"The demons that landed in the Western Wilderness have been defeated, and the remaining demons are fleeing to other regions, but they are not in the climate, there are garrisons everywhere waiting for them, and soon, this land will calm down."

While the demonic threat engulfed the entire world, Stormwind remained calm in the south, as if the affairs of the outside world could not affect the core area ruled by the Darkblade Legion.

Leaning back on the chaise longue, Tyrion was drowsy, the Realm of Death had a greater impact on his soul and will than he had imagined, and he needed a period of recuperation to recuperate, while beside him, Mr. Van Cleef, the Speaker of the Federal District of Defia, an old acquaintance of Tyrion, and now showing signs of baldness, was sitting in a chair drinking hot tea.

Judging by his hurried gesture, it seemed as if he had just returned from somewhere else.

"The mood of the people in the Wild West is quite calm, they have seen the scene of the Darkblade Legion fighting demons with their own eyes, and from their tone and demeanor, they have a deeper sense of belonging to the Federal District."

A hint of satisfaction flashed across the calculating Speaker's face, and he whispered:

"The Farmers' Federation has strongly demanded that the council increase the number of Darkblade soldiers in the Wild West, and it looks like our people are indeed terrified."

"But that's not enough, Van Cleef, my old friend."

Rubbing his forehead in an attempt to temper the voice echoing in his head, Tyrion said:

"Just a temporary crisis is not enough for our people to realize how happy their lives are, and the war in northern Xinjiang will soon enter a period of confrontation, and I have an idea that under the condition of ensuring safety, we can let our parliamentarians, as well as some people's representatives, go to northern Xinjiang to have a look."

The voice of the King of the Dark Blades was low and calm, not at all impassioned as the great hero who had just saved the world, and after slashing the great demon who was trying to invade the world, he barely had much rest before returning to his daily work.

"Official propaganda will always be interpreted as a concealment of the truth, and the people's curiosity about the "truth" cannot be suppressed, they are eager to see the truth under those worlds, but unfortunately, the people only trust their own eyes, although many times, their eyes do not see the real truth... But that's okay, get our people out of our shelter and see the cruel world out there..."

"Yes, that makes sense."

Speaker Van Cleef, who has grown into a qualified politician, rubbed his beard on his chin and said thoughtfully:

"A condolence group, or several, can send out those parliamentarians and deputies who are strongly wary of the Federation, and see the living conditions of the compatriots in the northern Xinjiang who have been attacked by demons, they are our compatriots after all, and our people will naturally make a choice when comparing their living circumstances with each other..."

"Yes, you are all human beings, with the same blood flowing in your veins, and should not be forcibly divided into two camps by different civilization systems, if we claim that the rule of the Federation is more civilized than the Empire, then we should show our own civilized side..."

Tyrion picked up a cigarette roll casually, he didn't touch these things before, and it was difficult for the undead to have the pleasure of smoking, but not long ago, his good friend Zangier in the Valley of Thorns sent some "spiced" cigarettes, and these small things quickly became the most popular enjoyment within the Darkblade Legion.

The King of the Blades rolled his cigarette on the candlestick and lit it, and then took a deep breath of smoke, he was not an old smoking gun, so when the spicy gas entered his body, he had a strange feeling of being choked, but with the burning of the cigarette, the strange aroma made his groggy brain sober up a little.

"Uh"

Tyrion exhaled a puff of pale smoke, the undead did not need to breathe, so the way they smoked was different from that of humans, they did not indulge in the addictive properties of tobacco, but instead enjoyed the spicy and calming sensation contained in the cigarette.

"In Gilneys, under the protection of your masked werewolf brothers, there are nearly 100,000 civilians displaced by the ravages of natural disasters and undead, and when the fighting in northern Xinjiang is calmer, they will be sent back to southern Xinjiang, and I hope that the Federation can absorb these populations as quickly as possible, because after them, after the complete peace in northern Xinjiang, the werewolves of Gilneth will also be integrated into the federal system."

Tyrion looked at Speaker Van Cleef, and he said:

"I know our people have experienced the feeling of freedom, but I don't want them to have racial discrimination, I can guarantee that those werewolves can control their inner irritability, and they will also become a significant part of the population of the Federal District in the future, speaking of which, those plans in the South China Sea, are they still going well?"

"Quite well, the pirates sent back thousands of people one after another, we didn't put those marauding creatures in the Western Wilderness or Shining Gold Town, we sent them to Red Ridge Mountain, which is the most popular place in the Federal District, where the mountain people will not be polite to these stinky pirates, and under their "education", it may only take a few years for those plundered sea people to become people who keep to themselves. ”

The Speaker also lit a human tobacco, and the two men discussed their imaginary future of the Federation in the midst of a cloud of smoke.

"I'm more worried about the demons now, as you said, there will be no large-scale invasion of demons in the later stage, but small-scale infiltration will spread throughout the world, which means that the Federal District will inevitably be affected."

The Speaker flicked his cigarette ash and came up with an immature idea of his own:

"Perhaps, we can relax the restrictions on civilian ownership of weapons and let the people protect themselves."

"Hmm... The idea is risky, Mr. Speaker. ”

Tyrion shook his head:

"An untrained adult, even if he is armed with the most advanced repeating cannon in the Black Iron Zone, it is difficult to confront a brutal demon defender head-on, you have also been on the battlefield, Edwin, many times, it is not the merits of the weapon that determines the victory, but the mind and will of the warrior, in this respect, civilians are at an extreme disadvantage compared to demons."

"I can't hand over extremely lethal military weapons to our people who are not ready, so the restrictions on civilian possession of weapons should not be changed for at least the next 5 years, medium-caliber shotguns, and downgraded muskets are the bottom line of civilian possession of weapons, and the dwarf craftsmen in the Black Iron District are recently developing some civilian pistols that are sufficient for self-defense, I believe that these are enough to meet the needs of the people for self-security."

"If they encounter low-level demons while they are working, then a few shotguns are enough to be honest, low-level demons are not as terrible as you think, besides, the federation is not at peace, it is too risky to let go of weapon restrictions during this sensitive period, the undead themselves are not afraid of firearms, but you are different."

The King of the Blades put his cigarette in front of his eyes and looked at it, and between the flames he spoke:

"But, what you said also makes sense, the inner turmoil of the people will eventually turn into the seeds of chaos, and then be abused by some guys who are not willing to be lonely, since the people have needs, then we should meet them... Well, in the near future, I will inform the garrisons to open up a special wartime supply system. ”

"If the people feel that they are not safe, they have identification and a certificate issued by the town, and pay a certain amount of money, they can rent the undead infantry at the Gloomy Blade military supply offices in various places, and a family can hold up to 20 undead infantry as escorts for a period of 1 month, and the contract can be renewed at the expiration of the term... 20 undead infantry, after forming a battle formation, can resist at least twice the attacks of low-level demons or single-digit high-level demons, buying time for the people to evacuate or wait for support. ”

"And what if some people want to keep these infantry permanently?"

Edelman. Speaker Van Cleef made a little joke, he smoked a cigarette, coughed twice, and said with a smile:

"I don't think that after seeing the loyalty and reliability of the undead infantry, the rich will continue to hire less reliable bodyguards."

"Forever kept?"

A smile tugged at the corner of Tyrion's mouth, and he pondered for a moment before nodding:

"Yes, you may not know, Mr. Speaker, although the undead infantry is the lowest level of the Darkblade military system, they also have their own weak thinking and reason, as long as the people can rely on themselves and reach a consensus with the undead infantry, I don't mind that they will keep those reliable guards forever... Of course, for the sake of the federal finances, it may be necessary to pay sky-high taxes to keep an undead infantryman. ”

"After all, undead infantry is also a special weapon, and if their consciousness awakens and enters the realm of low-level knights, they are much more dangerous than weapons such as repeating machine guns."

———————————————————————

After seeing off the Speaker, who was always in a hurry to walk around the Federation, Tyrion was the only one left in the peaceful mansion.

His wife and children are still on vacation in the world of Draenor, and most of his subordinates have been sent to the northern battlefield to fight with demons, and he should have been there, but unexpected circumstances have forced him to rest for a while.

Fortunately, each lord of the Darkblade Legion has enough wisdom to deal with the crisis, and is not as passive as the lords of the Scourge Legion, which can also allow Tyrion to recuperate with peace of mind.

He didn't bring an escort, changed into a black casual clothes, and walked slowly in the evening twilight on the renovated church square in Stormwind, under the rule of the Dark Blade, there was no longer an official worship of the gods, but the faith within the people was not too prophetic, and on the edge of the original church square, a simple chapel was rebuilt, where there were only a few priests, the most famous of which was the former chief paladin of the western wilderness.

Grian. Stallman, the once brave paladin, laid down his weapon, took off his armor, put on the priest's robes, picked up the sacred scriptures, and began to continue spreading the faith of the Holy Light in the land ruled by the undead, he thought that his actions would be hostile to the undead, but no, on the contrary, at night, there would even be some strange death knights who would come to sit in the church for a while.

Of course, these knights did not come to take refuge in the Light, they just came to this church to reminisce about their past lives.

At first, Pastor Stallman was a little uncomfortable with this kind of scene, but now, he has become accustomed to it, and today is the day of the sermon, and in front of the small church, there are many civilians gathered, and Pastor Stallman, with the help of his assistants, spreads the teachings of the Holy Light to the civilians.

Speaking of which, Pastor Stallman's assistant was not an ordinary person, his name was Morgan. Moradium, a Paladin veteran from Nighttown, "surrendered" with Chief Stallman when the Kingdom of Stormwind fell a few years ago, and now, Pastor Moradium has a perfect family, they live in the Old Town of Stormwind, and a year ago, Pastor Moradium had a lovely daughter.

He named her... Lola, the former fierce warrior, is no longer mighty, and it is not uncommon to see the smiling Reverend Moradium taking his wife and children fishing in the harbor of Stormwind at dusk, enjoying his own family fun.

Tyrion blended in with the crowd and listened to the sermon in its entirety, he could feel the sincerity of the crowd around him, but he didn't get angry or immediately draw his sword and completely destroy the church in front of him.

Because there is no need to...

The Holy Light itself is a neutral force without feelings, it will only be filled with a special will because of the carrier of power, in other words, maybe one day in the future, there will also be paladins in the Darkblade Legion, those warriors who voluntarily stand up and fight in order to protect the rule of the Federation and protect their homeland, and follow the Holy Light warriors behind Tyrion.

Seriously, he's looking forward to that day.

Moments later, Tyrion arrived at the Chamber of Secrets beneath the Cathedral Square, where he had made many decisions, some of which had a profound impact on the world, and the existence of this Chamber of Secrets was a secret within the Darkblade Legion.

In front of the eyes of the King of the Dark Blades, a special wooden coffin made of wood carved with runes was placed in the darkness, and under the open wooden coffin, there was a dark liquid, or strange gas, floating endlessly at the bottom.

"Are you really going to do that?"

Tyrion's Vagriagasa stood next to the wooden coffin, her tone tinged with concern:

"You see, Tyrion, this method of increasing the power of the soul is only theoretical... And Apocalypse, do you really believe in the promise of that magic blade? ”

"Why not?"

Tyrion stripped off his clothes, leaving only his underwear, he looked at the wooden coffin in front of him, at the end of the coffin, the black fire burning, the demon blade that was undergoing self-elevation let out a low hum, and the next moment, Tyrion closed his eyes and lay down in the coffin.

"Wow"

Agasa hesitated for a moment, but finally, she reached out and placed the heavy lid on top of the coffin, and the light in front of Tyrion's eyes completely dissipated, and in the darkness, his body slowly sank into the swaying black mist.