Chapter 341 Mercenaries
Bad battle reports were sent to Vlad one after another. His handsome appearance had been completely torn apart. His collapsed nose and festering face kept wriggling with rage.
He only knew that these younger generations were useless, but he didn't expect that they couldn't even deal with mortals.
Four hundred years ago, he would have reached Altdorf.
Of course, he does not have to fight for the throne at the moment, he just needs to advance to the territory of Kislev.
Foolish Nagash, he may be powerful enough, but he has no brains at all.
Without his remote command, Vlad has probably surrounded Middenheim by now.
But now Vlad had to rely on his great strength, and this was not a good time to go to war.
Vlad still remembers the empire more than 300 years ago. It was an era when heroes emerged in large numbers. The imperial general Hans Schiffen was a worthy opponent, and the grand mentor of the White Wolf Knights, Jericho Kugel, was also not to be underestimated.
He had died countless times in the war against the Empire. The last opponent he confronted was Archbishop William III of the Church of Sigmar. If the blood ring that maintained his immortality had not been stolen, he would have had the opportunity to send another hero to death with his own hands instead of perishing together with William III.
The powerful enemies of the past are no longer around, but new heroes have been brought forth by the waves of the times and they should not be underestimated.
Who would have thought that after Sigmar, there would be another Magnus? Judging from the current situation, his descendants can't even break through the blockade of the Empire.
Another group of bats flew to Lord Castain and reported the latest news in a chattering manner.
He was not even bothered to listen any more, just about who had encountered the Knights of the White Wolf, been clobbered by the hammer of Ulric's Chosen One, or that the Emperor's army was about to join the frontal battlefield and they could not hold on any longer.
What a bunch of trash.
"We found some lizards over there among the dwarves. They seem to be dogs of war."
"The rainforest dwellers of the South?" Vlad became interested. He had dealt with them thousands of years ago.
"Bring out all the golden tablets you have collected! Send an envoy to offer them a price and hire them to fight the Imperials.
We have more slates than the dwarves."
"Respected Vlad, there are also traces of rainforest natives in Ostermark."
"Imperial mercenaries? Let them name their price!"
“It doesn’t seem to be able to communicate.”
"Idiot! Let me teach you one last lesson. There won't be a next time!"
Did it do something wrong? On the riverside, in the shadowy forest, Lynch fiddled with the skull he had just smashed into pieces with some confusion.
He only heard this skeleton with abnormally powerful magic suddenly say in the ancient language of the Lizardmen that they wanted to buy some services from Lynch.
What service to buy? Requiem service? Lynch is already working hard on it.
He put this little episode behind him. The big city at the end of the long river was already faintly visible, and he was very close to Baker Harbor.
The sound of cannon fire was heard in the river; it seemed that the locals had transformed all the civilian vessels into makeshift gunboats.
Lynch keenly noticed the sounds of several artillery fire within a radius of 100 miles. It seemed that there were quite a few human troops stationed in this city, and they were still able to fight, but they were too scattered.
The most powerful firepower was found by the river, at the port of the city.
Before Lynch rushed into the city whose walls had collapsed, war roars reached his ears.
"Mor's scythe!"
It looks like there are some followers of the god Mor nearby, and they have just defeated the enemies.
They always like to call upon Mor after killing their enemies, so that the god of the dead will notice the newly deceased souls.
Everyone hopes that the dead soul will be successfully taken away by Mor, rather than walking into the devil's realm in ignorance.
Lynch quickly approached the source of the sound. The branches and leaves could not block his sight, and a group of humans soon appeared in his sight.
They were wearing black, hideous plate armor, but the armor was already badly damaged, and more than thirty people together could not put together a complete set of armor.
The feathers on the human's helmet were all soaked in blood, and more of the feathers could only be seen as being there before - only a few fragments were left.
Each warrior held a huge sword in his hand, and Lynch was reminded of the sword masters on the island of Ulthuan, or the executioners of Druzil.
Human two-handed swords are narrower and thinner than those of elves, probably because they are unable to wield weapons that are too heavy.
Many swordsmen wear the old Order of the Thorn Rose on their chests. Although the medal is already broken, the damage caused by the outside world has only highlighted this honor.
These medals, which seemed to have been passed down for who knows how many generations, allowed Lynch to confirm their identities.
There are not many swordsman groups that believe in Morr, and even fewer that are famous. The only ones who can receive the Styria Military Honor Medal are the Ostland Black Guards.
It is not uncommon for them to appear on the battlefield against the undead. If I remember correctly, this human organization has already branched out and its traces are all over the empire.
Cimi took out the wine jug, simply cleaned the blade, and then used the sharp edge to cut off the flesh on his waist that was torn by the zombie's poisonous claws, and then simply bandaged it.
It's very strange. Before, the blockade of the undead was continuous, but now there is not even a single zombie to be seen.
He signaled to the swordsmen to take a break, and while they were free, many of them threw their armor, which did not provide any protection, to the ground.
If it weren't for the fact that Ximili's arm guard was still useful, he would have given the armor that had served its purpose to the dust.
If we hadn't encountered those roaming blood knights, the situation wouldn't have been so bad.
He was far away from the location of the feint attack and could no longer hear the charge or gunfire from there. Only the occasional explosions in the night proved that the battle was still going on.
They couldn't even rest for too long. After finding that all his companions had recovered from their injuries, Simi decisively gave the order to continue the march.
The sacrifice cannot be in vain. The letter on his body must be sent to the outside world to let the electors and generals know the specific situation in Ostermark.
This is strategically crucial. If the Electors underestimate the strength of the vampires, it may result in heavy losses or miss key opportunities.
Your Majesty must know that the menacing undead are not as powerful as they appear.
Cimili didn't even know who gave the vampires the courage to start an all-out war.
If His Majesty knew the situation on the northern front, the internally empty Sylvania would have a chance to be completely purified. All Mor's followers would dream of the arrival of this day.
Suddenly, Cimi raised his hand and gestured to stop the activity. The well-trained swordsmen stood still almost at the same time, observing their surroundings vigilantly.
At first, only a faint light leaked out from the mottled shadows of the trees. When a gust of wind blew, a brighter light appeared in the rustling sound.
It was as if someone had built a fire in the forest, or as if someone had stolen the lighthouse at sea and dropped it in the great forest of Ostermark.
(End of this chapter)
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
