Scales of Eternal Order

In the golden tent of the Salem Tribal Center, the new tribal chief who has just been sworn in for less than a month is among them.

Perhaps in order to avoid a repeat of the tragedy that happened here before, there are two squad tribal warriors waiting here in turn. However, unlike Chief Hajar, who was able to easily call out each guard’s name, always loves, and the shortest of their gossiping parents, this young king of the Elf tribe always sits on the throne in the deepest part of the camp with all his heart.

“It’s also hard for this poor Hacknan. He just lost the brother who grew up with him, and then lost the father who sheltered him from the wind and rain.”

The warrior captain on duty couldn’t help being secretly sighed, but instead his mind was attracted by a eagle that hovered and landed from the sky. This kind of flying beast is a common postman in the desert. It only needs some fresh meat to let it cross several hundred li and deliver the message to the people in need.

Greeting to the others to continue to be careful, the warrior captain untied the letter box sealed with flame from the eagle’s leg. In the process of doing this, he has been very careful about the big bird next to him, for fear that it will treat himself as food because of hunger, and suddenly peck at himself-there have been several not so good memories before, so for this He doesn’t have much good impression of the bad-tempered postman.

Checked the letterbox and confirmed that the fire and gas seal was still intact. The warrior captain handed over the work of feeding the eagles to the other warriors. He turned around and opened the felt cloth in front of the golden tent and strode into it. . The newly promoted young chief sat on the throne in the deepest part of the camp, resting his forehead with one hand on the table in front of him. Hacknan noticed that someone had entered the camp and immediately stood up. After seeing the person’s appearance, he lowered his hand from the machete handle on his side.

“Sweat, there is a flying eagle message for you.” Captain warrior apparently also saw Hacknan’s actions just now, but he still maintained a calm and composure look for panic, and offered his faith with both hands. After getting permission to retreat by himself, the warrior captain bowed and withdrew from the slightly haggard chief’s golden account.

Hacknan picked up the knife specially used for unsealing the lacquer, carefully wiped the lacquer on the edge of the letter tube, and gently knocked, dumping the letter filled inside on the desk in front of him.

“Chief Hacknan personally…”

The text at the beginning of the letter made the young chief feel quite unhappy, thinking that he inherited the power of the former leader of the Salem clan Hajar Otto Hacknan, naturally, also inherited the ambition to become the co-owner of all desert elves. He still continued the habit of exaggerating the name of the chief as the Khan before in the clan, but didn’t expect, but in the end he was hurt by an assassin’s guild from the depths of the desert, the “villain residence”-Koptik.

One letter, two messages. One is extremely ordinary good news, and the other is extremely bad news. The good news is that the “decent” tailor shop successfully killed Epicurus, the head of the Chamber of Commerce, and his head will soon be sent to the Golden Horde of the Salem tribe; the bad news is that another assassination commission has a problem, that It is very likely that Hacknan’s “indecent” Blatche will be rescued by an absolutely powerful character, and the Assassin’s Guild will send back the prepaid mission entrustment and indemnity together with Epicurus’ head.

The angry young chief threw the letter high, pulled out a scimitar, and chopped it into four pieces before the letter hit the ground—this was the battle skill that Blatche gave him. “Cross Slash”, it’s just that the warrior, who Hacknan wanted to take the top level, could cut the letter paper into sixteen pieces in the same time.

“Don’t be blindly angry, especially when anger comes from the emotion of fear. You have to remember that fear is the killer of thoughts, and fear is the little Death God that brings complete destruction…”

A gentle word resounded in the young chief’s brain. Although Hacknan had tried several times to get rid of the advice that a voice brought to him, but in the end he would be defeated by Chunshun’s seductive voice, and he obeyed his instructions happily.

It is the same now, when he inserted a sharp knife into the heart of his father Khan Hajar Otto, and when he convicted himself of Master Blatche on the charge of killing the king.

Although I have been persuaded by this voice too many times, Hacknan still clearly remembers the first time I heard this voice.

After being redeemed by his Master from the giant dragon (he did not admit that he lost to a profit-seeking merchant leader), Hacknan’s self-esteem developed since childhood took a huge blow.

As the son of a failed chief, he got more contemptuous eyes than others after returning to the Salem tribe. Although he did not suffer the punishment of flogging because of his noble origin, the nobleman was still arranged to do some dirty and dangerous work that only a lowly slave would be forced to do-he was personally assigned by Hajar Khan to take care of “Chi Ying” The reproduction of the beast.

The son of the chief and the youngest warrior in the Salem tribe, from then on, every day all has to work with the slaves who don’t get a piece of body in the production nest of the blazing beast.

They need to put all kinds of materials into the sac-shaped cavity for the growth and development of the blazing beast’s juveniles, and at the same time use sticks to teach that they have just emerged from the cocoon and have not yet been The cubs controlled by the heart of the group of beasts simply obey the rules.

That period was the most difficult period of Hacknan’s life, and it was even a hundred times more difficult than receiving the severe Master’s training before.

In addition to everyday all having to endure heavy hard work, he has to breathe the indescribable stench inside the nest of production, while carefully dodge so as not to be “stick education” cubs within the body Burned by the blazing heat. On more than one occasion, he witnessed the slave who was doing the same job accidentally falling into the siege of the blazing shadow cubs, and finally turned into a humanoid coke.

This kind of painful torture continued until one day, a blazing shadow beast juvenile that had just emerged from its cocoon delivered to him a spar that it had held in its mouth before it was born.

That cub is much stronger than its counterparts, but it does not show the slightest violent tendency to attack like other newborn cubs. It just walked quietly to Hacknan’s side, spit out the spar sparkling with faint rays of light in its mouth, and then silently turned and left.

When the son of the toiling chief picked up the crystals spit out by the blazing shadow cubs like a ghost, he was not at all burned as he thought-he had seen many Have committed a slave encounter similar to negligent mistakes.

The crystal was held in the palm of his hand, just fitting his grip, and a comfortable micro-heat spread from the joint between the palm and the crystal to the whole body. It’s like a kind of luxury called a steam bath that Hacknan had experienced before. The extremely precious water resources in the desert have been turned into steamy catkins and brushed across the body. Not only relieves fatigue, but also infiltrates the soul.

It was also at that moment that his defense was breached by the ancient consciousness hidden in this spar. At the beginning, it was just a small piece of shreds that spurred the chief’s son’s mind. Hacknan not at all realized that this was the spar at work. He only felt that it was a self-talk of in the heart that he was overworked.

But as these words gradually turned into suggestions, Hacknan gradually felt that some of the spars that he had carried with him since that day were talking to him—he knew that he couldn’t rely on his own wisdom. The best way to figure out how to get out of the current dilemma is to be unable to figure out how to lead the soldiers to win more with less than the Sashan tribe.

“Who are you? Why are you hiding here? What do you want to do to me?”