Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 633: 635 approaching

Chapter 633 635. Approaching

Are they really going to give every commander a Warlock Guard because of your performance today?

Lincoln, with scattered armor pendants hanging on his body, was walking "clinking" behind Lan En.

Those are noble spellcasters. Is this how the Nilfgaard Empire uses them? Are there so many spellcasters for them to use?

Behind him, all the members of "Ember" also looked similar, with clothes all over their bodies.

Guerrilla warfare cannot count on stable logistical support, so all supplies must be taken from the enemy.

Lan called this kind of behavior that the enemy created for us without guns or cannons as a "good tradition".

Everyone didnt quite understand how this could be considered a tradition, but Lan En said it was a good tradition, so with their current fanatical reverence for Lan En, of course they would spare no effort to do it.

You still dont know your enemy, Lincoln. Read more.

Lan En said without looking back, conveying his thoughts to the young man behind him.

Unconsciously, he had greeted Lincoln as his adjutant.

The witcher continued calmly.

"You can hate the Nilfgaardians, after all, they really don't do much with people. But you shouldn't underestimate the power of a huge empire. They have many warlocks, there is no doubt about it."

"The social structure of Nilfgaard is based on slavery. Spellcasters in their country are high-level skilled workers, just like blacksmiths. The nobles use their rights and interests to 'domesticate' these people with supernatural powers. In their system. If you obey, you will be fine; if you dont, you will be poisoned."

Thus the warlocks of the south have long learned to obey blood and authority. So there can be no doubt.

As long as the commander of this war determines that winning the war requires a large number of sorcerers, then it is impossible that Nilfgaard will not be able to mobilize them.

Here, Lan En was still talking, and behind him, Lincoln had already taken out a small notebook to write down.

This awareness that a good memory is not as good as a bad pen is also one of Lan En's admired qualities.

"about there."

Lan En stopped in the woods. This distance was far enough away from the battlefield just now.

With a 'bang' sound, Lan En threw the man he had been carrying on his shoulders onto the thick humus in the woods. The dry leaves were shaken by the man's body wearing dark and shiny armor.

After being thrown from the shoulder more than two meters high, this person seemed to be shaken out of breath by the impact. He took a long and sudden breath from the dead-like coma, and opened his eyes. .

His eyes under his winged helmet were confused and panicked, and he obviously didn't know what was going on with him.

Lincoln, on the other hand, was already standing beside him with his own notebook, as if he was ready to record at any time.

Where is this? You...!

The man's confused eyes glanced around. At first he was still confused about the environment, but when the face that was taller than normal and even more handsome than an elf appeared in front of him, he immediately recalled it.

This is the 'demon' who slaughtered all his troops!

But wasnt he already killed by him?

That terrifying sword stabbed the front of his breastplate. Although the blade was not sharp and did not penetrate the armor, the impact alone was enough to rupture his internal organs.

It can be done now.

He touched the noticeable dent in the armor on his chest.

But before he could recover, a big hand grabbed his entire head from the side!

And with a 'bang' sound, the side of his face was pressed into the thick layer of humus on the ground.

In Lan Ens palm, an ordinary persons head is about the same as a large apple.

"Let me tell you in advance, I don't like torture." The fierce struggle in the hands seemed to be completely non-existent to the palm of the witcher.

If you could simply tell me the approximate time of the battle, I believe it would be easy for both of us.

Using his excellent knowledge of human biology, he accurately hit targets on fierce battlefields until they were almost in suspended animation, just to get information about the great battle without concealing it from the warlock.

In the eyes of the top leaders of both sides, a large-scale battle is as eye-catching and clear as an unstoppable torrent.

But among the chaotic grassroots, they can only feel the increasingly tense atmosphere, but they have no idea of the precise time.

Lan needs this information.

After all, since the tactical misdirection has been made, it is best to make full use of this misdirection in a large enough scene.

There is no more appropriate occasion than the coming great battle.

As expected, the Nilfgaardian officer who had half of his face pressed into the humus by Lan En could not speak, but his eyes showed that he would rather die than surrender.

Lan En didnt understand at first how someone who did such an animal act could have the mental support to die rather than surrender.

But later he understood that the created emotions of racial superiority and regional superiority were enough to make some people die for them.

So he threw the officer in his hand into the hands of his companions behind him.

"Leave it to you, let him speak. I will use the seal to confirm the credibility at the end."

Lincoln calmly put away the small notebook he had opened, nodded to Lan, and walked towards the Nilfgaardian officer who was being held up.

I will complete the task in two hours.

The half-year-old boy's tone was firm and relaxed, and the facts were exactly what he said.

Two hours later, Lan En got the exact start time of the battle.

If the war does not start, the large number of soldiers gathered together for a long time will not only not enhance the combat effectiveness, but may actually weaken the organization in the chaos.

Furthermore, the logistical pressure on both sides is reaching its limit.

So even if both sides try their best to delay, the latest start time of the battle can only be within five days.

I never thought youd get involved in whats going on here.

In the Northern Alliance military camp in Upper Soden, the Elf Archmage Francesca Fendalbe, known as the most beautiful face in the world, sat on a gorgeous and comfortable red cashmere chair, holding a silver goblet. Ask questions to the person in front of you with interest.

She has smooth and shiny blond hair, braided with traditional elven hair accessories, hanging next to her fair and delicate face.

Tissaya, was the last time we fought together three hundred years ago?

Ah, yes. I remember it too.

On the chair diagonally opposite Francesca, Tissaya looked strange and stumbled when answering.

The situation is very different from the situation of the supernatural power controllers in the south. Even in this tense and depressing military camp, the northern warlocks still add a huge social salon in addition to their independent tents. 's tent.

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