight. Although you are barely considered strong. But no one can beat the warriors blessed by Hirag. Rega shook his hair and stepped onto the tall quick-striding horse in the bronze stirrups. Pull the reins hard and make it turn around in response.

The Quaid eventually kept the old camp, after all, no one wanted to switch places with the barbarians, and no one dared to force the occupation. It takes two prayers to ride from the cells in the inner city to the camp. And on this occasion, Riga also took a closer look at the situation in the city. It is bustling and prosperous, with towering spired houses on both sides of the wide avenue, painted with bright red fresh paint. Most of the people were dressed neatly in woolen coats or linen coats, but many were drunk, armed nobles and knights.

"It's a wonderful city, but it's also a huge amount of wealth. The hunter controlled the horse to move slowly, and finally couldn't help but let out a sigh. "The most obvious thing is that the people of Longinus can at least pay the full commission. ”

"But that's not what we think. Gal rubbed his head and asked the horse to speed up until it was in the same position as Rigga. "This is an area where nobles and merchants gather, and the commoner area is now in chaos. The people of Longinus now lack food, steel, and everything else they need, except for the damned, ubiquitous rain and black mud. ”

"Is it really that bad?" Riga immediately frowned. He doesn't care about these civilians and the outcome of the war. But commissions are the only thing that can't be less, otherwise it will be difficult for tribes who do not have enough wealth to obtain good things in trading with caravans, such as salt, bronze and even steel.

"At least for now. The price of food, livestock, and wine was high, so that quartermasters now provided only watered oats, barley, or rye every day. The bread baked by this thing always had a musty smell in it, and it tasted bitter and astringent. The other barbarian muttered dissatisfied. "We need meat and wine, not oatmeal like bad black bread or pig food. ”

The hunter soon saw the sin and ruin that lurked behind the opulent prosperity. After crossing three blocks, the Quaids rode into the alleys of the Civilian Quarter. There were no sewers that cost money, no guards in ornate armor walking around, and the Quaid could only see the dung and stinking mud floating in the waterplains, and the garbage everywhere on the roads. Flies and mosquitoes buzzed in the air, and the stench of rotting corpses made the barbarians cover their mouths and noses.

Skinny and dirty children running on the road. Shoes without shoes in the muddy water. The pedestrians on the side of the road radiated a hostile gaze, but immediately retracted their eyes when they saw the Quaid's swords and battle axes. This is the Civilian Quarter, a filthy place disliked by the sheriffs, but only when you get here can you discover the weakness of the city. The heavy taxes levied by the Grand Duke of Dragoninus for the war have crushed his people, and if this battlefield is not won, Dragoninus will become a word for the past, and the towering black towers will only become the spoils of the enemy.

The Grand Duke did not wait for the mud on the ground to dry and harden, and when there was only enough food to supply the army for six natural days, the army of Dragoninus and the private soldiers of the nobility set out from the city to the east. The Quaid were among them, but the mercenaries in chain mail and coats were hidden in the middle. Archduke Dragonus and his nobles expected to hide the barbarians and deal a fatal blow to the Harrison when it was most necessary.

This huge, impressive army numbered more than thirty thousand men, including three regular legions of three thousand men and half a legion of militia archers. The fertile land and large population of the Grand Duke's territory allowed the officers to recruit an astonishing number of militias, so that Dragonus also had a large spear infantry numbering more than 10,000 men. The only thing they were sure of was a low-quality wooden-roded spear, and the red uniform that would prove their identity was only half rationed.

The rainy season just ended makes people feel cheerful and comfortable, but when the boots are stained with mud, even the best of the honest people can feel irritable. In this way, the army of Dragoninus, in irritation and grumbling, marched twenty miles to reach the fiefdom of a viscount. The town's proximity to Pompeira made it a resting place for a large number of caravans, with grain, steel, precious stones, silk, and other precious goods being pulled by wagons until the Harrisons began to attack from the south. The invasion of the 'Blue Cattle' caused the merchants to change their paths in fear. From Middle-earth, Santa Marta passed through St. Valery, the Duchy of Andrew, then entered the Kingdom of Harrison and headed north to the Duchy of Moulton, passing through the Chelster Union to the Grand Duchy of Lucius. Although it would take a detour and pay more business taxes, it would be better than being robbed by a slain, red-eyed soldier.

The Grand Duke entered the depressed town to the cheers and guards of a band of vassals, where he enjoyed a delicious dinner, but at the same time received bad news: Harrisonian Rangers had been infested here two days earlier, and had shot and wounded two militiamen who had been guarded.

"Damn the beasts! The dragon god's wrath will burn them to ashes. A viscount who had arrived from the west of Pompeira roared, believing it to be an insult to Dragonus. But the Grand Duke did not express hatred or dissatisfaction with this, and he did not need to pay attention to the bedbugs flying everywhere. The army starved of food had only one option, and that was to find Harrison's main army as quickly as possible and defeat them.

ps: Let's start with a change, anyway, there are still 6,000 words tonight and by the end of tomorrow.