Chapter 207 57. The
forward army of the outrageous Nagol was led by Malus, equipped with a large number of cold lizard knights and a small number of dark riders. With the help of the Shadow of the Rock Clan, they found the beach in advance and crossed the river southward. Hagrid Grave's vanguard army.
Malus then decided to intercept Hagrid Grave's forward troops in a small clearing in the forest.
It went well at first.
The cavalry waiting for the ambush let out a low cheer after hearing the heavy footsteps on the road. They knew that Hagrid Grave's troops had arrived, and Malus also grinned mercilessly.
Soon the team launched a charge.
One hundred and fifty meters away, Malus saw a group of Hagrid Grave's cavalry stand out from the formation and begin to trot towards Malus' team.
The knight led by Hagrid Grave is a tall nobleman, wearing gorgeous black steel armor and a flowing sea dragon skin cloak. Malus thought it was probably someone like the cavalry commander, or even the commander of the forward army. He clenched his sword and made the powerful man his first target.
When he was a hundred meters away, Malus could clearly see the facial features of the powerful man opposite. He looks familiar, seems to be one of his father's former retinues?
When he was fifty meters away, the expression on the powerful man's face changed from one of triumphant viciousness to one of blank shock. His eyes met Malus's, and he suddenly recognized Malus in front of him. Let out a scream of surprise and anger.
"Killing time!" Malus responded with a bloodthirsty laugh, raising his sword high, the blade reflecting the fading light. He shouted loudly, and the cavalry behind him responded with a roar of war.
The cavalry from both sides collided and fought, and Malus also beheaded the powerful man in the chaos.
The battle soon became tense. The Druchi Civil War was like this. They were all trained by one master, one system, and one discipline. Without a sorceress, usually no one could break anyone else's tricks, and no one could do anything to anyone else. I can only cut him hard.
After fighting each other for a long time, both sides began to retreat after suffering heavy losses, and both sides believed that they had won this small-scale confrontation.
After the war, Malus's liaison officer returned from the rear and conveyed Ferland's order. The order mentioned that Ferland had decided to camp where he was and asked Malus to retreat with the vanguard and prepare to attack the enemy at dawn. Attack.
"Attack at dawn? Is he crazy? Did you tell him the enemy is crossing the Blackwater Crossing? We can force a march across and kill them with ease! By dawn they will be in a good defensive position ! Right here, most likely! And ready and waiting for us." Malus couldn't believe what he just heard, and started to roar loudly at the end.
"I explained the situation as clearly as I could, but he said these people needed rest and time to prepare. He, he said he needed time to think about his strategy." The young liaison officer looked at Malus with a pained expression.
"It's time for another barrel of wine!" Malus spat, and for a moment he was tempted to ignore Furlan's order. Marching toward the ford with his troops, but unaware of the enemy's size and disposition, he found himself easily outnumbered. He couldn't stay where he was, the enemy might arrive in the next few hours. He gritted his teeth in frustration, the damn bastard leaving him no choice.
"Retreat!"
-
Draka, the ruler of Hagrid Grave, was not wearing his proud armor at this time, but was wearing ordinary silk robes. His long black hair was tied back with delicate gold rings and fell over his shoulders. Although he was nearly six hundred years old, his face was still thin and childish, and his small eyes sparkled like agate fragments beneath his majestic brows. He and the dead Lehan were distant cousins, both inheriting their ancestors' sharp aristocratic noses and defiantly pointed chins.
It is said that Lehan fought in more battles than the hair on his head among the powerful houses of Hagrid Grave, but Draka killed far more men than Lehan did. For him, bleeding was as natural and necessary as breathing.
At this time, this ruler with a majestic and childish look was sitting in front of Dacus, while Maranur stood beside Dacus.
The night governor and the chief consul's retinue were waiting outside the conference room.
Darkus leaned back on the chair and clasped his arms, and looked at Draka with an indifferent expression without saying a word for a long time, as if he was looking at a dying person.
Draka looked at Darkus with a vague expression of anger. It had been a long time since any Druch had dared to look at him like this. If Darkus didn't have the status of Chief Consul, he would have given Darkus all his life. Good fruit to eat, but he quickly suppressed the anger in his heart.
"Dear Chief Consul, what is the purpose of your visit to Hagrid Grave this time?"
"To prepare for your coming to Ulthuan." After a long time, when Draka was getting impatient, Da Kewusi said slowly.
"Can you be more specific?"
"I've made it very clear! Don't you understand?"
"Am I in your plan?" Draka couldn't control his emotions. Put it on your thigh and clenched it into a fist.
"I have many plans, so if you don't want to die, you'd better find a way to convince me as soon as possible." Darkus, who was sitting opposite, heard the sound of Draka's bones making when he clenched his fist, and he sneered. After a sound, he said sinisterly.
"伱!" Draka couldn't control himself this time. He stood up from the table and pointed at Darkus.
"I'm sorry, I want to interrupt your anger first. First of all, you are talking to Darkus, the hand of the Witch King, not to Darkus, the descendant of the Hell Calamity family in Krakarond. Of course you can With the order, let the family guards in the dark room rush out, and then tell the outside world that the assassins of the Nagol assassinated me." Darkus raised his head and looked at Draka, and spread his hands in a calm tone.
Draka immediately regained his composure, sat down again, stared at Darkus and began to think.
Darkus took out the pipe from his arms unhurriedly, stood up, pulled the candlestick over and lit the tobacco. He didn't care about Draka's life or death at all. Although Draka was Hagrid Grave's night governor and a high-ranking presence in Druchi society, so what? He is still the Hand of the Witch King.
"Remind you, my routine is very standard." After a long time, the tobacco in the pipe had burned out, and Darkus took out the pocket watch on his belt and checked the time and said slowly.
"I can't understand why you are doing this!"
"You are wasting your time. I have just said it, and I will repeat it one last time now, for the sake of ruling Ulthuan!" "
I believe my army will win, There is no need for mediation at all! What do you want? Wealth? Slaves? Armor? Or weapons? I have all of these! I can give you as much as you want!"
Darkus put his left hand in front of his forehead and rubbed it vigorously Temple, he felt that tonight's conversation was a waste of time. This Draka was not honest at all. Could it be that he was too harsh? He suddenly understood that this was an old feudal lord. Maybe Draka's idea was not wrong?
"Let's change the topic first. You know the law. Anyone who tastes the forbidden fruit of Slaanesh must die!" Darkus said uncertainly. "You mean Isvar?"
"Are you also a follower of Slaanesh?" Darkus showed his harshness and bitterness vividly at this time.
Draka's fists clenched again.
Drukhi's society is one where the big fish eats the small fish, and the small fish eats the shrimp. Draka is now passive in front of Darkus. That is because Darkus is higher than him and can suppress him. He treats his subjects no better than Darkus treats him now.
"Although Isvar's actions are very secretive, I still have evidence of him." "I
would like to ask, how is your relationship with the eight powerful families?"
"Not very good. I have been suppressing them, but this time After the war..."
"Then Valahar needs to be replaced even more, maybe the Night Governor also needs to be replaced?" Darkus did not say this to Draka, but turned to look at Maranur said.
Maranur said nothing and nodded in agreement. He knew that he had no place to speak here. He could participate in this meeting only because he was Darkus's brother.
"Hand of the Witch King, please give me a chance. I promise you now that my service will satisfy you." Draka knew that Darkus was not threatening him, but was stating a fact that would make him satisfied. The bloodshed and death of Nightlord and Valahar would lead to blood feud with Malekith and even the entire Drukhi society, but Malekith was not within this scope, and now the hand of the Witch King was added to the mix.
"As an off-topic question, Governor Draka, are your subjects afraid of you? Or do they love you?" Darkus nodded. He felt that Draka would be a bit wise now, since he is so sensible. It can't be operated. Anyway, if Draka dies, Hagrid Grave's night governor will not be his person. He doesn't want to accept his fate. After all, he is only the hand of the Witch King. Then Draka will continue to stay. It's not impossible in his position.
"Fear!" Draka answered directly without thinking.
"What if you deprive the rich and powerful of their property at will?"
"Hate!"
"Then how to eliminate hatred?"
"Kill them all! This way the hatred will be eliminated!" Draka said decisively, with a ruthless look in his eyes. Spicy and vicious.
"My dear Lord Draka, it's time to rest. Wealth! Slaves! Armor! Weapons! Power! I have them all! I can give you more, more than you imagine! You can ask! As long as you can provide better services to His Majesty the Witch King!" Darkus said as he stood up and walked over, patted Draka's hard shoulder, lay down next to Draka's ear and put the two behind him He whispered something and then walked towards the door.
The guards waiting at the door gathered around and escorted the Darkus brothers back to rest.
Draka's retainers continued to wait outside the door. Draka, who was still in the room, could no longer control himself. He had not felt the Night Mother so close to him for a long time. He clenched his hand into a fist and slammed it on the table. The candlestick on the table tilted to the side because of the vibration. He ignored the tilted candlestick and walked out of the room quickly. He wanted to vent the anger in his heart!
Another unlucky person is going to be unlucky tonight, but it has nothing to do with Darkus. He has already returned to his residence.
"My brother, how did I behave just now?"
"It opened my eyes!" Maranur said while gesturing with his hands exaggeratedly. He paused, then shook his head in frustration and said, " I have been thinking just now, if I were Draka Night Governor, could I handle it better?" "
Rest, my brother, maybe I talked too much just now, and I have a headache now." Darkus said His head would feel really painful, and he would leave soon.
But Maranur was still stuck in place, staring blankly at Darkus's back, not knowing what he was thinking about.
——The
next day, Hagrid Grave's army appeared. They had all crossed the Blackwater Ferry before dawn. The footsteps of more than 10,000 infantrymen and giant beasts made the earth tremble. They were on the ridge of the mountain. The reverse slopes were arranged neatly, and the cavalry kept pushing back the small groups of scouts on the Nagol. They were waiting for the battle that was about to break out.
Darkus led a vast team and began to conduct an on-the-spot investigation in Hagrid Grave. There was no sunshine in this damn place, and there was still mist and thick smoke that never dissipated. There was not much to visit, but There is a different kind of beauty.
Of course, this beauty refers to the beauty after Hagrid Grave has experienced a small destruction and reconstruction in a few days and has lost many powerful people. Smelting iron and steel is too important, and it is too important to be controlled by those powerful people. This will further enhance the strength of those powerful people. It is purely to make trouble for themselves. Malekith will definitely give him a Taste the good fruit.
Darkus first went to the workshop belonging to the Night Governor family. There was no other reason than that it was close. As for the dark rock, he was not interested at the moment and would wait until it was destroyed.
Workshops were the primary place for making black steel armor and weapons in Druch society. These workshops usually consisted of a fixed building and some outdoor areas, including fires for burning wood and making charcoal, as well as for heating metal and Forging cauldron and hammer.
In the workshop, the iron ore is heated until it reaches a sufficient temperature and then forged with hammers or other tools to shape it into the desired shape and size.
It was very primitive, including water- or wind-driven machines, such as windmills, waterwheels, and milling machines. Dacus did not see any of them. He only saw the vast Druchi slave overseers, blacksmiths, and old-world people. The labor dispatch is constantly busy, and of course there are sporadic Druchi sorceresses and dwarf slaves.
Darkus did not go in. It was too hot inside, and the busy people were all topless. He stood at a relatively high place and looked inside. From time to time, he could hear screams, or slaves being beaten by Dulu. The sound of being whipped by a strange overseer, or the scream of molten metal being splashed onto the flesh due to improper operation.
"Where does the wood come from?" Darkus asked, looking down at the butler.
"Sir, it's usually harvested nearby or purchased from Krakalond."
"My Val! This craft is so trendy that it can produce black steel without even coking! Refractory bricks, heat storage chambers, coking, There are no blasting, washing, beneficiation, refining, or reverberatory furnace. How can this be done?" Darkus muttered in a low voice. He found that he was really looking for trouble for himself when he was idle. What counts here is Hagrid Grave is the best workshop, but the result is that there is no coking. Without a sufficient talent system and industrial foundation, this is a big deal. Moreover, this is just steelmaking, not counting the mineral processing in the front. There is still steel processing waiting for him later.
Darkus' original plan was to build an entire large-scale steel plant, the kind that was integrated and covered an area of hundreds of square kilometers. Of course, that was just a thought, only a thought. He knew that it was not realistic at all, and it would be even worse when combined with the terrain of Hagrid Grave and some strange beings.
Maybe it's because Darkus isn't green enough. He couldn't figure it out, but the Blackstone Foundry, Steel Terminal, and Terrorrail Train in Draenor next door seemed waaagh to him! But it doesn't matter, he quickly adjusted his mentality. He has time and a bunch of talents who are not related to these things. The important thing is that this world is not only physics and chemistry, but also magic and idealism!
Darkus carefully jumped down from the height and continued to walk around the workshop despite the high temperature. He looked left and right, all he needed was a red safety helmet. Sometimes I just stand there and stare at a certain location non-stop.
(End of chapter)