Warhammer Divine Throne

Chapter 1251: Chapter 538: The Transaction Between Undead and Chaos (2)

This is part of the deal, the Chaos Evil God Tzeentch has already shown his sincerity.

”Can you give me some time to think about it?” Mathew Bade still didn’t want to hand over the Lion’s Riding Spear.

”You can, but it must be soon.” The Two-headed Crow had no strong reaction, it shook its head, blue eyes swirling with magic power: ”There are also the Duke of Musillon’s Crown and the Unbreakable Lake Light lance, these are also part of the deal.”

”Why do you want the holy artifacts? What use do they have for you?” Mathew Bade deliberately asked: ”I don’t understand.”

”It’s my master’s order, to collect thirteen holy artifacts.” The Two-headed Crow seemed not to plan on answering the question: ”Thirteen lances and the Duke of Musillon’s Crown, it’s part of the plan.”

”You haven’t told me the truth.”

”You don’t need to know the truth, mortal. You become the king, we get the holy artifacts, it’s a transaction.”

The Two-headed Crow flew away from the window sill, outside a large flock of bats continued to fly by, Mathew Bade’s gaze was wavering, caught in hesitation.

It was clear that Carlos, the Fate Weaver, the Great Demon of Tzeentch, came with a significant mission, and the Viper of Musillon had a feeling that if Carlos collected all thirteen lances and the Duke of Musillon’s Crown, something extremely frightening would happen in the Mortal World.

As long as it doesn’t collect everything, Mathew Bade could only temporarily convince himself.

What he didn’t notice was that a group of bats, after flying past the window outside the room again, left Richard Castle and flew into the distance.

...... I am a divider in the transaction ......

In late March, within Charon Forest, the Southern Knightly Path Army’s camp, early spring, the night was as cool as water.

Campfires burned quietly in the damp forest soil, crackling, with gusts of cold wind blowing from within the woods, as though harboring a terrifying sound. Simple tents were set up, and the Wood Elf Rangers were patrolling on the perimeter while the internal troops seized the time to rest.

The peasant soldiers were almost all injured, treating their wounds with bandages and precious medicaments, sitting in groups of three or two having dinner, the army’s supplies were relatively ample, including meat and vegetables. They boiled water to soften black bread in the pot, then added a small amount of grains and fresh vegetables for dinner.

Most people were mostly silent, occasionally some injured peasants let out low moans. Though most of the wounded were treated, undoubtedly many had lost arms, legs, or eyes, and faced retiring with compensation to farm on Laine’s lands.

This was unacceptable for many peasants, many wounded peasants wept endlessly, preferring to die in battle rather than become cripples.

Tall bushes and deciduous trees were covered in dew, dripping onto the muddy forest floor, and upon everyone’s hearts.

Sharp-Top Palace was destroyed, the entire castle melted, arduously fighting, holding out against the Undead Army for a day and night, yet in front of the Tzeentch Demon Army, it crumbled in less than two hours, which was hard for many soldiers to accept.

The only fortunate thing was that Laine’s army did not suffer heavy casualties, as the Tzeentch Demon Army did not pursue when they saw the army retreating, allowing almost all the non-dead soldiers to retreat over the floating bridge smoothly.

Adding chunks of wholemeal bread into a bubbling iron pot, adding a piece of pork bone and several strips of pork belly, Remon, the Long Halberd Company’s commander, sat on a rock. He was lucky to have only scraped a piece of skin on his back, very fortunate for someone who had served for many years.

Such ample meat wasn’t a common soldier’s privilege, Sir Bertrand, the commander of the Charon Forest Patrol Battalion, was sitting across from him. This 40-year-old Green Arrow exhaled a sigh, shaking his head while sampling the meat soup.

Seeing Remon unmoving, Bertrand laughed, ”Aren’t you going to eat?”

”Too many brothers died, not much of an appetite.” Remon was indeed a bit hungry but truly had no appetite, recalling a peasant soldier from the slave shelter who lived next to him and was good friends, in the battle with the Tzeentch Demon Army, turning into a mass of charred ash right in front of him.

After listening, Bertrand continued eating, the Lord Winford laughed bitterly, ”Remon, in war, people die. I’m telling you, our casualties of over six hundred are considered light, Her Highness Mogiana saved countless lives with one Divine Art!”

”...Sir Bertrand?”

”Hmm?”

”Is that... Chaos Demon? They are incredibly powerful, right?” Remon, seeing no one around, cautiously asked, ”Chaos Demons really exist?”

”Shut up! Remon!” Bertrand’s expression changed instantly at Remon’s question, his long whiskers under his nose quivering several times, ”It’s not your concern, be careful with your words! Or if you vanish one day, I won’t attempt to save you!”

”Ah! Yes, I understand.” Remon was startled, suddenly realizing the gravity of what he had done, promptly bowed his head to admit mistake.

Bertrand was about to say something more when a Kingdom Knight dressed in full plate armor with a tattered robe approached from afar, ”Bertrand? Are you there?”