A fragile agreement was temporarily signed. Then, a huge map of Brittany was spread out on the wooden table in the abandoned villa.
Grand Necromancer Kemmler stretched out his dirty hand. His hand was as withered as a tree branch. His fingers were long and slender, with long fingernails. His fingernails were filled with greasy mud, which was rather disgusting to Matthew Bard.
On the contrary, Kemmler was amused by Matthew Bard's powdered face, meticulously groomed corners, and courteous actions. In the eyes of the Necromancer, only magic and power were the true essence of everything in the world. They were the ultimate goal to pursue. The rest were all illusions.
For power, Kemmler did not mind surrendering himself to Chaos. This was only one way to obtain power.
The allies, each with their own thoughts, finally stood in front of the map and looked at the current situation.
The situation left for the vampires was rather dangerous. Mu Xilon was like a lone island in the vast ocean. Since the era of the previous king, the Brittany had created an entire anti-epidemic zone along Mu Xilon. These anti-epidemic zones formed by castles and city walls might not be able to completely block Mu Xilon's undead army in that cursed land, but it was enough for Matthew Bard's army to spend a lot of effort to break through the defensive line. Furthermore, the Knight King's army would immediately know of their movements.
Therefore, Matthew Bard could not easily mobilize Mu Xilon's undead army. At the beginning, he still had to rely on Kemmler's army of ancient graves.
"If possible, I really wish to advance west and attack Bastogne directly." The Grand Necromancer stretched out his hand and pointed at Bastogne Castle, which was located not far west of the Blackstone Stronghold. On a tall stone mountain, Duke Berchemund and his red dragon family resided.
"Attacking Bastogne now is not a wise choice." Matthew Bard shook his head. "The Duchy of Bastogne is a very special place. It's the place where the country of Brittania has flourished. There are the most Holy Grail pilgrims and expeditionary knights there. The fake family coat of arms of Arthur's family can make a real heraldic master dizzy. Over the years, the southern part of Brittania has continued to prosper and become powerful. Seeing Count Ryan -Macado's fixed tax reform, many dukes have followed his example and carried out reforms in the name of 'Bitch in the Lake'. Bastogne is at the peak of the fixed tax reform. I dare say that if we attack the south at this time, whether it's the knights or serfs there, they will definitely fight us to the death."
(Bastogne is the place where the first Knight King, Arthur, rose to prominence. It is also the most important place of pilgrimage for the expeditionary knights. Because of this, there are a lot of fake family coats of arms of Arthur's family. Almost every lord claims that their territory has battle experiences and battle relics left behind by Arthur. This is just like how many restaurants in the south of the Celestial Empire claim to have been patronized by Kangxi or Qianlong. It is not good to take it seriously.
"What's wrong with that? The more dead there are, the more we can revive the dead and form a new army. " Hearing Duke Musillon's words, the Necromancer already had an idea. However, Kemmler wanted to test Matthew Bard's ability, so he pretended to be surprised and said, "This is in line with our plan."
After hearing Kemmler's words, Matthew Bard immediately understood that Kemmler was testing him. As a former Brittany knight and Akelhan's godson, Matthew Bard knew this country like the back of his hand. He continued without batting an eyelid. "Yes, that's right. After you revive a certain number of dead, you will have to face the allied forces of Laing and François, as well as the Dwarf Clan. In addition to Duke Berchemund and his Red Dragon Knight Brotherhood, I think your Ancient Tomb Army is not enough to bear this heavy responsibility. I don't mean to belittle you, Sir Kemmler, but I still have to say that we have a better choice."
The Undead Alliance had just been established. Matthew Bard and Kemmler still needed each other. Matthew Bard also knew that he had to show some real strength. Otherwise, it would be difficult to gain Kemmler's trust.
"A better choice? We can go down south and attack Palawon, or go up north and attack Montfort. " Kemmler strode past Matthew Bard. The Noisy Staff in his hand was chattering non-stop.
"Due to the invasion of Chaos at the beginning of last year, this country's army was severely depleted. The situation was the worst in the north of the kingdom. Not only did Lyonasser fall into internal strife, but their productivity has also deteriorated. The new Duke Aldrid is already in a terrible state to exterminate the rebellion of the serfs. It's almost impossible for the Duchy of Connet and Le-Ange to pass through the Forest of Arden." Matthew Bard's finger moved along the gray mountain range. "Therefore, we have two ideal targets for attack."
"Montfort, or Gisoleiox." Kemmler's deep gaze moved along the gray mountain range. He muttered, "But if we fight like this, are you sure we won't attract Bastogne's reinforcements?"
"As long as we're fast enough, they won't." Matthew Bard pointed at the border between Gisoleiox, Montfort, and Bastogne. His lips curled up. "Historically, the relationship between these three duchies has always been poor. The Duchy of Montfort and Gisoleiox both coveted Bastogne's vast plains. Therefore, even though there hasn't been a large-scale war between the two sides, the barons and counts under them have never stopped fighting. As long as we move fast enough, the pride and arrogance of the knights will prevent them from being able to reinforce each other."
"Very good." Kemmler expressed his satisfaction with Matthew Bard's plan. The necromancer raised his head and looked into Matthew Bard's eyes.
What he saw was a black knight filled with hatred and resentment. Kemmler liked this kind of ally.
In Matthew Bard's eyes, what he saw was a necromancer filled with intense hatred and greed.
"Then … what's your decision?" Matthew Bard indicated that it was time for Kemmler to make a decision.
"I agree with your decision to attack the north first and then the south. We will attack first and catch the Brittany off guard." Kemmler laughed. His old and shriveled laughter echoed throughout the abandoned villa. The necromancer first took a few steps before turning back. He pointed at Matthew Bard behind him and said, "You've given me a good suggestion, godson of the Lich King."
"Then we can prepare to attack Gisoleiox …" Matthew Bard said subconsciously.
"Gisoleiox? No, we won't attack Gisoleiox! " Kemmler rudely refuted Matthew Bard's suggestion. "My army and I won't attack that place for the time being."
“？？？” Matthew Bard frowned. He had already given two locations. The Duchy of Montfort wasn't a good target. That duchy had almost no farmland, and its income was dependent on grazing and tariffs. There were also mines in the Grey Mountains. Under such circumstances, almost every lord in the Duchy of Montfort had built strong castles along the Grey Mountains to monitor the roads and control the pastures. "Can you tell me the reason?"
"The reason is … I'm the one who decides where to attack!" Kemmler walked in front of Matthew Bard. His wrinkled face under his magus hat stared at Duke Musillon who had an unpleasant expression. "Learn to adapt to your role, Akhan's godson. Your mission is to assist me, not order me around. Do it well."
"… Of course, since you've decided, let's do it." Matthew Bard's expression was uncertain, but he finally nodded in agreement. "My army and I will assist you. No matter where you plan to attack, I will do my best."
"You'd better." The Grand Necromancer stared at Duke Musillon for a while. After making sure that he had no other thoughts, he looked away. "Very well. Now, let us go back and prepare for war. My Ancient Tomb Army will bring disaster to this world, starting with the Duchy of Montfort."
"If that's the case, I'll take my leave. Sir Kemmler, when you're ready, I will lead my army from Musillon to support you." Matthew Bard lowered his posture and bowed politely. "Don't forget our agreement."
"Okay." Kemmler gripped his skull staff tightly. The crow at the tip of the staff cawed a few times, and powerful necromancy magic surrounded him. He dissipated in a fog filled with the stench of death and corpses.
"Such arrogance." A vampire lord behind Matthew Bard walked up. His voice was filled with anger. "A necromancer who doesn't even have a noble title and has been wandering in the Gray Mountains for many years like a dog. Even so, he's still so arrogant. I think we should teach him a lesson, my Duke."
"A lesson must be taught, but not now." His blue eyes were filled with a strange smile. "Now, Kemmler and I are still allies who advance and retreat together. We need each other. We are now compatriots, brothers, and comrades. At the very least, we are allies who each have our own thoughts. He and I must unite and work together to fight against the knights. My relationship with him is one that benefits both of us if we work together and harm both of us if we don't."
"Your will is the criterion for my actions, my Duke." The vampire lord's name was Hal Harris. If Laing was here, he would immediately realize that he was the contact of the Marlinburg merchant Gabe Newell in Musillon. After Akerman left, the vampires in Musillon pledged their loyalty to Matthew Bard.
Vampires were all traitors. Matthew Bard didn't know how loyal they were, but he guessed that it wouldn't be a lot.
After thinking for a while, Matthew Bard continued, "Since Kemmler has decided to attack Montfort, we only need to cooperate fully. Prepare to go back and gather the troops."
"Do we really have to cooperate fully? My Duke? That Kemmler is so arrogant. He'll be a formidable opponent in the future! " The vampire lord was unwilling. He said in a sharp voice, "We should be on guard against him. At least, we can't let him win so easily."
"No. This time, we have to help Kemmler. Even if there are no benefits, we have to help him." Matthew Bard rejected Harris' suggestion again. He frowned. "Now, Musillon has become an isolated city. We have to rely on the Ancient Tomb Army to open up a path for us. Kemmler's every victory will cause the knights and the b * tches in the lake to shift their attention away from Musillon. This is what we need. With this as the premise, we have to help him with all our strength … at least for now."
"Do we need to contact the Lich King?" Harris asked.
"No need." Matthew Bard lowered his head and pondered. Lich King Akerman was currently searching for traces of the Sorcerer's Crown in the Southern Wastelands and the bordering princes' territories. Man Frey was leading a large undead army to attack Skaven Magic City. The Sword of Nagash was in Skaven Magic City.
"Prepare the plan." Matthew Bard didn't think too much. He signaled his subordinates to prepare to leave.
… …
Golden autumn, Old World, Brittany, Earl Glamorgan's territory.
Laing was patrolling his territory on his pure-blooded elven horse, Grape. Apart from the dwarves and knights, his army was temporarily disbanded. The soldiers were busy returning home for the autumn harvest. This year was another good harvest. The granaries were filled with golden grains. Everyone had a smile on their faces. Groups of children were playing in the countryside.
The serfs used handcarts or poles to transport the grains. First, Morgiana's prophets of the lake collected tithes. Then, Laing's tax officers collected fixed taxes. After these two taxes were paid, the remaining grains belonged to the serfs themselves.
Carriage transportation had sprung up in the territory. Some serfs began to change their appearances and become coachmen. Laing even saw that some serfs had begun to hire people to help them harvest the grains. A market was gradually forming in the village. Some peddlers carried fruits, meat, and lamp oil along the village. Some dwarves of the Angran clan also joined them, hawking their farming tools and daily necessities.
The number of windmills and waterwheels in the territory was increasing. In some places where Laing's craftsmen could not build a waterwheel in time, the serfs even pooled their money together to hire dwarves to help them build a waterwheel first. Some serfs who had learned a skill chose to move to the city and rely on their skills and craftsmanship to make a living. Some even opened shops in the city and worked for knights or merchants. They gradually exchanged their hard work and achievements for wealth and higher social status.
A new class was sprouting. They were collectively known as the freedmen. They represented the enterprising collective of serfs who were eager to change their fate. These people were gradually becoming the glue that filled the insurmountable gap between serfs and nobles.
The oracle of the Lake Fairy brought great hope to this new class. Every ambitious serf realized that if they wanted to become a free person or even a knight, they had to go to the battlefield and perform meritorious deeds. Therefore, they bought a complete set of soldier equipment and weapons for themselves and waited for the conscription. They would never return to the countryside to work hard. There was no farmland in the town, but it was full of opportunities.
"What a prosperous rural scene. In the past few years, the number of freedmen has risen from a few hundred to a few thousand now." Laing looked at the lively harvest scene and the smiles on the faces of the serfs. He said to Suria beside him, "There will be more in the future. At this rate, my army can gradually be released."
"Apothecaries, armorsmiths, bowsmiths, winemakers, scribes, carpenters, cartographers, gemstone cutters, gunsmiths, herbalists, vendors, shipbuilders, blacksmiths, stonemasons, tailors, and weaponsmiths. In your territory, I can see almost all types of craftsmen from the old world." Suria raised her chin. The countess winked at Laing and said coquettishly, "Laing, you've done well. You didn't waste my trust."
After saying that, the female knight covered her mouth with her small hand and laughed softly. "Interesting, very interesting. Now the dukes of the whole country are secretly learning from your reforms. You're injecting fresh blood and bringing a new atmosphere to the country. Well done."
"???" Laing felt strange. He asked tentatively, "Suria? What's wrong with you? This is not like you. "
"Oh? How is this not like me? Am I not your beloved wife? " The female knight laughed. She rode the pure-blooded Elf Warrior Maricht and approached Laing. She said in his ear, "Or, do you prefer me to be more serious?"
"You …" Laing's face slowly darkened. "You're not Suria!"
"Hehehehe, I've been discovered. This is your reward." The female knight patted her full chest with interest, making it bounce. She gently kissed Laing's face. "This is the deposit. Wait, there's more. Let's talk about it when we get to my tower."
"What's wrong? What happened? "Laing was acutely aware of the problem.
"The situation has changed, my champion." "Suria's" expression also became serious. "Let's go to my tower. Let's talk."
"Okay."
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