Warhammer: Return of the Dragon.

"Not much more to say, there are two choices, one is Bretonnia, the other is the Withered Swamp."

Draconil's direct approach to the topic surprised the congressmen, but their responses soon fully explained their positions.

Grellier, the son of Randy, was a prominent nobleman who had been awarded the title of Speaker of the Parliament. He was supposed to be the first to speak out at the meeting, but instead, the meeting fell into silence as the Dragon Prince frowned in thought.

Agthel was clearly in favor of war. He looked at his companions with a determined gaze, as if he was considering choosing a suitable target from the two.

Edgar, who was originally a staunch hawk, may have become more hesitant as he aged, and may be thinking about how to get Draconir to give up this idea for the time being.

Seeing that no one spoke, Agathol was too lazy to worry. He pounded the table, gritting his teeth in anger: "Ratmen, how many of our brothers have died at the hands of ratmen? From the beginning of the Lustrian Crusade, to the Battle of Karak Eight Peaks, and the most recent one was the turmoil on the Isle of the Dead, these rodents always cause countless troubles for Caledor! Charge into the Withered Swamp, destroy the symbol of their evil gods, hang the bastards of the Demon Rat Council, and bury all the elves who died in grief!"

Draknir looked around and found that some people were obviously moved by the words of the Lord of Windhowling City, and they were hesitant and wanted to raise their hands to express their opinions.

The only one who stood firmly beside the Lord of Howling Wind City was his blood brother Ed Tyreese. The relationship between the two could only be described as being like brothers.

As time passed, only the head of the Kelly family from the Anvil of Val, who had once been married to Harandur, raised his hand to show his support for Agthor's decision.

Time passed slowly. As Agathol looked at Greyril beside him with resentment, the Speaker of the Council was still hesitant. He obviously did not have the decisive judgment like his father, so that the Lord of Windhowl, who originally held the second seat, had become the spokesperson of the Caledorian Noble Council in Ulthuan.

Draconian nodded calmly and placed his right hand on the table, indicating that he had something to say.

"Nine to three... and what about Bretonnia?"

The end result was that even Agthel simply chose to treat these colleagues whom he looked down upon with indifference.

The Lord of Wind Howl City said sarcastically: "It is hard for me to imagine that many years ago, whenever there was a spear and a sampan, the Council of Nobles dared to plan the invasion of Naggaroth.

But look at me now, sitting next to a group of cowards, they enjoy a luxurious life that even the inner circle nobles can hardly imagine, intoxicated by poetry, dance, and flattery, and boasting about the honors they won a hundred years ago as the pinnacle of their lives. "

"Watch your words, Agthel, this is the Council of Nobles, not your personal wartime command post!" Greyrill reminded and warned, as he was the Speaker of the Council.

"Then I will make this place my wartime command post, Prince Draknir. I request that the second article of the ancient law of Caledor regarding the ranking of nobles be enforced, and that the Adonis family be appointed as the chairman of the Noble Council!"

Victory by force is the most direct and most suitable way for Caledo.

Agthel's madness was beyond everyone's expectations. He threw his sword on the conference table and did the same thing with Greyler. No one expected what kind of outburst would be brought about by the Lord of Wind Howling City's hundred years of silence.

Greyril also had a bad temper. Seeing Agthel's provocation, he threw his sword on the table and enforced the law full of honor and blood in front of the emperor.

“Okay… I’m just more patient, but don’t challenge my bottom line.” The prince’s frown was clearly evident when the oxygen in the conference room became extremely thin and gradually turned into a force pressing on his shoulders.

Draconir took the initiative to ask two people who wanted to fight to show their integrity, and his sword turned into a shadow and disappeared.

The two men gradually calmed down, but their displeased looks fully demonstrated that this matter would never end, and it was very likely that a war of words above the sky would soon take place in the Dragon Ridge Mountains.

The prince did not want to interfere in these personal grudges. Anyway, if something went wrong, their daughters would come to apologize in the end. If they really thought they were going to fight to the death, they would underestimate these hot-tempered but extremely shrewd dragon princes.

"This is not a proposal, but a resolution. I am not asking for the opinions of the Council of Nobles. I just want to hear your opinions and decide who to take action against first."

This... How come it's the same as his father's? The biggest role of the Noble Parliament is to call on the people to respond to policies. As for what the policies are, it is entirely decided by Caledo.

"You have thirty seconds to decide. I don't like centrists, or I will abstain from voting... The Noble Council represents the people's ideas. A person without ideas is sitting in an important position. I will consider reappointing a suitable candidate."

You can't do that?

If it were in other kingdoms, the parliament would indeed have the right to say this to the prince. After all, they have an electoral system, and most senators have ancestors who were princes.

But this is Caledor, an ancient kingdom that has been ruled by the Dragon Tamer family for at least seven thousand years. It is the first vassal of the Everqueen and a pure feudal dictatorship, not some bullshit democracy.

"Council President, your thoughts."

The person who was least willing to answer, under the order of the prince, said in a low voice: "Bretonnia, from a strategic point of view, Bretonnia is far more valuable than the Withered Swamp. Human knights are too weak to pose a real threat to Caledor... The population of the New World has also become very dense. After conquering Bretonnia, we can transfer some of the population to the Old World. The environment there is far more suitable for growing food and raising horses than the Southern Kingdom."

"Isn't what you got enough?" Agathel kept mocking, pointing at the nose of the speaker of the council and cursing: "You always say that it is not suitable to start a war, because Caledor still has too many resources to digest, and we don't have enough people to fill the gap. Naggaroth, the Southern Kingdom, Lustria, each hole needs at least a million people to fill it.

But even with so many resources waiting to be developed, you are still thinking about filling the family warehouse that will never be hidden, instead of considering the grief of our dead compatriots. How much does Bretonnia have to do with Caledor? Maybe they became a stepping stone for Caledor to establish hegemony, but they are definitely not as abominable as the ratmen! "

Greyriel could no longer bear it. He stood up angrily, pounded the star wood table with his hands, and stared at Agthel.

“Then why the hell did you fight? To satisfy your damn vanity and guilt? Yes, you don’t need to tell me about the hatred with the ratmen. I saw Curtis die in Bafeng Mountain with my own eyes. He was just a young man who had just got the dragon armor, but he will sleep forever in the land that does not belong to him.

It was his honor, to die in order to reclaim the Dragonhorn, but the risks of the Blighted Swamp were countless times greater than those of Bretonnia, and so far the Serpent Prophet had not even found the right path to the Skaven City.

Are you going to pave a deadly road of revenge with the lives, flesh and souls of the children of Caledor? ! At least in the war with Bretonnia, we can use real resources to compensate the families of those who died in the war, instead of using an illusory will of revenge to make them live a hard life with labor! " (End of this chapter)