Augustus Under the Horseshoe

Julian calendar 420 years, Augustus month, the eighth day. (August 8, 420 AD)

Dacia Province·Fort of Terror

A few horses, all covered with gold jewelry, looked unusually wealthy, chose an open space outside the Terror Fort, scolded the slaves, and built a huge bonfire here. The shackles of the slaves were in the master’s Under the whip, carefully complete every work.

They brought a large number of tables from the inside of the fort, and circled a large circle around the bonfire. The table tops were covered with white sheepskins, and pottery bowls and plates were filled with freshly slaughtered and cooked delicious lamb. , Ancestral delicacies, and even the sweet wine snatched from Eastern Rome, the skyrocketing fire light will make the night red.

Even if it is now transformed into a semi-settled and semi-nomadic state, the people still like to hold grand banquets in the open field.

Pain Hess, Christina, and Christian, all dressed up under the service of six Teflin slave girls, are preparing to attend the freshman banquet hosted by the Howling Chief.

The six graceful, half-human, half-devil women were all female slaves carefully selected by the warchief. One of them was the illegitimate daughter of the King of Kings captured from the Persian War. They are barely clothed, and a few narrow pieces of fabric make their slim figure more attractive. The chains on their wrists, ankles, and neck are even made of gold.

The soft earlobes, the devil’s horns, the mountains on the chest, according to the great chief’s preferences, wear some gold jewelry, whenever they move, the gold chains on the ankles, and the pair of golden bells falling on the chest, There will be a crisp sound.

Teflin is really wonderful. Apart from the fact that he has no wings and has a blushing skin, his appearance is almost the same as that of a succubus. Therefore, the slaves of the Painhurs family are almost all female half-human and half-devil.

"In other words, the clan was annihilated not long after I was born, and the centaur is really a strange creature."

Painhurs opened his arms and asked the two female slaves to put on the mithril armor forged by the dwarves. Nomads say that there is no evening dress. The most indestructible armor is the best dress when they attend a banquet.

"I do the math, the chief of the Wind Howl clan seems to be yelling that her wife is pregnant before we attacked East Rome, and we have returned victoriously. It is only five months before we were born? This is entirely based on the horse's pregnancy rate. what."

"Yeah, is there anything weird? Sagittarius is about the same as other horses. They are pregnant in May, mature in three years, and then have a lifespan similar to that of humans. If you are lucky, it is not a problem to live between 60 and 70 years. The probability of pregnancy is a bit low. At most two births at a time, the excessively fast growth cycle is offset by the slightly lower probability of conception, which is still normal."

Christina also wore Chimera's armor under the gaze of several female slaves.

"Oh."

The warchief murmured, avoiding the fiery gazes of the two sisters, he heard a faint resentment in the words of his lover-I also want a child.

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The warchief wearing mithril full-body chain armor, holding Christina in his left hand and Christian in his right hand, amidst the frantic cheers of the tribe members, he calmly stepped into the venue, the stringed instruments of the horses and the orcs’ rock hits Playing music, Teflin’s lute, the flute brought by the Ostrogoths from Northern Europe...Various styles of music, melody and tunes, mingled with the excitement of hundreds of people, From the very beginning, the atmosphere of the banquet was elevated to the highest level.

"Just be quiet, be quiet!"

The lord of Wind Howl and the chief warlock of the Wind Howl clan: Al'Akir cleared his throat and stood on the wooden platform made up by slaves, looking down at the guests attending the banquet.

There was a happy smile on his weathered face. The big rough hand carefully picked up his child born this morning from the cradle and held it high above his head. The centaur cub, who was born less than a few hours ago, was extremely slender and thin. With big smart eyes, he looked down at everything under him curiously, not understanding what was going on.

Alakir's excited voice was trembling, and he proudly puffed out his chest and declared loudly.

"Congratulations! Everyone! The Horde, a new warrior was born!"

"Oh oh oh!"

"AlanNure Painhus!"

"WAAAGH!!!"

After a brief silence, the various guests who attended the banquet ignited the carnival atmosphere again with blessings of their respective races. The little guy writhed in his father’s hands uneasy, and cried out of fear by the noise, Aoraki Erhaha laughed, put the child back in the cradle, calmed down with his wife, and rejoined the banquet.

The carnival feast was held from night to dawn until dawn. Hundreds of people drank drunk, and at the same time, they were also dancing. The exhausted tribal elders pulled the sheepskin from the table and laid it on the ground. I started to sleep and looked at the soldiers who were in charge of the guard that night. They were speechless, so they had to re-draw a guard that had been resting to come to the carnival scene to guard and guard.

"Great Chief? Great Chief?"

"Ok?"

The warchief who had been partying all night was quietly awakened by the two guards. He clutched his head with a hangover, stood up dizzy in the open, and subconsciously searched for Sister Christina, and found that the two were quiet beside him. When he fell asleep, he set his sights on the guards of the centaur.

"Warchief, there is a letter that flew from the South, the Eastern Roman Empire-and this messenger is a bit strange. Just in case we put him in a cage."

Several guards pulled out an iron cage-the creatures in it were familiar to the warchief: a terrifying and terrifying head, slender, elegant, but wild and domineering, a perfect body curve, and sharp four claws. The wings that cover the sky, the pliable tail, and the amethyst dragon scales that cover almost the entire body, resembling amethysts.

A giant dragon, amethyst dragon.

But the strange thing is that the dragon was actually only the size of a cat. It was easily locked in a cage by two ordinary soldiers and soldiers. This rude treatment made the little guy yell, bite, and scratched the iron. The quality railings, but there is no way to scratch the slightest scar.

"This... pseudo-dragon?"

Painhurs looked at the creatures in the cage. Some dragon cubs who were just born were indeed about the same size as cats, but this type of dragon cubs are generally well taken care of in the dragon’s nest, even if they are captured by the elves. , Will be carefully taken care of and tamed by pointed ears, until they have combat effectiveness in adulthood, it is impossible to use them to deliver letters, which is too extravagant.

Then there is only one answer: this is a pseudo-dragon, which looks exactly like a giant dragon, but only the size of a cat for a lifetime. Some mages and warlocks are even proud of having a pseudo-dragon favorite.

"What happened? Who asked you to deliver the letter? What about the letter?"

Painhurs took the leftovers from the banquet and put them in the bonfire to re-bake them. Until the golden and crisp skin of the lamb leg was bubbling with oil, he opened the cage door to make the eyes completely The pseudo-dragon staring at the leg of the lamb regained its freedom.

"I apologize to you for my subordinates. I know that pseudo-dragons don't like to be stuffed into a cage so rudely, but they just follow the command line. This meal is regarded as an apologize."

The warchief then heated up another bowl of milk wine and waited quietly for him to finish eating.

The cat-sized amethyst pseudo-dragon eating is very funny. He is gnawing on a whole leg of lamb that is twice as large as his own. The small head is like a hole in the lamb. The pit came deeper and deeper, until the entire neck was stretched in. The amethyst scales are full of greasy dirt.

"Every~"

The satiated pseudo-dragon stroking its bulging belly, lazily collapsed on the table and burped.

"Well, for the sake of your sincerity, this lord forgave you. When the two guards put me in the cage, I was so angry that I was not ready to say it, hiccup~"

The little guy squinted his eyes and showed a pet contract to show his identity. Painhurs' pupils shrank slightly-is this fellow Honoria's pet?

Wait, he flew from the direction of the Eastern Roman Empire? What the hell?

"Pale horse, my beloved, hurry up to Constantinople and marry me, or your children and I will be in trouble."

The pseudo-dragon casually pushes down an armband from its front paws. This thing is an armband for cats, but it is a ring for humans-the gold ring is inlaid with a fingernail-sized, gorgeous purple crystal. .

It's really Honoria's thing!

But again, what happened? ! child? Doomed? I killed Breda on August 1st, and signed the Under-City Alliance with the Eastern Empire on August 2nd. The army returned to the Terror Fort on August 5th, and it was only 3 days after August 8th! The past few days have been busy counting the fallen soldiers, and the looted spoils, and there is no preparation for the marriage of the Western Roman Empire. What happened to Honoria? ? ?