Chapter 422: Troops March on the Winter Palace

The Bear God Ursun is among the weakest of the gods in terms of divine power; Kislev has only this many people, and besides having to share them with the other three local deities, it must also guard against the Empire gods to the south and the corruption of Chaos to the north.

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But gods are gods after all; while long-lived races might have a glimmer of opportunity, for Humans, whose lifespans do not exceed a hundred and whose physical peak does not surpass sixty, it is nearly impossible to overcome the favor of a god by their own strength.

"This guy's plan is truly well-calculated. Given the strength his son has displayed, the grand prize will likely fall into his hands. With one move, the matter is accomplished, and the raw materials that were originally difficult to utilize have turned into top-tier gear!"

Sinuoli crossed his arms over his chest and pondered to himself. He had communicated with Vladimir quite a bit over the past two days; this Boyar was far from as boorish as he appeared on the surface and possessed considerable political wisdom.

He also wanted a share of the Kislev faith pool. Logically speaking, the harsher the living conditions and the closer one is to Chaos and darkness, the more people need a spiritual pillar, and the more devout their faith becomes.

This world does not yet have a clear quantitative distinction between casual believers, fanatics, and the like, but Sinuoli believed there must be some difference among them.

"That Vampire has gathered a considerable force around her. Besides her own kind and blood thralls, they have also dug up quite a few corpse pits. The Undead under her command are both high in quality and quantity; you must make full preparations."

The Dwarf briefly summarized the intelligence he had gathered and turned to leave. How much he could gain was inversely proportional to the strength Vladimir would ultimately muster, but out of his own moral bottom line, he could not bring himself to act as an accomplice and sabotage the Kislevites' plan for self-rescue, so he chose to sit and wait for the result.

"Master, two Your Majesties, I need your help!"

The afternoon before the finals of the Great Sambo, Fulaji drank northern spirits while exchanging experiences on increasing Authority with his master. Kelage's down-to-earth Dwarven style and Fulaji's ingenious ideas from later generations complemented each other perfectly.

Time was tight, so both sides naturally would not haggle over the details of the terms. Three squads of elite Dwarves were ready for battle at all times, and they marched out of the residential area at a single command.

In the Old World, Vampire Counts had quite a market; it was an "open secret" that the Mousillon of Bretonnia and the Silvania province of the Empire of Man were ruled by Vampires.

This scene reminded Fulaji of his experience rushing to the aid of Bordeleaux from Weifengbao. Captain Salazar and the rotting leviathan beneath him had caused him to wake up in a cold sweat from his dreams many times. Who would have thought that not long after, even the master of the Graveyard of Sunken Ships, the Admiral of the Dreadfleet, Noctilus, would meet his end at his own hands.

Sinuolimier's original plan was to incite the garrison or even the civilians of Jisiwaifu Cheng to revolt. But facts proved he was too optimistic; the upper echelons of Jisiwaifu Cheng were now riddled with corruption, and the lower echelons no longer had a mass base.

Just as they left the city gate, a flock of bats appeared in the clouds, flickering in and out of sight. Sinuolimier stood beside the three Dwarves, and with his personal safety guaranteed, he commanded with composure.

"In the name of Motherland, I, Sinuolimier-Bohra, hereby swear!"

"That won't do. So, how many people have you gathered?" Kelage raised his eyelids slightly, playing the villain for his disciple.

"Trying to delay our speed and incidentally probe the bottom line of my master and us? Then I'll let you see what's what!"

Under the ravages of the third Everchosen, half of the original ruling class had withered away, and new and old forces fought incessantly for spheres of influence, only gradually stabilizing in recent years. It was precisely under this premise that the Vampire was able to usurp the position of Tsar.

"Happy cooperation, let us set off as soon as possible!"

"Give all future maintenance and new fortress construction orders for Karak-Kadrin, and the Dargo Axe will fight for you!"

This was exactly what the master and disciple had agreed upon; Vampires had flight capabilities, and the Dwarf Demigod could not stop them if they chose to flee. While this could easily solve the immediate problem, if the three of them left and the enemy returned, Sinuolimier would not be able to fulfill even the best of rewards, making them empty promises. "There is a large group of zombies and skeletons blocking the road ahead. Shall we charge straight through?"

"As you can see, I also hold Authority, and my requirements are the same as my master's. Of course, the old man takes priority."

"So I need the help of you and your guards. I cannot let go of the last chance to revitalize Motherland!" the Boyar declared loudly, seemingly building his mental fortitude for the conditions he was about to agree to.

"Perhaps he is holding back his strength, waiting to use it when we reach the Winter Palace?"

"Don't worry about the sky, just speed up the march!"

"That is not good news. Even the warriors of the north would have their vigor exhausted if they fell into a boundless sea of skeletons." Fulaji smiled slightly; Sinuolimier appearing here meant he was prepared for a major bloodletting.

Turmoil brings only deep suffering to ordinary people. Undead creatures are indeed disgusting, but how much better could living rulers be? If it weren't for the fact that Katarin couldn't even manage a barely passing grade, the residents in the city would have even leaned toward her.

"The sky?"

Considering that these Vampires did not need to levy crops and people could live and work in peace as long as they "donated blood" regularly, many commoners even went to great lengths to flee into their rule, which was quite like an otherworldly version of "The Snake-Catcher's Tale."

"How so?"

Fulaji curled his lips, took a few quick steps to the front of the formation, and rubbed his hands together, bringing up two whirlwinds that swept the low-level Undead to both sides of the road.

The limited wind brought by his Authority was far from violent, drawing waves of suspicion. In the stories of various bards, a Demigod should have the great power to change the world with a mere gesture.

"I am just the apprentice; the one with the beard dragging on the ground is the real deal!"

"That demon has already sensed your actions. If we set off now, we can reach the Winter Palace before Daz gives up control of the sky." Sinuolimier suppressed the anxiety in his heart and went straight to the result without detailing the process.

"Eight hundred, half of whom are elites!"

Fulaji also had a grasp of all this. Participants and spectators from all over who entered the capital only brought their personal guards—bringing a force of a thousand or eight hundred to a martial arts competition was tantamount to a confession.

"I'm familiar with Vampires at sea, and I don't know if there's much difference on land. I ran into the Red Duke back in Bordeleaux, and Fatisi was there too! I haven't heard any news of him in these years."

The Boyar took a deep breath and spat out the truth word by word. The youngest among these three Dwarves was old enough to be his grandfather; playing little tricks was meaningless. These men might be enough for an ambush in open terrain, but attacking a city would be no different than throwing an egg against a rock.

"Is this the strength of a Demigod? Why does it not feel that powerful?"