Chapter 1122 Actions Against Arkhan

"Vlad von Carstein, son-in-law of Count Otto... But I'm still curious about one thing. Did you marry Isabella out of a desire for power or love?"

Walking in the endless yellow sand, Draknir asked with interest about the most important thing for Vlad.

Vlad looked normal, without being asked about the sadness of sensitive parts. He gently raised his palm, grabbed some sand from the wind, and watched them slowly slip from his fingertips.

"The kingship is not eternal. Even Setra would be troubled by ruling a dynasty of bones... But love is different. I will always remember Isabella's smile at the wedding, her beautiful figure dancing in a long dress...

The long time may symbolize eternity, but the touch of that moment is the driving force that supports me to live."

"You... are very different from what I expected." Even Draknir was quite touched by these words. Prince Caledor, who had not yet come into contact with vampires, originally thought that Vlad might have some moral conscience according to the stereotype, but the driving force that supported him to live was definitely not love.

It's power.

"What about you, young Prince Caledor, if you have to choose between your wife and the kingdom one day, what decision will you make?"

Draknir didn't want to answer this question. He firmly believed in his father's theory of the supremacy of the kingdom and could sacrifice everything for Caledor.

But after he really got married, he realized the significance of love to the elves. The kingdom can support the prince's firm will, but those soft corners need his wife to comfort him.

"Me... I'm still looking for the answer."

"Your father will definitely be sure of the kingdom... I can see the answer in his eyes, but the facts show that the two are not in conflict, as long as you don't make some low-level mistakes."

Vlad shook his head, perhaps thinking of Isabella's death...

The count took a deep breath, trying to ease his agitated mood. Perhaps he would be able to see his wife soon.

Draknir also took a deep breath. He was looking for the answer, but before that, he still needed to help Vlad do something.

"What is your plan? The key to the Black Pyramid should be in Arkhan's hands. The Lich Lord will not easily open the tomb of Nagash."

"Yes, Arkhan will not easily open the Black Pyramid before he gets all the Books of Nagash, and Settra will not let him get close to the Great Styx...

So we have to do something to drive him out of Nagashza and take the remains of the Necromancer to the Black Tower."

The Black Tower... Arkhan's base in Nehekhara. Logically, Settra would not tolerate a traitor settling in the endless yellow sand.

But just like the unclear relationship between Arkhan and Nagash, he also has a wonderful fate with Khemri.

Settra can defeat Arkhan with his excellent strategic awareness and strong military force.

But Arkhan's magic ability far exceeds that of all Khemri priests, and the two sides maintain a delicate balance.

Basically, Settra broke in, Arkhan fought hard, and then the latter surrendered to the Immortal Emperor, and then he defected after a while.

The two sides maintained this state for almost a thousand years, until Arkhan began to collect the Book of Nagash, and only then did the teacher and student teach and barely graduate.

Draknir nodded thoughtfully. This plan is good. As long as Arkhan brings the remains of Nagash back to the Black Tower, Settra will not miss this opportunity.

Arkhan was not completely annihilated in the past, maybe the Immortal Emperor was bored and wanted to find a guy to practice with to avoid Alzheimer's disease.

The Shining Front of Nehekhara did not gather like in the Alcadiza period, and only relied on the troops of Khemri to fight against Arkhan.

But if Nagash, who turned the entire Nehekhara into a land of the dead, appeared, the situation would change dramatically.

There is only one question, whether Arkhan will really go to the Black Tower.

After asking, Vlad shook his head and was not sure about it.

"Arkhan has spent countless hours preparing to resurrect Nagash. There is no guarantee that he has a plan after the fall of Nagash, so I need your help."

"There is a Caledor army stationed in the Badlands. I can contact the dwarves of Eight Peaks and Iron Peak to send troops together."

"No, not an army. I need you to show a sense of oppression to Arkhan, just like your father dealt with Katrin and... Manfred easily, blocking the retreat of the Lich Lord and forcing him to return to the Black Tower to accumulate strength."

Draknir thought for a moment. This plan is good. As long as Arkhan feels pressured, he will be forced to give up the idea of ​​collecting Nagash artifacts.

With the terrifying strength shown by Caledor and his attitude towards eradicating Nagash's forces, what is the safest way for the undead?

Live.

You all died, and I am still "alive".

"Interesting, but I didn't bring a dragon with me, I'm afraid..."

Vlad interrupted Prince Caledor's euphemism in a low voice, stared into his eyes, and said seriously.

"There is nothing to be afraid of. I need your strength. No matter what method you use, you must make Arkhan feel awed."

After a long pause, Draknir slowly nodded and agreed with this statement.

"I need some time... to find some reliable people. There are 76 dragon princes in the Dragonbone Wasteland, and they will all participate in this operation. If this cannot make Arkhan feel awed, the 50 dragon princes in the Dawn Fortress will also participate."

Vlad smiled with satisfaction, "I hope to see the power of the dragon army, but be sure not to crush all of Arkhan's servants. He needs to compete with Settra for control of the Black Great Pyramid."

After discussing with the vampire, Draknir met an unexpected person at the end of the World's Edge Mountains.

The black cursed armor and the iconic blood dragon helmet were Aboraash.

The ancestor of the blood dragon was wiping the blood off the sword with a rag. Judging from the remains of the rats around him, the rats entrenched near the Red Cloud Mountain had been scared out of their wits by his killing.

The messy red blade flags allowed Draknir to quickly identify the rat clans near the Red Cloud Mountain.

"You helped Caledor again, Aboraash. We have been looking for the traces of the Mors clan."

"Compared to this matter... I would rather end the last battle that was not satisfying, Prince Caledor Draknir."

The last battle... Draknir shook his head and said nothing. The last four-person melee in Nagarythe did not have a clear winner until the end.

Tyrion, Pakal, and Aborash, the elves relied on dragon armor to protect their bodies, while the lizardmen and vampires did not care about their injuries at all. He himself inherited his father's extremely strong physique, and they were all reckless men with extremely tenacious vitality. It was almost impossible to determine the winner in a short time.