In the territory of Baron Westhart in the north, facing the sudden change of situation, the remaining nobles naturally gathered together to discuss ways to deal with it.

The first floor of the castle is very large, but in order to defend against the enemy, the window is very small. It is timely during the day. Butter lamps must also be burned in the room. Under the shaking lights, dozens of log tables are placed around the circle. The tables are stewed, roasted, fried meat, and a small amount of vegetables.

Of course, there are also various wines with very low brewing levels.

Behind these tables were the nobles in the north who were not conquered by Sir Luther, who were discussing countermeasures while having a feast.

In the siege ahead, they had an early advantage, but then the reinforcements of the Frost Giant rushed over from behind, and they had to retreat their troops to avoid attacking on both sides and being wiped out. Generally speaking, they still won a small victory in today's battle.

The banquet scene is very lively at this moment, with each other flattering, praising and betting each other, and showing off each other one after another, like a noisy vegetable market.

But obviously, these nobles enjoyed this atmosphere.

The young man who escaped while besieging Palesburg was also here. He was the second son of Baron Sihart and the grandson of a mage family.

At present, Hart, the young master who would not inherit the throne of Baron, was sitting next to him with white hair and wearing a black fur robe. His servant, Sim, was sitting next to him.

"That bastard Luther actually colluded with the Frost Giant! If things hadn't happened so suddenly this time, I would have wanted to go up and cut off his fat pig's neck now!" A nobleman roared loudly, and whispered without restraint.

Although the nobles in the North have been passed down for hundreds of years, their bloody and barbaric nature has not changed.

As the noble roared, the other nobles also agreed, like a group of quarreling dogs.

In this circle, the most powerful Baron Sihart, who is currently the most powerful, has not spoken, but just watched the performances of everyone. After these people roared for a long time, Sihart drank the ale in his glass and slapped hard on the armrest of his chair, making a dull sound.

"If you have been shouting enough, it's time to discuss how to bite those dogs to death." Baron Sihart said with a generous chest.

He is a strong man. His figure is one head taller than a normal person and does not seem too excessive. His broad chest and shoulders make people feel that he is a very reliable person. The scars and one-eyed eyes on his face make people know that his strength is definitely not obtained through boasting and betting.

He is the most powerful of the remaining nobles. He is a warrior up to level 10. He can be said responsibly that he can kill everyone in this hall alone.

So when he spoke, everyone became quiet.

"We don't take Luther that trash seriously, but the problem is that he brought the frost giant that we dare not face easily. There are more than twenty frost giants." Sihart said in the voice of the muscles colliding, without any embarrassment, nor any intention of covering up the shame of himself and the nobles in front of him.

"They beat us and screamed, but we couldn't help but push them. This is the problem. We are not here today. Our purpose is how to deal with the waste we had originally despised, Luther, and his frost giant."

The scene suddenly became quiet.

"First of all, we need a real commander, and I think that person is me." Sihart said dullly. After saying this, the whole scene became quieter, and it seemed that even a needle could be heard.

The wind whistled through the window, setting off the blue faces of other nobles.

"Secondly, we need a reliable ally. It seems that we need to ask for help from the Dragon Nightmare. If there are other better choices, I don't want to choose the Dragon Nightmare. Otherwise, we will fall deeper and deeper in the slave's trap."

Speaking of this, the nobles became even more silent, only the butter lamps on their heads were burning in the wind.

"I have a suggestion." A fat nobleman raised his hand and stood up, saying, "I believe everyone knows what kind of beasts are those bastards in the Dragon Nightmare family. It is only a little better than the idiot Ruthor who ruled us."

He looked around and his beard, which had not been shaved for months, made his face look less fat.

"Everyone probably remembers my failure half a year ago. In that failure, I lost almost all my flowing wealth, and you have taken advantage of the situation to rob me." His eyebrows were frowned tightly, staring at the descendants of these bandits.

Facing his stare, the others drank and ate meat as if nothing had happened, or looked at him like a roadside audience, showing a very sympathetic expression.

"I think the warlock in the Black Castle may be a good choice." He ignored these unscrupulous lords and put forward his own ideas.

After making this proposal, the nobles behind him burst into laughter and laughed at him for having burned his brains and actually made such a stupid suggestion.

"Not to mention the ability of this warlock with a group of kowtows, just say that your failure under the Black Castle will give you all your face, let alone, the Dragon Nightmare family only cares about the castle not being occupied by evil wizards. Now you actually want to use their power, Montesquieu, are you really lard-covered?!" Other nobles laughed.

The fat man shouted: "Who are you still thinking that after we defeated Luther's rebellion and truly controlled the North, we still need to listen to the bastards of the Dragon Nightmare family? And as far as I know, a team of transport teams from the south are sending them to the Black Castle, and even the Dragon Nightmare family dare not stop him easily! What does this mean? This means that we can sell those gems to a higher price through the Black Castle warlock! Bypass the Dragon Nightmare family and trade with the South!"

As soon as this sentence was said, the whole hall became quiet, followed by a buzzing discussion, and there was a tendency to become more and more excited as the discussion was discussed.

Sihart seemed to listen to this suggestion. He asked his adviser for a moment. He was still the deputy commander of the mercenary group, and Duncan, the priest of the 10th level ice goddess.

"The Warlock Alliance with the Black Castle does not seem to meet the goddess' expectations. But the goddess has never had her usual ideas and preferences. Her divine intentions are as elusive as a blizzard on a glacier. Now Luther has mastered the opportunity. If we stick to it and don't form an alliance with others, we will be the first to step on history." Duncan, with a poker face, analyzed coldly.

Duncan had white hair, tied into a loose braid behind his head, his eyes half open, and looked like a poisonous snake that had just woken up from hibernation.

But he has always been the person Baron Sihart trusted the most.

After hearing Duncan say this, Sihart also confirmed his thoughts and did not clear the scene. He just started talking directly. When his voice sounded, the whole scene calmed down. This is where Sihart's power lies.

"Since that's the case, we will form an alliance with the mage of Black Castle. We are not clear about the attitude and thoughts of this mage, and we don't even know whether he has the intention to participate in such a thing, so we need a team of messengers to test their ideas with our gifts."

Sihart turned his head and looked at the nobles around him, and asked in a muffled voice: "Who is willing to go?"
Chapter completed!