MTL - I Will Be The Crowned King-Chapter 15 big plan

When Anson, who was alone, walked back to his tent along the maze-like trench, it was already late at night.

Lighting the kerosene lamp, An Sen, who was sitting at the table, habitually took out a letter from a pile of letter paper, preparing to write down everything that happened today—this was not only his "professionalism" before crossing, but also his way of saving his life.

Only with sufficient information and understanding of the information can you prevent yourself from revealing flaws in this completely unfamiliar world, or lose your life in vain because you ignore some insignificant "details".

Anson doesn't believe in acting on the spot, and adapting to the situation is just an excuse for not making a proper plan; he knows himself well, knows his bottom line and purpose, and has a basic understanding of the situation, so that he can know what he should do at any time, rather than panic. Aimlessly, drifting with the flow.

"Um?"

An Sen, who was slightly stunned, looked at the letter paper that was originally piled in the upper left corner of the table, and was very deliberately arranged and placed in the upper right corner—if he hadn't habitually reached for it, he wouldn't even have noticed it.

Someone came to his tent and moved something.

Of course, it might just be a certain soldier in charge of duty - Anson is still just a small adjutant, and his tent is not qualified to be guarded by guards, with a sign that says "idlers are not allowed to enter".

An Sen, who was hesitant in his heart, took the letter from the top, and the moment he raised his right hand, his pupils shrank suddenly.

is blood!

On the original white as new letter paper, there was a three-ringed rune sprinkled with blood plasma!

Come on, two!

As a universal belief in this world, the "three-ring rune" of the Church of Order is also called "the rune of order", which is identified with three overlapping white circles.

The "Old God Sect" that "Former Anson" participated in uses the red runes on the top and bottom to identify their identity, which is the opposite of the Church of Order, and calls them "primitive runes" - meaning they believe in the old **** It is the orthodox, and the powerful Church of Order is the "blasphemer".

An Sen, whose heartstrings were tense, held his breath and listened motionlessly to the slightest movement around him.

After confirming that there should be no one around, he breathed a sigh of relief and stared at the still-blooded mark on the letter, and began to think about the purpose of the other party's mark.

This probably proves two points - the other party is in this military camp as he initially guessed, and he is very clear about the approximate time he will return to the tent.

There is a sequence of two points. If you are not in the military camp, it is impossible to know that you are still alive; and an "Old God School" who dare not easily expose himself is not afraid to easily put the stationery with the original rune on it. In a tent that might break in suddenly.

But today, whether it was reporting to Ludwig or going to the cell to "interrogate" the prisoners, it was Anson's "improvisation"; it was impossible for ordinary soldiers or even officers to know the approximate time when he returned to the tent.

There is only one explanation, and that is that the other party knows his every move very well.

While Anson was still thinking about it, the "primitive rune" on the stationery had quietly changed.

The entire rune suddenly trembled slightly on the letter paper as if it had come to life. The traces drawn by the blood were like tentacles of mollusks, twitching and shrinking disorderly, gathering the bloodstains to the center at a fast speed.

The blood plasma that had penetrated almost the entire letter paper disappeared without a trace under Anson's eyes!

The next second, a line of blood-red elegant handwriting appeared on the "brand new" stationery.

[My dear friends, may the ancient old **** bless you on this moonless night. 】

[Sorry to contact you again in the past so long, but you must know the reason; this world controlled by evil blasphemers is not friendly to us who hold the 'truth', and we must act in secret. 】

Anson was shocked, what is this?

Magic, sorcery, chaotic energies, dark curses...

short message?

Besides, since you also know to be careful, why don't you come to me directly; wouldn't it be easier to expose the news in such a weird way?

However, the other party should not be able to observe his thoughts at the moment, and the handwriting made of blood continued to appear on the letter paper in an orderly manner:

[First of all, allow me to congratulate you, a brilliant victory at the right time, which brought the balance that was almost out of control back into balance, and did not let the son of the archbishop have the slightest doubt about you... The old gods bless. 】

Sure enough, he was in the barracks!

Before An Sen's eyes were bright, he was not happy with his correct judgment, and suddenly thought of another question:

Judging from the opponent's "tone", winning that battle by himself was beyond his expectations; but if it was the "old gods" who killed him, the most surprising thing he should be most now is not that he still Is it alive?

Could it be that there is another secret?

And...what does out of control scale mean?

With an indescribably complicated mood, An Sen continued to read along the other side's "handwriting" by the light of the kerosene lamp:

[Dear friends, your brave and decisive actions reminded me that it is time; yes, I think it is time, as you expected when you first came into contact with this ancient organization. 】

The blood-red elegant handwriting trembled slightly, and the slightly splashed "ink" seemed to tell the other party's excitement:

[It's time for you to truly participate in the 'grand plan' of the ancient Old God Sect's rise after years of decline! 】

Looking at the suddenly excited handwriting, Anson felt a cold war all over his body.

He really wants to point the other person's nose now and tell him that it's not me, I don't want to, don't look for me - this kind of good thing that you will be tied to the exhaust valve of the steam engine by the church, you must not die, you Or find someone else!

[Yes, dear friends, I am as excited as you are now; but please calm down and patiently allow me to slowly convey this great mission to you. 】

The handwriting on the stationery slowly became soothing, perhaps because the ink was running out, the bright red and viscous blood began to fade a little:

[As we talked about last time, we are not only in the Kingdom of Clovis, but also in the entire world of order and even in all corners of the world; we have long been brewing for the whole world to recognize the actions of the old gods. 】

[This war between the empire and the Kingdom of Clovis is just one part of the 'big plan' - tearing the fragile illusion of prosperity that the 'blasphemers' are committed to maintaining, pouring out the wrath of the old gods on every A heart full of fear! 】

[Dear friends, your mission is to take down this Thunder Fortress as soon as possible, so that the steel chariot of the Kingdom of Clovis can show its due strength, and this war must not be easily ended by the empire. 】

The faster the writing on the stationery, the more scribbled it became; through the stationery, Anson could feel the obsession and ecstasy of the other party, and more questions followed:

How huge is the power of the Old God Sect? If it is so powerful that it can penetrate into every corner of the world, why can't you notice it around you?

On the surface, the battle between the empire and the Clovis Kingdom, which is just a territorial dispute, has how much connection does it have with the "big plan" of the old gods?

The out-of-control balance mentioned earlier means that if the Kingdom of Clovis can't take Thunder Fort as soon as possible, in order to continue the "big plan" of the old gods, will they still directly do it?

[At this exciting time, dear friends, please remain calm and vigilant; I will do my best to meet with you in the near future, officially pass on the glory of the old gods to you, and set foot on the greatness of following the old ones journey. 】

As if announcing the end, the previous content began to fade away, and the new handwriting became faster and faster:

[In addition... Although it is against the oracle to say this, if possible, I sincerely wish you, rather than others, to be able to make an indelible contribution to the old god's 'big plan' at such a critical moment. 】

[I will pray for you, and may the ancient old **** bless you on this moonless night. 】

Ending with the same content as the beginning, when the last stroke with no ink at all was drawn on the letter paper, there was no blood on the entire paper.

An Sen, who was silent for a long time, slowly put the letter on the table back to its original position, carefully walked out of the tent, and stared in the direction of Fort Thunder Fortress.

May it be me and not someone else... That guy means that apart from him, there are also people from the "Old God Sect" waiting for an opportunity in the Thundercastle Fortress opposite?

…………

In the middle of the night, Thunder Fort, the baggage warehouse.

"Boom!"

The heavy door was closed and locked, and the dust that spewed from the gap and the bearings rose like smoke and gradually dispersed.

Breathing out a deep breath, the knight with his hands still pressed against the door slowly turned around and faced the darkness in front of him.

He is tall and slender, even standing there, with his blond hair tied in a neat ponytail; if Anson stood here, at first glance, he would definitely think of the knight in front of him as someone who was adored by him. The guy who hit the captive by mistake.

Kroger Bernard - He looks exactly the same as his younger brother Louis except for his slightly mature appearance. The only thing that can distinguish the two is his height, and the two-handed sword that he has always carried behind his back, which seems out of touch with this era.

With the sound of heavy iron boots beating, he slowly walked to the depths of the warehouse; in the middle of a specially vacated space, he found the goal of his trip.

The thirteen Clovis soldiers, bound together by iron chains, looked at the imperial knights walking towards them in fear and dazedness.

"You... are very unfortunate."

Grog stopped, his voice resounding in the warehouse like a sword sharpening.

"Originally, I didn't intend to do it so quickly, the war fortune has just begun, there is no need to let the will of the great old **** appear early; it doesn't even need such a conspicuous way, there are a thousand reasons between the empire and the Kingdom of Clovis to kill one. You live and die...but!"

The indifferent Imperial Knight's expression suddenly became distorted and hideous, and the corners of his twitching mouth were gnashing his teeth: "My brother, my dear brother...Louis Bernard...that simple and a little stupid Louis...a few days ago...died... On the battlefield..."

"I saw with my own eyes that he was killed by your Clovis shells... So, do you understand my mood at the moment?"

The pale-faced Clovis soldiers looked at each other one by one, facing each other in horror, but none of them opened their mouths - their tongues were all pulled out.

"Of course, as the defenders of Fort Thunder, you are innocent." Kroger said calmly, holding the hilt of the great sword behind him with his right hand:

"But as 'human beings', as blasphemers who have betrayed the old gods for thousands of years, who can be called truly innocent?"

"It cannot be forgiven, and it will never be forgiven; only the deepest fear and the most sincere sacrifice can wash away the sins we carry... What do you think?"

Of course no one answered.

The pale-faced Clovis soldiers stared at the great sword in his hand, guessing their fate, and now there is only desperate struggle left.

Backing up, pulling, and even fighting each other in order to avoid the knight's sight... No matter how hard they struggled, there was no chance of them escaping when they were chained together by iron chains.

"Clang!"

With a soft sound, the big sword fell to the ground.

"I heard that you people in the Kingdom of Clovis are obsessed with machinery, and even disobeyed the pseudo-pope of the Church of Order to create a steel monster that can run on orbit." Kroger, who sneered, clenched his sword hilt. The right hand twists hard:

"Interestingly, I'm also interested in machinery—albeit in a completely different way."

"Click!"

A soft, twisting sound came from the center of the hilt.

In the next second, UU reads www. uukanshu. com The two-handed sword in his hand suddenly disconnected section by section!

"Clang! clang! clang! clang..."

Originally a whole sword edge, it suddenly split into sections, connected by steel cables; and with the piercing sound of gears turning, there were gaps popping out from the center of the sword edges on both sides. Jagged with strange runes.

"This crippled mechanic forged it for me - a great tearing sword, I remember that he called this sharp blade."

"He told me that it may not be the most efficient killing weapon, but it is good for crushing."

In the darkness where no one responded, Kroger, who was talking to himself, pressed his right hand holding the sword to his forehead. The only half of his face exposed was extremely hideous, and his crazy eyes turned blood red with invisible pupils:

"Pray to the old old gods, your humble servants here offer sacrifices that will honor you..."

The ripping great sword connected by iron chains danced in Grogg's hand like a long whip.

"Pfft—!!"

The next moment, the blood-splattered rusty teeth were covered with tattered minced meat.

No screams, no screams of despair; the only sound in the dark warehouse is the collision of metal and flesh and blood, the shattering of ribs and cranial cavities, muscles being torn, smashed, crushed, beaten... all of this The discordant noises were all locked by the closed door.

The knight wielding the great sword recklessly, was unknowingly soaked in the bright red viscous liquid, and calmly and enthusiastically recited crazy verses:

"...Only darkness can reveal light...

...only blood can live forever...

"Only destruction can be great..."

Blood splashed down with the blade of the sword, and a huge "primordial rune" appeared under his feet.