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When the other nobles heard this, they looked at each other with a ghostly mind, not knowing what kind of ghost they were thinking in their hearts. One of the Red Dragon-blooded ogre nobles with disgruntled arms and fiery scales was the first to speak: "Since it is so dangerous, Duke, you should temporarily withdraw from the army and let the royal family support the scene." If it really doesn't work, let's join forces with the great chieftain of the Centaur tribe of Metellus, and simply join forces with the royal army, completely defeat the royal family's power, and then we can justifiably use our noble council to take over the whole of Naintus. Hahahaha

Duke Vermeer secretly scolded this group of ignorant people who only knew what was in front of him, and then he suddenly knew the advantages of being a king - at least he did not need to spend a lot of time and energy to admonish and induce these unsightly nobles like himself, the so-called "president of the noble council". A true king with a ruling power only needs an order to compel these local nobles to bring troops to battle!

He sighed secretly, it was a pity that he was a "duke", and without the vigorous help of these nobles, he would not even have a chance to confront the royal family.

After praying, he calmed down and persuaded in a slightly better mood: "This can't be done." It's naturally a good thing that the royal family is finished. But don't you think it's strange that the Centaur tribe of Metellus has come to occupy the mines this time? Do you think these murderous fellows will treat us like royalty? Hehe, I think the first thing they have to do is to make all the people of Naintus, whether high or low, their slaves! And throw them into the cave every day, and die of exhaustion in the mine like a hopeless kobold!"

The nobles were frightened again when they heard this, although the royal family was hateful, but after all, they would not immediately turn their faces to themselves, after all, at the beginning of the founding of the country. The royal family had made an oath with the ancestors of the nobles to share the kingdom of Naintus. Centaurs don't have the slightest concern. Once defeated, it is like a dirt dog to kill or chop. So they changed their words and said, "Then we will only withdraw our troops and not attack the royal family." How about the royal family and the centaurs attacking each other?"

Duke Vermeer finally couldn't help but sneer: "We all volunteered when we came, and now we want to regret it. How can it be so easy? Moreover, once we withdraw from the army, our prestige in Naintus will be greatly damaged, and in the future, all talented people will defect to the royal family, and powerful businessmen will also tend to the royal family. I'm afraid that the bronze dragon veins who have long been dissatisfied will not be able to avoid it. The shadow dragon veins at both ends of the first rat will fall to the royal family. When the big rich businessmen and powerful people in the outside world see this, where will they fall? Not to mention anything else. If I hadn't had the upper hand in the fight with the royal family for the 500 acres of arable land, the local chambers of commerce under the Arcane Federation would not have asked me to buy and sell smuggling spell items. We want to preserve our strength. But they will lose more opportunities! If this goes on for a long time, what is the difference between them and those bandits in the mountains?" Seeing that the nobles hesitated again. Vermeer continued: "Now I have to carry out harassing attacks on the Centaur fortresses on the hill day and night, in batches, to force them to halt the construction and reinforcement of the fortress, and when the help of the Arcane Federation arrives, I will clear them like a flood of sand." Then the glory of the victory over the centaurs will go to our noble council. Capable men and foreign merchants will compete for their part. At that point, the royal family will be weakened. ”

The nobles were reluctant at any time, but they couldn't come up with a better way. So he was pulled by Vermel in the camp, and carefully discussed how to unite to interrupt the centaur land's stubborn strategy.

On the vast and bare gray-black barren mountain, under the vast canopy, there were three super bipedal wyverns, and under the strict protection of more than thirty dragon man warlocks, they hung several huge wooden boxes and slowly flew towards those small and shabby small fortresses on the mountainside. Hidden in these two or three stories tall and generously fortified by Zero Hour are the most elite warriors and warlocks of the Metellus tribe. Especially those warlocks, although their spell abilities are generally below the third order, they carry the products of the Three Towers Federation that they bought from the scorpions. It is also the key thing to guard these fortresses.

Now the most fatal thing is that the royal family of Naintus has sent several high priests of the gem dragon god, among which there is a crystal dragon vein ogre priest who has also reached the 8th level, if these high-level guys are not fatal with high-level equipment and lead the elite psionics to clear these fortresses one by one, then it is difficult to say the victory. Therefore, even the dragon man warlocks in the sky became cautious, and hurriedly led the three super bipedal wyverns to land on the top of a slightly wide fortress.

A thick large wooden box was opened, and it was supposed to be a centaur warrior coming out, but this time two Certunos centaur priests with 4th-order divine skills walked out first, and they swept around with stern expressions, and scanned the surrounding soldiers with "Piety Aura" and "Eliminate Stealth Enchantment", and then bowed respectfully to the big wooden box and said, "No anomaly was found for the time being, honorable Great Chief." ”

A burly and sturdy centaur like a buffalo stepped on the sound of powerful hooves, step by step and walked out firmly, as if the torrent of time was coming slowly but could not stop half a step! Under the bright sun, his Mithril armor covering his whole body reflected a dazzling light, as if carrying thousands of swords; The pictures of the flowers swayed like strange and noble living creatures of pure gold, giving the great chief of the Metellus tribe a kind of vigor.

And he was not wearing the garb of a king, but an ordinary priest's robe, but it was painted with the exclusive mark of the great chief, and the bloody pattern the size of a palm exuded an imposing majesty.

After being stuffed in the box for a long time, he finally took a deep breath of the cold breath of the desolate mountains, and erected the thick and heavy 9-foot spear in his hand, letting the sharp cold light on the spearhead shine into the pupils of each centaur, making the seventy or eighty centaurs tremble and inspire this elite warrior!

Then from the sumptuous helmet of pure gold came a firm and commanding loud voice: "Sons and grandsons of Metellus, now. History is slowly sliding under your feet! Whether you become the master of history or become the dust of history depends on how hard our horses' hooves are! The ancestors of the land of Metellus are watching you in the kingdom of God. The splendor of the god Sertunos is shining upon you in the kingdom of God! It is up to you to choose whether to turn the soul into the great Holy Spirit or to turn the soul into a lowly worm!"

Seventy or eighty centaurs all raised their spears and swords in unison, and shouted in their most heroic voices, "Follow in the Chief's footsteps." Attract the brilliance of the gods!The prestige of the Metellus tribe will forever resound throughout the land!" Then the news of the Great Chieftain's visit to the mine to fight wisely was immediately transmitted to a dozen or so other fortresses along with multiple teleportation techniques. Suddenly, all the fortresses shouted like thunder: "Follow in the footsteps of the chief, and let the prestige of the Metellus tribe resound throughout the land forever!"

This faint roar spread through the vast mountains, like the sound of excited wind, and the Great Chief wondered: Do they really understand what I mean? Hehe, no one understands! A few days ago they were vehemently opposing my plan, months ago they were fiercely allied with me with the Scorpion and the Three Towers, and years ago they were laughing at my fantasies. It didn't matter, because the god Setunos, who shook the sky and the earth, knew my mind perfectly. Yes, in the entire Metellus clan. Only the god Setunos knew my aspirations. Otherwise he wouldn't have told me that dream, that terrible dream!

His mind slowly returned to the haunting dream of years ago with the ethereal cheers. In that dream, no one believed, the vast green grassland was flooded with layers of green waves under the bright sky, and the wind was also dyed with a cheerful breath of life. Let him walk in this beautiful dream, his heart is intoxicated. He's gone, he's gone. Walking towards the endless horizon, there is still boundless green, as if it is an upside-down green sky, which makes people feel full of pride! He laughed heartily, like a child galloping across the vast green grassland, as if this was the kingdom of the gods of Setunos, with endless grasslands, endless fresh milk and tender meat. Suddenly he felt a little hungry, and then he suddenly found that there was not even a single cow or sheep around! there was nothing but green grass and a breeze! there was no sun or clouds, no birds or white clouds, and the earth under his feet was nothing but weeds that were dense like a layer of green waves, and all that was left was the soles of his feet—white bones!

Yes, it was white bones, the piercing snow-white bones of the forest! The terrible white bones were all over the ground! He was not standing on the grassland, but on the white bones of weeds! There were the bones of cows, sheep, horses, donkeys, even the bones of prairie rats, foxes, and wolves, the bones of life in the steppe!

He trembled, under the bright sunshine, on this lively green field, he kept trembling like a swing, his teeth chattered and he couldn't say a word, his thick legs and feet trembled violently and he didn't dare to move a single step, this is the kingdom of God? This is hell! It is the real hell of the steppe!

Suddenly he saw a sheep, or rather a terrible sheep skeleton in sheep's clothing! There was not a strand of wool on its ugly skin, but it was covered with large patches of shriveled and withered skin as terrible as corpse spots, and there was not a single eye on its strange head, and some maggots were crawling in and out of the terrible black hole of the eye sockets. And the most terrifying thing is its belly, the round belly is swollen, as if it is stuffed with green grass. And it is still gnawing at the "green grass" around it.

It lifted its terrifying erosion sockets, and from the dark hole of the dark sockets came a message of "Hunger, hunger, death, death, hunger, hunger!"

The Great Chief trembled in terror and trembled in rage, and slashed with a roar of his sword like the wind, and the sharp light of the sword flew like a storm crisscrossing the terrifying and shriveled sheep, as if all monsters flew up and caught them together.

But there was no blood, no screams, not even flesh on that terrible strange thing! More slimy and disgusting maggots flew out from the wound, and in an instant they rose one by one, and turned into a strange sheep standing in mid-air, skeletons and rotten skins, facing him with thousands of swarthy maggot eyes, like countless terrifying poisonous bees. Thousands of horrible messages came from the air—hunger, hunger, death, death, hunger, hunger, hunger, All life is starving!

The Great Chief screamed "Ah", and intuitively felt that his strong heart tempered by the wilderness was like a broken rock in the tide, and it was crushed by a thousand terrifying thoughts. He screamed and turned to run, running as fast as he could in his life! But the frightened sheep in mid-air were like a horde of life-seekers. Riding the rancid wind, chasing after him. Thousands of strange eyes relentlessly emitted a terrifying thought that devoured people's hearts like a tidal wave: Hunger, hunger, death, death, hunger!

The Great Chief ran and ran in endless fear, and suddenly the boundless green grassland in front of him had somehow turned into a dark area, and there was nothing to be seen, as if an endless abyss was across in front of him. And a grand thunderous soul-shaking sound exploded in his mind: the grassland road has come to an end!

The strange sheep chasing after them screamed "Hungry, hungry". It was as if a rancid tide had swept him into the dark abyss.

Then he woke up, trembling and breaking out in a cold sweat. He firmly remembered the last message - the road of the grassland had come to an end!

This must have been the revelation of the god Zenotus! In a panic, he immediately went to the other priests to verify it. But he was soon disappointed, and went from being a priest apprentice who could only rank 0 divine arts. None of the High Priests who had mastered the 7th-order divine arts in the clan had received similar divine revelations! They even looked at the Great Chief suspiciously and said, "The weather was very bad yesterday. Did you sleep cold? I said that it is not good to sleep on the ground, it is easy to brighten your stomach and catch a cold. You can pay attention to it next time. In desperation, he sent his cronies to the nearby Scolus tribe to investigate, but he did not hear anything similar. It seems that he is the only one in the world who knows that "the road of the grassland has come to an end". So he also began to wonder if the dream that night was a revelation or an ordinary nightmare. If it is a divine revelation, why not give even a little divine revelation to those high priests who have mastered the 7th and 8th order divine arts? If it is an ordinary nightmare, why is the always strong self shocked by round after round of soul shock in the dream?

He was bothered by this stern question for two months, and finally he figured it out - this was indeed a divine revelation! It was a divine revelation that Setunos had given to himself. For the other centaurs were always immersed in the traditions of the past, and they were proud of killing and plundering, and they liked to use the skulls of their enemies as wine glasses and gulp booze, they liked to remove the bloody skins of the enemy and hang them neatly one by one in their tents as the most glorious ornaments, they liked to drag their captives behind their horses and run around and sing while listening to the beautiful screams of the enemy, and they also liked to use the enemy as a tool for tug-of-war, one pulling the rope that tied the upper body of the enemy, and the other pulling the rope that tied the legs and feet of the enemy, and then engage in the most skillful tug-of-war - to see who can pull the enemy across the halfway line before they are cut in half.

They call it heroism, it is called pride, it is called glory, it is called glorious tradition. But the Great Chief himself was very bored, and he admitted that this "heroic spirit" that stimulates the brain is indeed stimulating. But, what have the centaurs left behind in these lands over the centuries in addition to these traditions?

So when he migrated with his tribe in the wilderness, occasionally seeing the ancient carved rocks about three stories high lying quietly on the open earth, he would always involuntarily come to these huge carved rocks to admire those abstract and bewildering patterns, symbols, and even a beautiful line. He always thinks that these things, which I don't know were carved tens of thousands of years ago, have survived the vicissitudes of time and survived to this day. But what about the centaur tribe? What can be left but the hoof prints of horses on the ground that have gone with the wind?

When the trees fall, there are still rotten trees, and when the grass falls, it can only turn to dust. I don't know how many "relics" of the Metellus tribe will be preserved in ten years, a hundred years, a thousand years? He doesn't know, he doesn't even know if a tribe of his size will survive until a hundred years from now - the war between centaurs for pasture and dominance is very tragic. Hundreds of thousands of tribes with hundreds of thousands of people will also disappear completely because of a war or a natural disaster.

This thought made him more and more uneasy, and he hoped to change this qiē: the historic centaur race should not be like a weed on the side of the road, and finally disappear without a trace! So he began to actively contact the vast world beyond the grassland, to learn about their complex organization and internal strife, to understand their history and grievances, to understand their development and decline, and he even asked a wealthy merchant of the Rosenfeld Chamber of Commerce to buy some miscellaneous history books. Trying to find a way to transform the centaur tribe.

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