On the way back, the Siliki army unexpectedly encountered the Amasil Natural Guards while resting in the city.

The Amasil Natural Guards led the O'Connor's eldest son, Hobbet O'Connor.

This young man who is suspected to inherit the title of "Duke of Amasil" from his father did not have much complacent after winning, and he was not even as proud as he did during the Fengfeng Festival.

Lewis Zimmerman and Amy Harber followed him and drank with him in the tavern. When Cyril walked into the tavern and walked to their table, he didn't even cheer up and asked for a good idea, his eyelids were almost closed.

"Why are you?" Amy Harber looked at Cyril in surprise, and the latter simply sat next to him and asked the waiter for a wine glass.

"What's wrong with him?" Cyrill asked softly to Amy Harber, who shook his head. "Nothing big has happened. He was cursed by the Necromancer and was disgusted. He couldn't be interested in anything he did in a short time."

"The priests of Yuanchu Church did not untie him?"

"The structure of this curse is too complicated. Sacrifices below the profession level cannot be resolved, and those above the profession level do not have this energy. There are too many wounded soldiers to be cured, so this irrelevant curse will naturally not be ranked."

Harbor said, sighing again, "But even if the curse is unraveled, his mood will probably not be much better."

"Um?"

"Natural Guards suffered heavy losses. Even if Master Hobert is the son most respected by the Duke, he will probably be punished. The inheritance rights may not be stable..."

"As the chief instructor of the Natural Guards, Mr. Joyce usually has a greater voice than Mr. Hobert..."

Zimmerman, who was opposite, couldn't help but touch it. As soon as he spoke, Hobert slapped the table hard, "Don't mention him, you're annoyed!"

The four sons of O'Connor's family, the eldest son Hobbet, the second son Morey, the third son Joyce, and the fourth son Jean. Apart from Jean, who was the general affairs of the interior in Siliki, and Morey, who was locked up in Siliki as an idle man, were the eldest son Hobbet and the third son Joyce who had a fight for inheritance.

I think there was a dispute within the Duke of Amasil's house. Hobter might even have issued a military order. Now that Duke O'Connor is in poor health, the record of Northern Xinjiang is likely to determine the next inheritance.

"Although the natural guards suffered heavy damage, their achievements cannot be denied. Without the efforts of Master Hobert, the defense line of the Doin Plain might not be able to hold on, and the Tower of the North Wind might be first broken by the undead." Cyrill said calmly, "From this point, I don't think Joyce O'Connor will have the advantage of competing with you for inheritance."

"He, at most, he will lead troops. If he handed over the finances to him, Amasil's financial resources will be squandered within three years." Hobert rolled his eyes half-closed, and had not seen clearly who was sitting opposite him.

"This is true. Master Hobert is more versatile than Master Joyce, but..." Zimmerman subconsciously interfered, and the words he didn't say were "a lot worse than the young man in Siliki."

But he suddenly realized that the young man he wanted to praise seemed to be sitting opposite him?

"Earl Silici, why are you here?" He finally realized his identity and said seriously with a stern face. Both mages seemed to subconsciously ignore the person who was discussing the O'Connor family with him, the O'Connor family was about to face.

"Count Silicie?" Hobert opened his eyes, rubbed his eyes and looked at the boy in front of him, with an angry look on his face, "You, you sneak attacked our O'Connor's territory..."

"If you want to return to Amasil, it is naturally the most convenient way to go." Cyril seemed to have not heard what Hobert said, and said naturally, "Don't worry, we are not enemies, at least not now."

He took a sip of the dark brown fruit wine in front of him and took a sip. The wine was impurities, bitter and tasted just like normal. I don’t know how this young master Hobert drank it.

"Master Hobert, I have no intention of ridicule. Of course, the Guards suffered heavy losses, but their heroic performance is admirable, and the military achievements they have obtained are enough to satisfy your father." He turned to Hobert and said with great enthusiasm, "Out of respect for the dead, we Siliki will not attack the O'Connor's territory by January next year."

"You!" Hobert slapped the table hard, stood up, and was about to draw the sword, but in an instant, a cold light flashed in front of him, and the long sword on the boy's waist had pointed at his throat.

"Master Hobert, during this period, I hope you can carefully consider how to treat your neighbors-"

After Cyril finished speaking, he pulled back his sword quickly, then placed a silver terry on the table, silently glanced at the two professional-level mages, and turned around and left the tavern.

"The vassal of the vassal is not my vassal", this concept applies to the world view of [The Road of Race].

Although Duke Amasil did not cause trouble for La Rochelle like the southern nobles, he was not so tranquil. Otherwise, Solconan would not have "stoochly acquiesced" to Count Ciliki's civil war, and what the eldest princess said to Cililk was enough to prove it.

If Cyril wants to have enough manpower, it is inevitable to hold Amasil in his hand.

The only difference is how to treat the original Duke of Amasil and O'Connor.

The encounter in the tavern is a choice for Mr. Hobert.

As for whether he can grasp it or not...that is another matter.

———————

Although Siliki is located northerly, due to the Simatal Mountains, the winter cold currents have generally had little impact on it. In November, in previous years, you only need to wear a thin cotton coat, which is almost no different from on weekdays.

However, at the end of November this year, it was much colder than in previous years.

Misha Aishvan sat on a bench in the center of Siliki. The sunlight at four o'clock in the afternoon fell on her body, but there was no real warmth.

Not far away, she looked at the swallow nest built under the red eaves of the excellent bakery, and the gray-song swifts that were flapping their wings to feed the chicks - this weak "warfare" has a shiny gray feather that would make a pleasant singing voice before it rains.

The banyan willows beside them drooped with long branches, blocking the eaves, like the outer curtains of the bakery. Misha passed through the dark green like round pieces and the leaves that had already begun to turn yellow on the corners. She saw the orange-yellow sun that was just leaning on the top of the chimney of the house. In the smoke baked by the bakery, the sunlight had a hazy sacred sense of sunshine.

The fragrance floated out of the bakery when the bell of the college was ringing, and a group of children rushed out of the college gate woven by green vines. They spread their legs and ran quickly, but when they rushed to the door of the bakery, they all slowed down. They complained that they were not running fast enough and lined up with the words of the good brothers who regretted not holding the same class, and obediently handed their copper terry to the baker who opened the door.

"Misa, Misa!"

The little cat girl held the cloth bag, walked around the long queue behind her, and ran to Misha who was sitting on the bench. The cat's ears and light blue ponytails shook with the ups and downs of her body, and the cat's tail was raised high.

She looked at the elf lady on the bench with one hand, then stretched out her head and rubbed it. Then she sat on the bench and distributed the bread in the bag to the elf lady.

"What did you learn today?" Misha took the bread, and the fragrance penetrated into her nose. She looked at Tiffany and asked casually.

"I learned, word grammar, read a lot of books." Tiffany raised his head, licked the white debris on his face with his tongue, frowned and thought for a while, and finally shook his tail with relief: "I also ate charcoal-grilled pork elbows."

She shook her two calves that were out of reach. Misha reached over and scratched her chin. The comfortable cat girl took the initiative to put her face on her palm.

After the Siliki army left Siliki and went to the northern border, only Gene O'Connor and Misha were left in the top leaders in Siliki. As a cat girl, Tiffany herself did not have many human friends except Caroline, so Misha would arrange a few days a week to ask her to go to the academy to contact humans of similar sizes.

But more often, Tiffany spent her time tempering her own skills—although it was in the blacksmith shop.

It is hard to imagine that the little cat girl actually has a good talent in interpreting inscriptions. It is not necessary to say how difficult it is to understand the inscriptions that form magic circles, but Tiffany was able to quickly learn these - the inscription knowledge mastered by the Bringold dwarves of the Deka Mine was almost exhausted by her. Now the dwarf blacksmiths saw the kitten girl and her legs were weak.

Her weak power and petite body limit the kitten girl's combat ability. Although she performed well in the concealment and agility of the cat man clan, her slender arms and small fists were difficult to effectively kill the enemy even with a sharp dagger.

Now she has a delicate Misilian hand crossbow with her, which is used to protect herself. The pure Misilian crossbow is expensive. This is the treasure of the dwarf blacksmith master, because a bet lost to Tiffany. Of course, the dwarf is such an impulsive creature, and nothing is strange about it.

The sun is no longer visible, and the clouds in the sky are still decorated with the last bit of residual orange and red, which is connected with the blue and purple sky at night. The children in front of the bakery have also dissipated and have been taken home by the parents who have left work, and smoke is rising everywhere.

Misha let Tiffany pull her fingers and walked slowly on the path back to the lord's mansion.

"When will Sister Mia and Caroline come back?" Tiffany pouted and said sadly, "It's been a long time since I saw them."

"It should be soon." Misha's tone was still calm, "Didn't there be a war report sent back two days ago? They captured three undead strongholds. This is already a very impressive record for the size of our Siliki army."

"But they are not here, it's really boring." Tiffany gently kicked the stone under his feet, "Don't Misha miss them, Lord Lord."

"What's there to think about?" Misha shook her head, "will come back when it's time to come. Missing the response that can give people is not as useful as prayer. I guess they should come back when the red ivy shoots in the spring next year."

"That's too long. Eleven, twelve, one, two, three... It's almost half a year!" Tiffany shouted in dissatisfaction.

"Most of November has passed, but in fact it's only more than a season, not long."

"That's because Misha, you are an elf." Tiffany murmured dissatisfiedly, "Elf is an immortal species, and a few months are naturally nothing. If Sister Mia hadn't met the Lord for so long, she would probably have to make a circle in the room for a long time every day."

"Oh? Will Miss Mia still do this?"

"Yes, before we came to Siliki, she would send a long and long time in the yard every day, and she might not react if she poked her. Later, she got the letter from the Lord, and was as anxious as anything." Tiffany kicked the stone out of the street with force - the yard of the Lord's Mansion in front of her, "It's all Caroline, I didn't call me together before."

She watched the stone jump and roll onto the road, then stopped at a sudden stretch of foot, and rolled to the gate of the lord's mansion opposite without expectation, and couldn't help feeling a little dissatisfied.

But when she looked up and saw the owner of that foot, all the dissatisfaction or complaining disappeared-

"Meow!!!!"

She screamed, turned to the side and pressed Ramisha's sleeves, and realized that the latter had covered his mouth with one hand, and tears were almost rolling in his beautiful eyes.

"Long time no see." The owner of the foot waved his hand and bowed gracefully to the two of them.

"I'm back."

The moonlight shone on the young man's slightly mature side face, and his pointed ears shook slightly.

Cyrie's lord, Cyril Adrien, returned to his territory.

Misha finally stopped her uncontrollable excitement and put down her hand that was blocking her mouth. She smiled and nodded and went forward:

"Why did you come back so soon? There is no news at all--"

She said, while quietly looking at the boy with her eyes.

The wind and snow did not make the latter look very vicissitudes, but compared to two months ago, he had a little more ancient and heavy aura. She vaguely felt that the big books she had been holding in her arms were a little hot, not sure if it was an illusion or something.

"It's indeed quite sudden. Things in Northern Xinjiang are much smoother than I thought. I guess we don't have to worry about Northern Xinjiang's problems in the short term." Cyril bent down and reached out to rude the cat girl who was approaching her head twice, then scratched her chin, and then said to Misha:

"The army has not arrived yet, and they probably won't arrive until tomorrow morning. Some things need to be arranged, so I rushed back in advance."

"Miss Misha has to trouble this matter."

"Hmm?" Misha asked in confusion, "What's the matter?"

The young lord beside him took a deep breath, and there was a little sadness on his handsome face.

"The cemetery," he said, "we are going to build a cemetery."
Chapter completed!