The castle is the main line of the territory's prosperity and decline.
The stone wall is twenty meters high, and the top of the stone wall has gaps at intervals to form a crenellated castle. Every twenty meters there is a circular defensive tower, which facilitates archers shooting arrows to defend the castle.
The inner wall is much higher than the outer wall, so that the archers on the inner wall have a wider field of view and shooting range, forming crossfire between the inner and outer walls.
There is a large lake around the castle as a moat.
In the castle, the narrow windows, semi-circular arches, low and rounded roof, and the door frames that protrude layer by layer create a solid, balanced, and saturated aesthetic effect. The small window openings contrast sharply with the vast internal space, making the interior of the castle dimly lit, deeply mysterious, and full of dark secrets.
But most importantly, a thick fog is produced here, spreading throughout the castle and permeating this small world.
That's why the castle is grand but gives people a gloomy impression. The servants inside are all expressionless, pale-faced and wearing uniforms.
But today was an exception, the gentle morning breeze slowly dissipated the fog, and the entire castle basked in sunlight, quietly sweeping away the chill and terror, even bringing a hint of grass and dew from afar.
A young man came onto the balcony, carefully savoring the long-lost sunlight. Although this sunlight stung his skin and made his dark powers seethe, his expression was distant and slightly sorrowful.
"Count Brienne!" A middle-aged man stepped forward and bowed upon seeing the young man.
The young man named Buriyaman looked down with profound and wise eyes.
"Immanuel, did you feel it too?" murmured Count Briemann: "The being that briefly descended ten years ago has come again, the fog and wind brought this news."
In the fog and wind, it was impossible to make out anything specific, but that bloody aura's glimmer of light was something he would never misrecognize no matter what.
At this time, a dark knight appeared in the distance. He was wearing black armor and his helmet was purely black, full of noble and elegant feeling. He walked close to the balcony and then stopped below, waiting respectfully.
The two of them didn't speak, they just quietly waited. After a long time, the handsome man finally spoke again, with a smile and an icy gaze that sent chills down one's spine: "I am Count Brieman, I once presided over justice and fairness, but war and slaughter made me fall from death."
"Ever since three hundred years ago, I awoke from this plane as a humble farmer, yet I still ascended to the lord's throne and built such a magnificent castle."
"The dark power seeps out from below, I obtain its contract, exchanging blood and fear for power. But am I a slave to this power? Every decade, I wage war, reaping blood and fear in exchange for power, yet not annihilating everything, lest this world falls into darkness prematurely."
"In the long sleep, I digest power, I enhance control. For three hundred years, I have learned a lot. Now even the power of the sun cannot make me die, unless my head is chopped off or my heart is destroyed."
"In the long years, I have come to realize that I am a dark lord, but also a slave to this facet and darkness. I can't escape, only accelerate my downfall, falling into an even more evil and darker abyss until we become food - just like what I do to those lords now. I can't even avoid this fate, only futilely delaying the process - the power of darkness is too strong."
"But finally, the dawn has arrived. If I can grasp its soul, not only will I gain a rich reward from the darkness, but also obtain freedom. I have waited for too long, and this time I must succeed. I will seal off this plane, not allowing any power to cross over unless it is greater than the entire plane's total. However, this will greatly consume my strength. So, you only have one chance: lure it into my castle and kill it!"
When he came to the last sentence, Count Briemann raised his voice.
"Your wish is my command!"
The two answered in unison, saying that they had a deep understanding of the dark forces and had revered this young man to an almost divine level - not succumbing to darkness, but controlling it. His power and wisdom were beyond doubt.
With both hands resting on the railing of the balcony, Marquess Burliman gazed out at the Dark Knight with a thoughtful smile: "Coltard, my dear Chief Knight, Commander-in-Chief of the Knights, can I trust you?"
"You can trust me, Count!" Cortade raised his face and looked at the count on the balcony: "I will protect you with my life until the last moment."
"Then let the Dark Knights perish, for in the face of the dark power below, who knows when it will be the blade that turns against us? But in this process, we must kill off other lords and have this hero pin all his hopes on our castle, for a soul and strength like his is most valuable."
"I understand. Don't worry, I will thoroughly fulfill this mission." Cortade's pupils suddenly contracted, but he still replied without hesitation.
"Well, then let's have a drink in the sunshine!" It was just a hint of sound, and the two were not surprised to find that on the balcony, a soft chair had appeared out of thin air, while opposite it, a small table made of northern wood had also appeared, filled with this pure atmosphere, and on top of it was a cup of wine.
And in their hands, a cup of wine suddenly appeared, with the intoxicating taste of grape wine inside, although it was as red as blood, but it wasn't real blood.
Cortade hesitated for a moment before removing his helmet, revealing a head of golden hair and facial features that were chiseled like a knife, yet somehow even more handsome. The wind and frost had given him a mature look - in fact, from any angle, he was the perfect embodiment of a knight.
As he heard some faint sounds, he found that his master had already sat down on the balcony, relaxing in a comfortable soft chair. The sunlight illuminated his pale face and also reflected a warm smile - his eyes were filled with hope for the future.
"Cheers!" The two men downed their drinks in one gulp, then Cortade flung his cup away, bowed low, and backed out, his red cloak fluttering behind him as he disappeared into the passageway.
Although he is a vampire, Bremen does not deny that he likes sunlight, especially the sunrise in the early morning. He recalls the days when he was human and felt physically and mentally comfortable. As a good host, his castle often has guests, and the night banquet is very lively.
He cherished these days and thought of this place, he couldn't help but sigh, although it was similar again, it wasn't his real home after all!
Its eyes turned calm, and a thick fog emanated from its body, carrying the breath of death. The fog spread rapidly, spreading to the castle, then with the castle as the center, it spread to the nearby forest, until the entire land was covered.
Emanuel humbly lowered his head, letting the fog envelop him. He knew that from now on, this fog would fill the earth. If Briman's power was strong enough, it could even obscure the sunlight and last for a long time. All plants that relied on light for life would wither away slowly until they became a desolate and dead world - coldness and hunger would triumph over everything.
In the past history, the arrival of fog meant a war that occurred once every ten years, until the lord eliminated the invading dark legion or held on for half a year, when Briman's power reached its limit, the fog would naturally disperse. However, even if the fog was not enough to truly obscure the sun, the reduced light intensity would still result in a poor harvest that year.
A moment later, the ground shook and waves of power spread in all directions. Emmanuel stood with his head bowed in awe, waiting for the tremors to subside. When he lifted his head, he was not surprised to see that no one was left on the balcony. Slowly, a faint smile appeared on his face.
