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King

Thousands of races coexist, where the sword and Magic shine together, the Human Race, Sea Race, Elves, Dwarfs, Orcs ... all rush to unfold the light of civilization, composing their epic tragedies! (A Lord's Farming Tale)

New Sea Moon · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
781 Chs

Chapter 26, The Abruptly Died Virgin Mary's Heart_1

The principle of "small matters require big meetings, big matters require small meetings" applies equally on the Continent of Aslante.

Hundreds of nobles discussing together, spending a month discussing, may not necessarily produce a result.

This has been reflected in the Noble Parliament of the kingdom. Even trivial matters can drag on for three to five months.

After calming the populace, a group of nobles including Hudson were left in the hall for dinner. Only a few noble representatives, followed Earl Piers out.

Other than Charles representing the Alliance, the rest were powerful factions within the province, a perfect demonstration of the law of the jungle.

As for the discussion results, Hudson had lost hope. From Charles's previous performance, it was clear that he did not have the confidence to argue based on reasoning.

Of course, having representatives is better than not having any. At the very least they can express everyone's basic demands.

After all, they are nobles, and their public appearances should not be too unseemly. The influence of over a hundred less powerful nobles in the Alliance also needs to be considered.

No matter how much they discount, they will certainly have some merit. How it is evaluated will depend on the pattern of the insiders.

If they want everyone to continue to work hard, they must be fair and impartial. There should be no problem with that, the key is the arrangement of the upcoming battle.

To avoid being cannon fodder, Hudson had to forgo eating, transforming into a diligent little bee, constantly shuttling through the hall.

At this moment, it was a test of the soft power of the clan. Holding a letter written by Baron Redman, Hudson kept visiting old friends and relatives.

Although such occasions are unsuitable for exchanging sentiments, mingling to familiarize oneself with others is necessary. Perhaps on the battlefield, one's life could be saved by these connections.

It must be admitted that there are advantages to flourishing population, at least there are enough relatives.

Just among those bearing the flag of the Koslow clan, Hudson encountered three people, one of whom was serving under Earl Piers.

As for close and distant relatives, there were even more. If one insisted on climbing up the social ladder, roughly one-third of the people present could be considered their own.

Of course, these resources are reciprocal. Without conflicts of interest, everyone is happy to use this opportunity to make more connections.

After all, from the current situation, it's possible that an expedition could set out tomorrow. Having seen the power of the rebel army, no one dares to underestimate it now.

Making more connections is always beneficial. Even hugging the feet of the Lord of the Dawn temporarily is better than not hugging.

After making a round, Hudson had almost met all the nobles present. How much effect this will have depends on the development of the situation.

Overall, Hudson was satisfied. Regardless of how much the noble consortium undercuts behind closed doors, everyone still maintains the demeanor of a gentleman publicly.

Helping out and selling favors within one's ability is quite common in noble circles.

There are those who bite the hand that feeds them, but they are very few. Once exposed, they are as good as severed from the circle and decline is just a matter of time.

Especially for favors received openly, these must be returned.

Without waiting for the results of the discussions, Hudson casually stuffed some roast meat into his mouth and drank a glass of juice before leaving.

It wasn't that everyone didn't give him face, but today's losses were heavy, and the morale of the army is unstable now, so it's inappropriate for the commander-in-chief to be away for long.

As soon as he stepped out of the fortress, a strong pungent smell rushed towards his face, making people feel nauseous. Looking at the flickering flames in the distance, Hudson almost vomited.

"Burning corpses" was also an inevitable part of the battlefield. No one knew exactly how many people died in the daytime battle, but for sure it was not a small number.

Not choosing to bury the bodies, but burning them on the spot, was not because everyone had learned scientific health knowledge. The main reason was: in the Extraordinary World, bodies can also become lethal weapons.

Especially when the enemy is a cult organization like the Skeleton Society, there is a big hidden danger if they have a necromancer.

Hudson did not know if he was hearing things right, but he thought he heard faint screams, and seemed to see figures moving in the flames.

Instinct told Hudson that he wasn't mistaken, they were indeed burning living people. Anger rose from his heart, only to be immediately extinguished by reason.

If he guessed right, the soldiers in charge of burning the bodies must have been careless, treating unconscious rebel soldiers as corpses, not giving them a killing blow before sending them to be burned.

In such a situation, what could Hudson say?

"Go and remind them to stab each body again before burning them?"

Rescuing them is impossible anyway.

Those contaminated by the Evil Tool, even if their lives were saved, would gradually lose their selves and slowly transform into killing machines. To save such people, one would need a high priest to purify them.

There is indeed a high priest in the fortress, but he is already too busy healing injured nobles. Even the wounded of the Crimson Knights' Brigade are only treated by ordinary priests.

Allied Force soldiers who were seriously injured could only rely on their comrades to deliver the killing blow. Who had time to care for the rebels?

Apart from lamenting the cruelty of the world, Hudson could do nothing. Even though a voice deep within him kept telling him to change this world, reason still firmly held the upper hand.

If he doesn't prepare to live beyond three episodes with such a kind-hearted mind in this precarious situation, he will surely get killed.

As someone who was afraid of death, Hudson decidedly chose to turn a blind eye, and returned to the camp as quickly as possible.

As the victorious side, they should enjoy the fruits of victory, even if they won bitterly. After a careful count of the spoils of war, Hudson was greatly disappointed.

Demon cores and magic crystals, which he had fantasized about, were nowhere to be seen. Obviously, these seemingly high-end things that are useless to ordinary people, no one would bring them to the battlefield.

There wasn't much wealth either, just over a hundred gold coins, over eight hundred silver coins, and a pile of copper coins which weren't worth much.

Fortunately, Hudson does not need to pay out pensions and wages. Otherwise, this little money would probably only be enough for burial costs.

Two dead horses, which were probably the mounts of some allies, were now being turned into a meal by the soldiers.

There was some gain in weapons and equipment, but because the competition was too fierce, not many were collected.

"Thirteen suits of armor, thirty-five cleavers, twenty-eight great axes, ninety-six long spears, sixteen crossbows, five knight swords..."

Looking at these pitiful figures, Hudson wondered for a moment if this was the heavens' way of teaching him to learn from Nurhaci, upholding the spirit of "rebelling with thirteen suits of armor."

Considering it enough, playing at kings and emperors on the Continent of Aslante, would lead to being burned alive in the flames like the rebel soldiers.