My Wife, King Arthur

Chapter 327: Vampire Acad

PS: It's almost New Year's Eve, update dragged to get tangled.

PS1: I don't have a notebook, should I go home for New Year's Eve?

PS2: Too often I get dragged out to drink so I can get tangled up. I don't get my drinks on. Damn, what a mess you are!

PS3: Do you want to move out of the house or do you want to go to work in Macau to get into trouble...

PS4: Above.

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[The taste of death, ahahahahahahaha...]

Are you happy? Dracula? Everyone is in front of you...]

[Feel the appointment? Dracula? When all hearts are pierced...]

Are you happy? Dracula? At a time when the blood of all is refluxing with sorrow...]

[How, Dracula, how, Dracula, Dracula!!!

“Shut up, uh... Shut up, shut up...” Absolutely dead, stuck by dozens of spears outside the city, and he couldn't die any more. Dracula actually moved up a little bit, his fingers trembled slightly, then his eyelids started beating, and eventually the whole person started moving, living like a real living person.

No, let's just say he's a living man.

He's just a stiff living man.

He wanted to break free, but was plunged into it by long spears from all sides, pierced his body firmly and then into the earth. He was firmly anchored to the land, and the former puncturer was pierced, and he couldn't even enjoy a move, not even a normal death.

It's a dark sense of humor, I must say.

“Hey hey...” Inspired by this dark sense of humor, Dracula laughed low, laughing with self-derision and irony.

“The so-called monster, is that me...”

“So the so-called despair is me...”

“The so-called loser, is that me...”

“Ha-ha-ha... ha-ha-ha...” Dracula chuckled.

Losers, negative dogs, residue, ignorance and filth, is that him? Is that him?

He laughed endlessly, and the depravity, the failure, the pity, the despair.

Blood...

Gathered up in the lowlands and lowered his head to look at his decadent face in the dark red lowlands and he stunned.

A face full of death but unable to die.

What am I?

He asked himself that and looked at the depths, and he was stunned. He should never have had so much blood!

So whose blood is this?

He turned his head hard and looked at the blood flowing down the bend and twisted, knowing that the Macedonians would come after every battle to collect the bodies, and that he had not said anything about the corpses of 500 people, because many of the fighters had fallen with the enemy, so he acquiesced in the corpses of the Macedonians for the remains of those fighters.

These bodies are all piled up and burned, and every night a giant torch can be seen lit, a giant torchpad of fat-burning oil mixed with human body oil, which is a habit of Macedonians (in fact, this habit is enforced only after Kerall has shown the hazards and pathways of the plague. And where did the bloodbath in front of him come from?

Dracula looked hard in that direction, and then his teeth cracked.

That is the sea of the blood of the people of Dracula.

The drip of blood flowed down the winding ramp into his slump...

Why is he resurrected?

No, in other words, why can't he die?

I don't know why Dracula had an idea in her heart, and then tears burst out. But at this time, he sprayed out of his tear glands no longer with salty tears, but with sweet blood.

He didn't know where the power came from, and he was born to pull out spears all over himself.

Then he laughed low, stuck with dark red objects like blood, and Dracula seemed to change completely from a solid to a liquid shape.

Something called blood formed a cloth-like solid like a cape, and then he followed the walls of the city like a phantom, and then instantly the dark mist of the guardian's eye vanished in front of them.

“What just happened?” A guard was somewhat confused to ask his comrades around.

“I don't know, it seems a little windy.” The other is also very confused, this is the land of Macedonia, no one but two guards is likely to attack this side, so relaxed, and today is the day of victory, the two of them are not carnival here to guard the night, simply not sleeping is admirable to Macedonian military discipline.

Dracula was like a fog, like a cloud of blood sneaking into the carnival, “once” of his castle.

The castle is raving, every Macedonian soldier occupies a home, and then he drinks and raves, and he leaves a lot of food behind in the city, and for a while he forgets something like that, just because Dracula is very upset, he even wonders if he can spare a grudge and go to a fire and burn down the granary? The fire is likely to burn down hundreds of thousands of kilograms of food directly, or even affect Macedonians in the city. If it is not handled well, it is not impossible for almost 100,000 Macedonians to be burned here!

Dracula was heartbroken, but then there was a faint smile, people who had already lived once again were still so blind.

He entered his inner castle like a wind, a place where he could in fact still organize an effective defensive circle, but he abandoned it because of the pride of the Romans, when the situation was no greater than death, and he had no intention of continuing to defend it.

In fact, his inner castle is much better than the outside, and only a few hundred people in the city can take advantage of the narrow terrain to defend it for days, and if you don't mind, even the Macedonian and Roman fighters of the same size attacked the castle with casualties of 2: 1.

But Dracula doesn't care about that.

He just wants to find Alexander, the king of Macedonia, for the last time.

He walked gently into his “once” lobby.

The hall, which is still lit, has been replaced by its owner.

There was no Roman elegance in that tallest seat, the Greek elegance, with his characteristic tough temperament, his slaughter decisiveness written on his face, like a rocky eyebrow and thick lip peak no doubt not indicating the masters' atmosphere and hardness, he was like a mountain peak, two meters tall sitting in that tallest seat with an absolute momentum, holding a huge bowl, he said aloud and proud: “This victory is thanks to the strength of the monarchs and the warriors, here, a toast to you! ”

Dracula, look at this. It's using his soup bowl!

Obviously, a bowl of soup that only a few people can drink usually gets bored by Alexander.

There are people from other tribes sitting on the left, and Alexander's generals sitting on the right. When they hear Alexander, everyone takes a glass and drains it. They're not Alexander, they don't use that kind of soup bowl, they use regular glasses.

Of course it's Camelot's wine, Camelot's wine is famous all over the world, and all thanks to that wise man, Dracula sighed, and now he finally knows why he's so much more attached to that wise man than he is to that wise man.

What's missing in Rome?

Rome has no shortage of men, no shortage of power, Rome has no shortage of money!

You're right, Rome needs money!

Rome's annual purchasing power is staggering and the speed at which silver coins are manufactured is simply not commensurate with consumption, while higher levels of Uruk gold coins are constantly squeezing the purchasing power of Roman dinars, whereas to date the Roman market, where three dinars could have bought a large bag of wheat, has risen to five dinars, where a good female Arab slave could have been bought, but now a Uruk gold coin is needed.

Even if inflation is strong, even if taxes are high and the territory is more populous, Rome is a fluttering pin in the storm, almost waiting to be destroyed by the storm.

And a barbaric place in the Camelot region, with its diverse good wines, good quality food, abundant agricultural by-products and horse trade, beat the Roman Empire to perfection. No wonder His Majesty was so upset.

Dracula, of course, didn't know that it was still in her arms and that she didn't know what percentage of the girls were in it, so he walked in.

Every step of him carries something damp, that bloody sticky thing nobody thinks is water.

“Who are you.” Even in the face of a weirdo wrapped in blood, Alexander did not have any fear or hesitation, but rather asked abnormally.

Today Dracula is not, of course, a general of the Six Macedonian Squares who was sparkling with armor at the time. Just one night, his combed, curly hair soaked in a root of blood emitted a dark red and evil light. His eyes were red, as if they were rolling maliciously. His face was covered with sticky hair and he could not see who he was.

“I'm Dracula.” He said calmly and calmly that his voice was uniquely hissed and that the charm of a mature man emanated from him, but that sentence stood the whole hall like a bomb.

These people are not armed, but nobody is afraid of him. These are good boys, watching a group of people burst out killing Dracula, sighing in his heart, looking up, Alexander sitting at the top didn't even wrinkle his eyebrows, this kind of king let Dracula kill for a while, can His Majesty the yet naive Emperor really fight this kind of man Jie?

Dracula doesn't understand.

“Oh, I can't believe you're not dead!” Alexander was delighted to widen his eyes, and he raised his bowl as if he had reached out: “What do you say, do you want to go to me?!?” (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to vote on recommendations, monthly tickets (qidian.com), and your support is my biggest motivation.)