The Experimental Log of the Crazy Lich

Each era has its own brand. It is an objective fact that is not determined by personal opinions. In the medieval feudal era, advocating the bourgeois revolution is tantamount to death. If everyone advocates socialism is equal, it is to die.

In Aich, the feudal system and the city state are so ingrained, the core problem is still the cruel natural environment, the weak need to rely on the strong.

In the wild, fierce Warcraft, they are always in a cruel natural cycle. If you live in the wild, you will put yourself in the food chain cycle. In most cases, ordinary humans can only become food.

A group of ordinary wild wolves can take away a family of six. The flock of wild wolves probably can't reach a Winter Wolf World of Warcraft. The group of winter wolves are just the animals of the Frost Giants. When the winter is approaching, White Dragons generally love the excessive grain and warm caves stored by the Frost Giants. By the way, the original owner of the ice cubes will be used as a spare ration.

Of course, social reality will change, sometimes it will become better, sometimes it will become worse. Although manpower has its limits, some people can change the world bit by bit.

Sounds contradictory? In a certain world, the discovery and invention of "scientists" such as Darwin and Bruno have gradually announced that the ignorant era is coming to an end, and the birth of magical technology, the popularization of elemental users and the power of the law, are not Gradually weakening the difference between the strong and the weak, and the fall of the Holy Light, in another sense, also declared the end of the talent.

Ok, probably someone has seen that this series of changes has something to do with someone. He did play a big game.

"Some things. I can only do it. I can't say it. When the time is up, the coming will come. When it's time, I will cry out, 'It's coming, all the crowns are about to fall into the mortal', the silly goods will only be put by the wheels of history. I crushed myself."

All along, someone just said nothing, he knows that some things can only go with the flow, he has not shouted slogans in his life. The plan to become the enemy of the kings, after all, in this feudal kingship era, it is simply equal to the world.

Someone just expects to sprinkle some seeds. After they die, the ever-increasing productivity and social trends will make the world a little better.

But at least for now, the changes in this world are still lacking, and the troubles are not too small.

"Robbers? How can there be robbers this season? This is official."

I am afraid. The most surprising thing about this news is the trio from the North.

"...maybe better understand it. The rebels, the rebels of Marquis Stanley. The news I heard a few days ago, they started again."

Old Barton, who used to be a mercenary, is now a bar owner. How can he not know this news?

"Rebellion at this time? This is a jihad! It involves the war of justice for the entire race."

Mary, who first came to the Principality of Sasha, was shocked, but from her speech, what she knew was probably the written material.

"It is said that the Marquis is a demon believer. His flag has an evil snake head that swallows a hoe. The great priests of the Church have long cut it into heresy, but they have no spare time to attack such an enemy."

The gargoyle's vision is far beyond the ordinary scouts. The information is slightly summed up, and some new news is available. After sharing the information with several leaders, disputes and arguments are constantly being staged in the carriage.

"Is this the devil? This time it is impossible to be our friendly army."

This kind of thing has happened in recent years. Human beings are not so strong species, especially the lazy nobles who are in high positions only because of their blood. Many of them want to live longer and want to gain stronger strength. To get a higher status, "the temptation of the devil" and "the whisper of the devil" are just metaphors in the past, but now it is a real threat.

The invaders of the ectopic plane need a stronghold, need sacrifices, and need enough souls. Especially after the abyss of the lower plane disappears, many big lords fall in love with this once-in-a-lifetime carnival, the devil worshipers and cultists are active. The degree is at least 100 times that of a decade ago, and the youth and strength gained through sacrifices make more "people" come on. This seems to be a shortcut.

The Marquis of Stanley, the aristocratic powerhouse of the Saskatchewan, raised the flag of the renegade not long ago, whether or not there is a real devil behind it, or simply used to intimidate his timid men to follow himself. He painted on his own flag. With the devil's mark, it is clear that he has no longer regarded himself as a common human camp and a subordinate of Sasha.

Naturally, the Principality sent a squadron with the eldest son of the Grand Duke, and rallied several great aristocrats to fight in the past. This seems to be the last winter. The two sides have played dozens of small and medium-sized battles, big and small, and have never been divided. Winning and losing.

This has nothing to do with us. After all, the main battlefield is the site of the big lords. It is still a little far away from us. As long as there is war, there will be defeats and deserters. These guys are even harmed by ordinary bandits. Above.

If these defeated soldiers and deserters escape to their hometowns, they are mostly directly hanged. If they are the deserters of the rebels, they will have several more wanted orders, and even the average city will not dare to go.

Such a group of semi-professional warriors also want to eat. In the face of survival pressure, they are basically the lower limit of their life-threatening. They are best to support themselves. Probably only to be a bandit and rob the former caravan.

Under normal circumstances, only the end of the civil war, the winners have spared no effort to clear the deserters, but now the civil war has not been seen for more than half a year, and it is still early.

The scale of the war is not large, and the total number of wars is less than 100,000. In front of me who is used to the epic war, it can only be regarded as a small fight, but even such a small fight can create hundreds of deserters. And a bandit group consisting of dozens of deserters is already a sorrow of a small village and a small caravan.

Perhaps this is the sorrow born in this age, and belongs to the sorrow of mortals.

"There are dozens of ordinary people in their hands. They should be prisoners. Many people have been injured. Is there any village nearby?"

"... There is a village called Lanti Village on the map. There are probably only a hundred households, and dozens of professional soldiers absolutely take it."

"The nearby lord? He did not send troops?"

"It seems that it is a second-generation knight who has donated money. Only after he arrived, the guards with only a few dozen people may not have time to react. Even if they react, they may not have played. It seems that there are locals among them."

As a professional mercenary who has been mixing for nearly thirty years, Winston, the legendary legend, still knows about the situation of the surrounding lords. After all, this is the most common employer of his “powerful” mercenaries.

It is the duty of each lord to maintain the security of his own territory. If other lords do the work, it is almost equivalent to declare war, and if the strength is not good, but must be in the first place, it is only natural to hire some mercenary who are trustworthy.

And if he has not received this task, he will definitely go to the Cavaliers to recommend himself, and then take over the task, with his brother to get rid of these defeated towns.

I nodded, Winston's judgment was reasonable, these deserters were not stupid, the persimmons were soft and pinched, and the lord looked for the weakest provocation, and most of them had local guides.

I let the stone ghosts look high. In the direction of Rantai Village, it is indeed possible to see the fire and black smoke in a vague way. It seems that these bandits have just attacked the village and are still on their way home.

And they are now ambushing on the hills of the official road that we must pass. I am afraid that we have seen our carriage from a height, and we want to catch another ticket.

The luxurious carriages and the white horses pulling the carts are simply symbols of the great aristocracy. The warriors with chaotic steps and uneven equipment are obviously mercenaries, adding up to a fine piece of fat.

"I will go, quickly solve the road, just like the soldiers and zombies in the hand, as a former professional soldier, they should not let me down." (To be continued...)

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