Chapter 257 Daha
"I am also a warrior! My grandfather is a Cosa! I inherited his axe!" The young man who was brought by the civil officer was dissatisfied with Boye's implicit contempt, and even showed his not-so-glorious birth to Boye.
Coza are tribesmen whose crimes were pardoned by the Tsar. Some tribes that once committed crimes against Kislev but have come to their senses will join the Coza Legion, use violent battles to wash away past humiliations, and gain the qualifications to return to civilization. The same is true for some Kislev criminals with lighter crimes.
Every Cosa is a full-time soldier, a desperado who dares to fight to the death. If it were not for the lack of order, they would be able to compete with the provincial legions of the empire.
But the boyars never summoned them in non-war times, and if the number of Cossa executions for killing and raping civilians was recorded, each boyar could come up with a number that would embarrass the Tsar.
“My boya, please abandon your mercy, if we don’t seek help from Erengrad or the Daha sect, we will never be able to win.
Zoshank will be destroyed, these young men will be slaughtered by the Norscans, and our women will be carried off.
Regardless of whether they have been on the battlefield or not, every Kislevite is qualified to fight, and this is our last chance."
Civil officer Andre lay on the ground like a dying wild dog, his short, carefully groomed beard soaked in blood at the corners of his mouth, but he still insisted on speaking the whole story in a calm voice.
The big boy from the north of Western State looked down at the officials squirming in the mud, and there was a kind of suppressed anger in his sharp eyes.
"My friend, this is the last time I will address you as such."
Rivechboye pursed his lips, used his gaze to drive away the people who wanted to join in the fun, drove away the soldiers who came over with concern, and the young man who wanted to prove himself, and continued to pour out his heartfelt words to his former comrades.
"Haven't you ever been to the battlefield? I'm sure you'll remember the howling of the Norscans and the winter wolves. You almost peed your pants at that time!
Look at them, Andrei, look at them in Ersun's arms."
The lord pointed at the young men who came and went in a hurry. No boyar would question the bravery of his people. Once the call-up bell was sounded, as long as the big boyar raised his arm, all those who could hold a weapon would respond.
But they were not Cossa warriors, nor were they Ugol warriors. In front of the Norse raiders, they were not even as good as three thousand pigs.
"I will not let them participate in a battle where they will surely die. Zoshenk can fall, the Polyansky family can die out, and if the next generation of Kislev is gone, then everything will be gone."
Levich's bloodshot eyes gradually dimmed, losing their former sharpness.
Boyer held his sword against Andre, forcing the minister who wanted to defend himself to swallow his sweet words wisely.
Zoshenk's Winged Hussars galloped past Boye's side, their whistling wings washing the cold wind, stirring up layers of echoes.
More than 300 Winged Hussars were Zoshenk’s last pride.
The regular soldiers under Rivechboya were all winged cavalry, although most of the time they did not ride on pure-blooded war horses, but only stood guard in the city wall towers and maintained order in the streets and alleys of Zoshenk.
The terrifying sound of the cavalry passing by reminded Rivet of the great battle twenty years ago, when his father had led more than a thousand Winged Hussars of Zoshenk to charge towards the iron torrent of Chaos Warriors. Rivet was the flag bearer of that battle.
It was a terrible defeat. The first batch of lances that stabbed at the enemy were all broken in the collision. No one could knock down the Chaos warriors who were as burly as trolls. He watched his father, who was usually omnipotent, being dragged off his horse like a chicken by the demon warriors and his head chopped off.
The bodies of humans and horses were piled up on the prairie, and the dark war cries echoed in the wind for a long time.
That was also the last time that Rivet showed any fear.
However, there wouldn't be too many Chaos Warriors in an ordinary Kazaka invasion. Large groups of Chaos Warriors only existed in epic legends. The battle twenty years ago might have been the last horror that Levic had ever seen in his life.
"Look, Andre, listen to the sound of the wind, look at those majestic wings, don't they look like an army of high elves?"
Boyer joked to himself, withdrew the sword pointed at the civil official, and took back the power given to him.
Rivet, the "Bear of the North," barked orders to his soldiers to prepare for the impending invasion.
"Call the Ugor archers! Call the Cossack Legion!"
"Inform the other boyars that Zoshank needs help."
Boye hesitated for a moment, but ultimately did not order the cavalry to unite with the Daha sect.
That would be treason, and Bloody Katrin would not provide soldiers to the North for Kazaka's invasion, but if Boyer dared to get involved with a sect that disobeyed the Tsar, it would only take a few days for Zoshenk to be razed to the ground by the Tsar's soldiers.
But Boyer prepared a final order if the first line of defense in the Western State fell and Zoschenk's corps was defeated.
His people would flee to the settlement of Mirkavara and seek refuge in the temple of Daha.
Perhaps the Tsar had abandoned the North and even regarded it as a secret enemy.
The "God of Fire" Daha will never abandon the Kislevites. It is he who brings the fire from the sun that can resist the cold wind.
In Mirkavala, the fire keepers gathered in the temple, looking in despair at the dying eternal flame in the center of the crowd.
They tried everything, from week-long prayers to animal sacrifices, but could not get the eternal flame to burn again.
It even lost its warmth, leaving only brightness.
Before the Great Crusade, it was as bright as the sun.
But now, it is like a dim candlelight, slowly dying in the darkness.
Perhaps Daha has already fallen, and even the flame he left behind may not last long.
Another invasion of Khazakar sounded the alarm for the priests, and ominous clouds shrouded the land of Kislev.
The crazy usurper of Kislev not only suppressed the followers of the "God of Fire" and the "God of Thunder", but she was even crazy enough to dare to fight against Ursun.
Sergei, the "cornerstone of the kingdom", was assassinated, and it was the priest of Ersun who saved the respected old minister, but such a righteous act was defined as "treason" by the Tsar.
The immediate rescue of the Ersun priests was distorted by people with ulterior motives as a pre-planned collusion, and the already oppressed Ersun state religion was reduced to a "treasonous" cult.
A large number of Ersun priests were imprisoned in dungeons. Now, the only faith in the city of Kislev is the "Tsar".
The Fire Keepers had no idea what the southern boyars were thinking. Bloody Catherine was clearly unworthy of sitting on the throne, but the entire southern Kislev knelt loyally before the bloody Tsar.
This made the patriots who truly cared about Kislev lose the idea of resistance. In today's precarious situation, a rebellion would completely burn Kislev to the ground.
Dead bodies were hanged at the gate of the royal city every day. They were either powerful nobles in the past or assassins sent to kill the Tsar.
The Daha sect has declined, and the Thor cult has gradually been replaced by the beliefs of the Southern Empire. Perhaps after this Kazaka invasion, the Fire Keeper will disappear completely.
The followers of the "God of Fire" can only look forward to the awakening of Ersun. In this long night, the people of this land need gods.
(End of this chapter)
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