Who says knights can't backstab

Chapter 560 His Majesty the King of La Rochelle

"Young man, tell me."

"Why is this?"

When this question was thrown to Cyril from Photios, Cyril wanted to answer directly with "don't know", but then he dismissed the idea.

This is a completely different history from that in the game. The eldest princess came to the throne earlier, and she has more time to sort out everything in La Rochelle. She no longer has to watch her younger brother become the new king surrounded by southern nobles like in the game. , and one's ambitions and ideals can only be swallowed in the stomach.

And in the history where the eldest princess had a lot of room for manipulation, he was lucky enough to become an important member of the future ruler of La Rochelle.

Every word he said now has enough weight.

It came sooner than he expected, but it was exactly what he wanted.

He was silent for a while, then took out the map of La Rochelle that he carried with him from his bracelet, and spread it out.

"If Your Majesty has any plans, the only way to start is with the call-up order." He raised his head and stared seriously at the Eldest Princess and Photios in front of him.

Of the two, one is the power core of La Rochelle's politics, and the other is the apex of religion. At this moment, he is not impatient with the speech of his little earl, but instead shows a look of expectation.

So he continued: "Before thinking about what the call-up order has brought to La Rochelle, it is better to think about what kind of state La Rochelle would be without the call-up order."

"Northern Xinjiang continues to be in turmoil. The dark creatures gradually completed integration during the invasion of La Rochelle and became a huge individual again. When they became giants again, they stepped up their offensive against Northern Xinjiang. In the case of almost falling, the two important cities must also be captured."

"Then the Tower of the North Wind fell, and then we lost control of the entire northern border."

"As for Ao San Emma, ​​New Orville Port, and even Palania, what will be done when La Rochelle is struggling to deal with the northern border, presumably His Royal Highness and His Majesty should know better than me."

"The southern nobles, due to their special geographical location, will hardly be affected by the war."

"It can be seen that the entire northern part of the kingdom will suffer due to the impact of the war, and the refugees will naturally choose to move south and flow into the south. The ebb and flow will lead to the growth of the southern aristocracy."

"And the war is obviously impossible to end in just one or two years. After a few years, even if the area south of Judea Pass and north of Solkon South is not affected too much, the influence of the southern nobles will be far away. Overtake Solkonan."

"On the issue of dealing with the southern nobles, Your Highness, I don't think they can be regarded as an individual of La Rochelle, but should be regarded as a separate existence, or even directly regarded as a hostile force."

Cyril took a deep breath and looked up to see the expressions of Anastasia and Photios. They were much more serious than when he first spoke. Obviously, his words did attract their attention.

The room fell into silence for a while, and several breathing sounds staggered.But at this moment, several violent coughing sounds suddenly came from the bed curtain.

Anastasia stood up quickly, lifted the bed curtain, and leaned into her upper body.From under the opened bed curtain, Cyril saw a dry arm that was almost indistinguishable from a bone frame, which made his eyes widen for a moment——

Is this Kelsen Hermann?

This is his hand?
He lowered his head and coughed a few times to hide his embarrassment.And Anastasia quickly turned back, put down the bed curtain, sat back on the bed, and shook her head at Photios who looked worried:
"It's not getting worse... It's better to say that the situation can't get worse."

"Go ahead, Count Adrian." Photios said to Cyril.

"Yes." Cyril nodded, "but the call-up order... I don't know how to describe this move of His Majesty, I can only say that the call-up order can be said to have allowed La Rochelle to find a way out of the inevitable decadence way of life."

"First of all, externally, the call-up order massively assembled troops, successfully completed the counterattack on the northern border, and severely damaged the power of the undead to a certain extent. In this way, even if the integration of the undead is completed, the already prepared border can also Withstand the attack from the undead."

"Once the problem in northern Xinjiang is resolved, the southern nobles will also lose the opportunity to grow stronger."

"Internally, the conscription order has weakened the private armies all over the country to a certain extent. If you want to say who suffered the most setbacks, it is obviously His Highness's confidant, the southern nobles."

"In order to profit from the bounty of the conscription order, they send a lot of private troops. Even if they don't send the most elite troops, their overall strength is inevitably damaged."

"As the strength of the local nobles weakens, the influence of Solkonan will also increase. Now that Solkonan only needs one or two military or financial policies, he can control those nobles to death. "

He looked at the bed curtain again, and through the layer of white gauze, he seemed to be able to see the thin and bony appearance of the once strong and tall king.

"The strong influence of the central government and the weakness of the local government are exactly the situation that is conducive to the new king's enthronement during the turbulent years."

"Your Highness, if you say that, can you understand His Majesty's layout, what exactly is it?"

After Cyril finished speaking, without further words, he stood up and bowed deeply to Anastasia and the bed curtain, and then slowly exited the king's bedroom.

The moment before he closed the door, he seemed to hear an uncontrollable cry erupting from the house, but it was covered by his closing the door in time.

Cyril stood in the corridor of the palace, surrounded by silence.He walked forward silently, the dim and not bright light fell on his body, only able to illuminate the ground and the half-person-high porch.

The courtyard was pitch black, and the snow that had fallen a few days ago remained on the branches that had lost their leaves.

He turned his head and saw that the golden silk border on the king's bedroom was still emitting a faint light.

It was like the last candlelight at the end of life of the Majesty whom he had never even met or had a conversation with in this life.

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Cyril sat quietly on the steps outside the hall for nearly half an hour, blowing the cold night wind, calming down his slightly dazed mood.

Until there was a sound of slow footsteps behind him.

He turned his head and saw His Majesty the Bishop walking down the steps with a calm face and looking at himself with gentle eyes.

"Your Majesty." He stood up, and Photius' gentle voice sounded: "Didn't you go back immediately?"

"I just feel... a bit unacceptable." Cyril thought for a while, then shook his head and said, "Where is Your Highness?"

"Anastasia, she has been crying for a while, but she is still busy now." Photiou's eyes softened, "I didn't expect that she, who was like a little girl a few years ago, will take over this job next." The kingdom's heavy fate."

Cyril was speechless, but Photios continued:

"Since you're not going back so late, why don't you go have a drink with me."

"What?" He raised his head, wondering, but saw Photios raised his hands flatly.

And following his movements, a huge amount of magical power quietly condensed in the open space not far in front of them. A moment later, amidst the flickering of golden light particles, a carriage gradually took shape——

It was an extremely luxurious carriage, the frame of which was shining with golden light, the body was dark brown red, and thin silver lines painted a pattern of water droplets on the magic circle on the body - that was the original Church logo.

In front of the car, four tall snow-white horses were waving their wings and neighing softly, waiting for their master to move them.

"This is..." Cyril almost couldn't close his jaw.He has seen countless exciting scenes in the game, but seeing a luxurious chariot pulled by four flying horses in reality, just as people raised their hands, it really opened his eyes.

"A bit of benefit from the Primordial Church to... the bishop?" Photios had already walked down the steps, opened the car door, and sat in first. "Of course, you have to sit in my position—come in."

Cyril sat in the carriage, the body of the carriage shook slightly, and then there was the sound of flapping wings in front——

The carriage took off.

There are not too many decorations in the carriage, and there is no space expansion through the magic circle, only a faint scent of incense lingers, which makes people feel soothed.

Photios leaned on the seat, half closed his eyes, and his sleeping posture was the same as that of an ordinary old man, without the slightest difference.

Cyril leaned against the window of the car, watching the clouds pass by, and the four flying horses steadily drove the carriage forward, flying over the highest mountain in the center of La Rochelle, and flying to another direction of the city.

Not long after, the carriage gradually descended. Cyril recognized that this was the edge of the outer city, and was wondering in his heart that the carriage had already stopped on the ground.

In the middle of the night, there were not even drunks on the streets of this remote place.Photios and Cyril got out of the carriage, and then he pointed to a tavern beside him that looked very small.

There was no tag with his name written on it, and no other introductions. He pushed open the dilapidated wooden door, and a tavern with only one counter, one table and four chairs, which could illuminate the entire space with a small oil lamp, appeared. In front of Cyril.

Cyril watched Photios walk to the counter with ease, took out the money bag from his pocket, and put a silver terry on the counter, then walked to the corner of the room, opened the wine barrel there, and scooped it up with a long spoon. Take out a spoonful and put it into a wooden cup on the side.

He sat down at the table with two glasses of wine and motioned for Cyril to sit opposite him.

"Do you think it's strange? It's a dilapidated and small tavern. Why would the Bishop of La Rochelle come here to drink?"

Photios smiled, picked up the wine glass, and took a sip, his gray beard was covered with foam.

"Although the place is small, the wine is not bad at all. I like the wine here very much."

Cyril looked down at the glass in front of him, the rim was wiped clean, and the ale inside was still bubbling with bubbles, and the liquor was clear and light yellow.

"Your Majesty is looking for me, is there anything else?"

He didn't pick up the wine glass, but asked softly.

"Things?" Photiou glanced at Cyril, and suddenly laughed, "No, no, no, I won't ask you to accomplish something. If there is something that needs to be surpassed by me, let young people like you go on top Finished? Hahaha!"

"That's..." Cyril looked at the old man until the latter stopped laughing.

He looked at Cyril again, his eyes full of relief.

"I heard from Yuanchu Knight that your achievements in Northern Xinjiang are very good. I haven't heard of such outstanding achievements for many years. It was done by a young man."

"Whether it's in La Rochelle or O'Saint Emma, ​​I don't think there will be any young people who are better than you... Maybe there will be wizards? But that doesn't matter."

"Adrian, Cyril Adrian, you are too good." He then sighed softly, "If you are in the Primordial Church, you can be the head of the Primordial Knights, or The position of the bishop of the provincial church can even become my successor."

"Your Majesty, I have no such intention." Cyril was flattered, but still replied.

"I know, of course, I understand, this is not your choice, and I will not force you—" Photios whispered, "I just hope you understand that because of your excellence, you will face the ordinary There are many things that young people don’t have access to.”

"Dangers are always around you, and some are unavoidable. I hope you can see your surroundings before moving forward."

"After all, only a star that really rises can illuminate the earth. I don't want you to become a shooting star that passes by in a flash."

"Protect yourself, young man. By Danya, may the stars shine on you."

Photios raised his wine glass and lightly touched Cyril's glass on the table. There was no sound when the wooden glasses collided, only a little bit of wine splashed out.

And that old face finally showed a trace of tiredness at this moment.

He finished the glass of wine in silence, then leaned back on the old chair with his feet crossed, causing the chair to lean back slightly.

The creaking sound came continuously along with the shaking of the chair. Cyril looked at the eyes that were gradually closing under the crown. Not long after, the old man leaned against the wall and remained motionless.

He fell asleep.

His Majesty the Archbishop of La Rochelle just fell asleep in this dilapidated tavern.

Cyril watched him quietly, until the old man's soft snoring sounded, then he lifted the glass and drank the wine in it.

The taste and texture are not outstanding, just ordinary ale.

He stood up, walked out of the tavern quietly, grabbed a handful of wind, and isolated the cold wind that poured into the room.

Then he whistled softly, and the figure of the Nightmare Horse emerged from the darkness, bowing its head meekly to him.

He got on the horse, rubbed a few times between the mane that looked like nothing, and then started the nightmare horse.

Not long after, when he walked into the magic plain and saw Mia's castle again, he was inexplicably relieved.

The castle lights are still on.

　go south go south

　　
　
(End of this chapter)