Rebirth of the Viking King

In terms of combat ability, vision, the way he thinks about problems, and even the knowledge in his brain, Alfred, who has received the best education since childhood, is undoubtedly the leader among young people.

But don't forget, he is only 15 years old.

He was born in the palace of Wessex and grew up under the service of hundreds of servants. After showing his outstanding mind and fighting talent, Ecbert even spent a lot of money to send him to the Pantheon in Constantinople to receive the top education in the Western Continent.

In the Pantheon, Alfred met the rulers and ladies who would stand at the top of the pyramid in the future.

In the school, all teachers serve them diligently.

This was extremely difficult for Alfred.

After Alfred submitted his name card, he was left hanging in the living room by Mohlantin for a whole day. He began to doubt whether he had overestimated his identity as "the adopted son of Duke Loki".

Among the 7 countries in England, relying on the tough-minded Ecbert, all the other 6 countries have to sell themselves some thin noodles. Don’t say it’s difficult to meet after submitting your name card.

Simply hearing the news that he was coming, the kings would start preparations several days in advance, and at the same time send envoys on official roads to welcome him into the city.

He also hasn't been wronged in the slightest.

Even if Wessex lost the war with Loki and was adopted by Loki as his adopted son, his treatment would not be reduced at all.

Loki asked his most powerful ally, Barkan Bush, to personally lead him into Asgard to improve his combat and survival skills.

It is not difficult to see that this is a crown prince who has never "asked for help" in his life.

When Normandy was in trouble, he was able to use his own experience to keenly see that what Normandy needed most at this time was reinforcements. He also knew that when no one went out to ask for help, he had to do it. Stepping forward to find a chance for a comeback for the Normans.

But people cannot accomplish something they have never done before.

When it comes to wielding a sword to kill, Alfred is already an expert at this time under the training of Buchan Bush. But let a crown prince who has never asked for help in his life assume the responsibility of a diplomat. In times of trouble, he can only rely on red lips and white teeth to ask for reinforcements.

It was the first time since his birth that he had been rejected at the door of Mohrantine.

**

In the Conqueror's Fortress, should I force my way into the Viking Queen's drawing room and force her to see me?

With her strong alliance with her adoptive father, she should be able to help.

But this is like fighting against the common people, forcing their allies to put aside their ongoing work and focus on themselves.

Is this really the right thing to do?

Drinking down the coffee in his hand, Alfred didn't know how to answer this question. At this time, he couldn't help but admire the group of diplomats and ladies who made a living by communicating every day.

Their work seems to be easy and comfortable. They just wear exquisite dresses every day and haunt the palaces of nobles. They drink the precious wine of time and talk about seemingly unrelated romances.

However, it is this group of people who can finalize orders that are difficult for the king to succeed, and can also resolve the crisis before a war breaks out.

"Your Highness, you have done everything you can for these Yankees. The Queen may not see you because they have many conflicts within themselves."

Alfred looked at the setting sun on the horizon that was once again close to the sea level, picked up the coffee in his hand and took a deep sip. Coffee without honey and milk is far more bitter than fragrant.

Being able to drink coffee in the inn of the Conqueror's Fortress was beyond his imagination of this barbaric land.

He needed the bitter pick-me-up drink to think about what was wrong.

Am I too conservative?

It’s hard for me to ignore their fighting in the “Fire Land”, shamelessly interrupt them, and ask the master to lead troops to increase the number of troops in Normandy?

Or

"300 giant dragons rose into the sky and washed them with flames from south to north. Tsk tsk, all the 'giants' and 'berserkers' will be reduced to ashes!"

"You didn't see that the farmers in England who had received the news of the war before we set off have even begun to prepare to run away! This time, no matter what the advice is, it won't work!"

"Haha! If it were me, instead of staying and waiting to be roasted by the dragon, I would run away immediately."

"If you keep the green hills, you won't have to worry about running out of firewood. It doesn't matter if your house and land are gone, holding on to your life is the most important thing!"

Alfred ignored Tuhart's words.

One of them is a noble and the other is a mercenary. On this road, the two people think about problems in completely different ways.

Sitting opposite Alfred was the "Sky Knight" Tuhart who once rescued him from the siege of tens of thousands of worm-possessed people in the "Cloud Province".

As the chief mercenary of Wessex, he was more like Alfred's personal bodyguard at this time, accompanying him no matter what he did.

"Hey, why don't you reconsider the idea of ​​us going to the New World to escape for a few years?"

"I know you nobles care about face, but with all due respect, if there are no reinforcements willing to help, just relying on the thousands of Vikings in Normandy is not enough to fill the teeth of those French beasts!"

Tuhart, who came from a humble background, is a survivalist through and through.

Alfred racked his brains, trying his best to think of allies who might be able to help him.

(I have made many friends in the Pantheon, but the oldest of these guys is only 16 years old, and they are not old enough to take power)

Do you want to go to Seville, the capital of the Visigothic Free City-State, to take a look? Perhaps Hoster Talley can provide some help?

No, it's too far away!

(Can the Celts exiled to the Northern Islands be trusted?)

No, these guys who believe in the god of agriculture have no fighting ability at all

The coffee in the cup has become cold, and overusing the brain has made Alfred feel like needles in his temples, making him feel drowsy. The fatigue of continuous running around and waiting in the reception room for two days seemed to burst out at this moment.

As long as he is alive, has money, women, and material things, he will be very happy.

However, Alfred's pursuit is much higher than his. Since entering the Pantheon in Constantinople, Roman scholars have taught him that the mission of the king is to protect the lives of his subjects and continue the glory of civilization.

He has a vague feeling in his heart.

Perhaps this conflict is the only chance for Wessex to get out of the control of the Illuminati. If it is lost, the next chance may not appear for hundreds of years.

I can't give up yet!

But what else can I do in this situation?

Where can I find new allies? !

He gently pressed his hot face against the cold marble table, and soon, fatigue came over him.

Before he completely lost consciousness, the last picture from his almost completely closed eyes was Tuhart waving a knife and fork and feasting.

"Haha, these French people are really amazing. They can turn local ingredients into works of art wherever they go!"

"I didn't expect that this black horned antelope would be so delicious when cooked. Your Highness, if you don't eat it, I will eat it all."