The First Vampire

Chapter 592: 590 Raise troops_1
 

Winterfell City, Lion Roar Castle.

The burning fireplace banished the chill of early spring, filling the entire study with a warm atmosphere.

Vera lazily leaned on the sofa, holding an ancient sheepskin book to read. She wore a simple nightgown, and her white legs protruded from the slit of it, gently swaying in mid-air.

After a while, Vera reached out for the coffee cup on the table, only to find that it was empty.

She pulled a thin wire next to the sofa, and the sound of a bell could faintly be heard.

Immediately afterward, a respectful voice of a maid came from outside the door:

“Your Grace, what can I do for you?”

“Pour me a cup of coffee.”

“Alright, please wait.”

Shortly after, the maid pushed the door and entered, holding a tray.

Vera buried her head in the sheepskin book, not paying attention to the maid who came in.

However, the next second, she was startled by a loud clang.

Looking up, she saw that the maid had fallen onto the floor, coffee spilling all over the expensive woolen carpet.

“Molly? What’s wrong with you?” Vera initially thought that the maid had just tripped accidentally, but when the maid didn’t respond after a while, she sensed something wrong.

Vera immediately put down the sheepskin book and rushed over.

The maid had fainted on the ground, her face was blue and purple, and her breathing was weak.

“Help!” Vera hurriedly shouted towards the door.

In the hurried footsteps, a team of guards rushed over.

“Your Grace…”

The guard who led the team barely entered the room before he also collapsed to the ground, showing the same symptoms as Molly.

Vera was shocked and before she could react, she heard several more thuds.

The subsequent guards who came in all collapsed one by one, as if something in the room had made them unconscious…

“Don’t come in any further!” Vera immediately shouted, “There’s something wrong with this study!”

The guards outside stopped, anxiously shouting, “Your Grace, please leave the room first!”

But Vera stood still, scanning the room in an attempt to identify the problem.

Seeing this, the guards outside became increasingly worried, pleading with Vera to exit.

“I’m alright,” Vera responded, “Whatever it is, it is likely to be ineffective on me…”

At this point, Vera suddenly remembered something Colin had told her. She, as a follower of God’s favored, would not have fatal injuries unless her head was chopped off. Furthermore, she was immune to severe poison…

Severe poison?

Vera immediately realized: the air in the room was probably poisoned!

That’s why the maid and the guards who entered all fainted from poisoning, while she had been in the room for such a long time and was still unharmed.

But what was the source of the poison?

This was the core area of the Lion Roar Castle, heavily guarded. How could anyone manage to poison this room?

Unless…

Vera’s eyes moved and eventually settled on the oil painting “Knight Slaying the White Wolf” hung above the fireplace.

This was the gift given to the St. Hilde Family by the Troll Emperor Okamoto when he visited last time. Vera naturally understood the implied meaning of this painting and knew that it was Okamoto’s way of playing his cards right with the St. Hilde family. Therefore, she purposely hung it in a relatively private, yet not absolutely secret, place in her study.

But this painting…

Vera stared at the knight’s longsword in the painting, the blood dripping from its tip had somehow seeped out of the painting…

——————————

Outside the Troll King’s castle, the low horn echoed in the snowy wind, various banners fluttered in mid-air. Scores of troll soldiers gathered from all directions, forming an impressive army.

At a glance, this army boasted more than a hundred thousand soldiers.

But upon closer observation, one would notice that this was not what it seemed.

There were not many young, robust trolls among the soldiers. Instead, a majority were older, some even had disabilities. The army appeared to be made up of veterans who had been corralled back into service, and many not fully grown trolls.

Their equipment was rather shabby, with no uniformity in their weaponry. It looked like bits and pieces cobbled together. As for their armor, it was even more pitiful – aside from certain officers who had access to leather armor, most of the ordinary soldiers didn’t even have proper uniforms.

Despite being such a poorly equipped army, made up of the old and weak, their morale was not lacking and had an overwhelming sense of fortitude.

The news of Prince Otto, the Holy Warrior and White Wolf Witch King Squin’s assassination attempt on Colin Angler at the Holy Mountain had quickly spread across the Troll Empire, under Okamoto’s deliberate guidance.

A martial arts pinnacle, a religious leader – the sacrifice of these two influential figures in the Troll Empire had deeply shocked the hearts of all trolls.

It also made them realize, their race had come to the most critical moment.

But precisely in this urgent moment, the united will within the Troll Empire had shown up in an unprecedented way.

Whoa—-

The sound of the military horn changed to a high pitch, then abruptly stopped.

The trolls immediately quieted down, their eyes staring intently at the temporary platform built in front.

On the platform, a stake had been erected, and tied to it was the Queen of the Troll Empire—

Nala St. Hilde.

She was dressed only in a thin gown. At this point, she was completely frozen but stared with hateful eyes at her husband standing in front of her.

“I’m sorry… Nala…”

Okamoto whispered softly, without turning around, perhaps unable to face his wife’s burning gaze.

“Okamoto, You will never succeed! The North Territory will never succumb to the trolls…he…he…”

Shh!

A flash of silver light.

Nala’s throat was slashed open by a blade.

Okamoto, holding a dripping sword, was shaking, it was unclear whether he was tremoring from guilt or excitement.

Prince Abbas by his side looked at Okamoto surprisingly, his lips moved as if to say something.

According to their plan, they were supposed to burn this woman of the St. Hilde family alive to solidify their resolve for the southern invasion.

But now, Okamoto had prematurely killed this woman—compared to being burned alive, slitting her throat was merciful indeed.

“Ignite the fire!” Okamoto giving the order in a low growl.

Whoosh!

The stake got ignited and the vigorous fire quickly consumed Nala’s body under the stimulation of the cold wind.

Okamoto still did not turn around to look back, only sweeping his gaze slowly and determinedly across the gathered army in front of him.

“Warriors of the Troll Clan!

Prince Otto, the Holy Warrior, and White Wolf Witch King Squin have already set the stage for us with their lives. Now, it’s our turn to earn a glimmer of hope for the revival of the Troll Empire with our lives!

I cannot guarantee victory in this expedition, but I can assure you that as long as I have a breath left in me, I will not stop the march south!”

Okamoto, his voice hoarse, roared with all the strength he had:

“March!”