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Sultan stood in front of the prison of his second son who loved and hated with a complicated expression.

"Dilaman, my good son..."

"Father!" Dilaman quickly grabbed the iron fence, his eyes were red, and his expression was grim. "Father, I thought about it for several days, and I think there is a loophole in our defense. If the British could send the cannonballs to the dock, We have accumulated too much oil there..."

"You must have heard what happened last night, brother."

A slender figure suddenly appeared behind the sultan, Ella Manh bin Said, the prince of the sultanate, and the biggest frustration after Dilaman was favored.

His face was shining sickly red.

"Your conspiracy was successful. We personally buried the entire coastal fort. The fire is still burning. In order to prevent the fire from spreading further, my father had to order the building close to the pier to be flattened and 72 households were displaced."

"My conspiracy... succeeded?" Dilaman was dumbfounded, "How is it possible? Our coastal artillery has an absolute advantage in range. Even if one or two stray bullets ignite the fuel, it shouldn't be difficult to put it out..."

"Milani Castle." Ella Manher grinned, his mouth turned upside down, but his voice was clearly indignant, "The attack was launched from Milani Castle. Hundreds of artillery shells fell from the sky, and the entire turret was attacking. Scope. All the oil was detonated because of your suggestions, because my father believed in your suggestions."

"British...British..."

"It's not just the British? It's the Hasadi family of Liaman who is stationed at Mirani Castle. They are a buffer for us to achieve peace with the Imam. To put it bluntly, Hasadi is the patriarch's person, more than a hundred There was only one exception during the year..."

Ella Mankh bared his teeth, and each syllable was stretched to the longest by him.

"Bashar Hasadi, your staff colonel, where is he?"

Upon hearing that name, Dilaman was like a sinking ice cave.

He understood his fault at once, and was accidentally released from Lorraine. All he was thinking about was how to persuade the Sudan to be vigilant and persuade the Sudan to guard, so all he took away was the "old Muscat" who was close to the royal family. I completely ignored the feelings of those subordinates who followed him but did not associate with the royal family!

He didn't even tell them the reason, because Lorraine didn't give him a chance, and all the generals were locked in one cabin. He could only stay far away and was not allowed to talk to anyone.

This is... a conspiracy!

Diraman was shaking with anger, clutching the iron bars of the cell, madly screaming: "This is a conspiracy, a conspiracy! A despicable Englishman, a despicable heretic! He deceived Bashar, deceived Bashar!"

Ella Manher smiled coldly: "Cheating? I took someone to check the luxury house of the Hasadi family today, and they went to the building to be empty!"

"That's because the British deceived him! Bashar thought he was abandoned by the royal family, maybe he would think this was the beginning of our attack on the Hasadi family, and of course he would steal his family..."

"This is far-fetched! My brother. Because no one knew about the departure of your fleet privately. Unless you or your people have the support of the British, they will never be able to surround you and Bashar Hasa. Di makes a plan."

"Internal response?" Dilaman was stunned, and the blood rushed to the top of his skull only for a moment, "It's you!"

He yelled at Ella Manher.

"You told me that an English fleet had stolen into the mouth of Muscat Bay. You told me that they were disrespectful to their father. You told me that if they sink their father, they will rejoice..."

"You are spitting blood!"

"I do not have!"

"Father!" "Father!"

The old sultan felt that his head was about to explode.

Two sons... The boss is supported by the old Muscat nobleman Jalali family, and the second is passionate, talented, and popular and loved by him.

They were his best heirs, but now...

The old sultan rubbed his eyebrows: "Dilaman..."

"Father!"

"You said the Hasadi family was deceived by the British, and you were deceived by the British..."

"Yes, yes, father!"

"Then prove it to me." The old Sultan waved his hand and dropped the key to the cell. "The coastal fort was destroyed. It doesn't matter. As long as Milani Castle returns to our arms, Muscat will remain our indestructible saint. Tomb."

"Yes!"

...

January 16.

It has been three days since Lorraine went ashore.

Nothing new happened, and Hasadi did not meet him.

The pros and cons of the night of Burning Port are hard to say. At least in Mirani, the whites and the Arabs split into two distinct groups.

White people occupy all the open-air areas of the castle, including the roof, city walls, staircases and piers, just like the novels read by Lorraine I, living a life similar to a tree.

The Arabs occupies the undisclosed places, towers, turrets, gun walls, no sky, silent, and the pattern of life is like a shuttle in a mine.

Lorraine suddenly thought that the dwarves and elves in the novels seemed to coexist with confrontation and cooperation, and their confrontation in the background was much longer than the awkward coexistence in the story.

It's like an unpopular reality.

After all, the story can be a story only because there is often an evil dragon that feeds on two races at the same time.

The two races that are not pleasing to each other are united because of the evil dragon's aversion, coexist in unity, cooperate in unity, seek each other's strengths in unity, or fabricate some of the other's strengths.

The evil dragon is the root of a good life.

"But... where is the evil dragon?" Lorraine leaned against the battlement boredly, kicked the brick wall and said to him behind him, "Go and ask Mr. Aziz. It's time to digest, it's time to tell the story."

Aziz is one of the twenty-three Omanis who have actively become "friends" these days. Unlike those friends who like to relax, believe in collapse and punish sellers for glory, Aziz is special.

He is a semi-civilian officer. The flagship of the Bagara Guard is in charge of Marshal Manzeri and ranks as Lieutenant Colonel.

He is an undermined noble, and he can barely be regarded as a nephew of the Marshal Lord in terms of seniority.

He is also a historian, specializing in the 6th to 7th centuries, the most rebellious period. At that time, the prophet was not a prophet, and he was still seeking a class leap between herding and wandering merchants like a mortal.

Therefore, Aziz Ze Manzeri is a false believer. In his bones, 72 beautiful virgins who don’t want heaven, nor enjoy the excitement of life with a scimitar and scriptures, religion can prevent him from being excluded. This is him. The only reason to believe in religion.

After waiting for a while, Aziz came to the battlements.

"Master president wants to hear the story again?" He asked in French that was so fluent without accent.

"Today I don't want to hear stories that are too long." Lorraine looked at the silhouettes of people passing by the stone window on the opposite side, suddenly on a whim, "Azizi, how long do you say that a person can last without getting in the sun?"

"Theoretically, it can never be exposed." Aziz didn't want to answer directly, "You have legends about blood-sucking monsters in the West. This monster is still human in nature, but he only appears at night and will never die."

Lorraine couldn't help laughing: "The blood-sucking monster is the enemy's slander on the son of the dragon. As far as I know, the earliest origin is Ottoman Turkey. It should be regarded as a legend of the *** world."

"Son of Dragon?"

"Vlad Tepesh Dracula, Grand Duke Vlad III of Wallachia, the owner of Dracula Castle."

"His father Vlad Tagul was a member of the Dragon Knights organization, the main force of the Catholic Church against the Ottoman Empire. Tagul means "dragon" in Latin, and Dracula is "son of the dragon". His Excellency Ladd III will have the honorary title of the son of the dragon."

"But if you find clues about him in your culture, he should be called a piercer more often. This slanderous name comes from his vice, he likes to pierce his captive enemies with a spear. Rows of rows rotted in front of the suspension bridge of Dracula Castle."

"It is said that those corpses rotten with spears once frightened an Ottoman Turkish general who called Lord Vlad III a bloodthirsty monster. But maybe his Latin is not standard? In short, for a long time, there will be the legend of that absurd vampire monster~lightnovelpub.net~ Aziz listened with gusto: "It is a pleasure to chat with you, and it always confirms my point of view. I have always believed that all legends originated from reality, such as thunder and lightning, winds, heat waves, and virgins. "

"The virgin should not be a legend." Lorraine waved his hand. "The Ottoman Caliph ruled the Arab Empire in its heyday. Even the old man in the mountains built a paradise. He had no reason to create it."

Aziz's expression became more cheerful.

"Today is of great significance to my life, my generous president, so I am ready to dedicate the most beautiful story in my chest to you."

He cleared his throat.

"This story will make me completely abandon my motherland. But I promise that after listening to this story, you will be as smart as you will be able to regain harmony with important allies..."

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