Chapter 893: secret order

"Boss."
A voice came out of the skull on his staff that was used for emergency orders. The lower jaw of the skull kept closing as the sound came out, as if the rotten channel still existed.
"He-he's here, we can't stop him."
Mogdrogen rose from his rune carving table and reached for his long staff.
"Understood, I will come right away."
He quickly walked through his private side hall, and then went out into the corridor of the Sun Palace.
The guards and farts shoved to make way for him. They either did not know who he was and had no interest in looking at him, or knew who he was and had no guts to look at him at all.
The psionic boss stepped on the soft-soled sandals gently through the colonnade, garden and pond.
The lower-ranking guards gradually disappeared, and the silver and red figures of the court guards replaced them, but no one would hinder his path-no one knows his name and the meaning of the mask.
After he reached the overlord's dormitory area, the nervous boy who called him hurried over with an apology on his face.
"Boss--"
"Do not talk nonsense!"
Mogduogen shouted sharply.
"Where is he?"
"Outside, Kundera can't stop him."
"Then you should have called me!"
Mogdzhogen walked faster, ignoring the totem poles standing around him like towers, the low-sounding engine and the flash of electric welding.
The craftsmen are transforming the palace, turning it into a fortress more in line with the taste of the Oak-of course, in the human aesthetic, this transformation is also called destruction.
After walking for about two hundred meters, Mogdrogen discovered that he was standing inside the first door, and a group of guards were confronting him.
"Why are you here? Grak, you should stay with your kid, the overlord's military parade is about to begin."
Mogdzhogen asked as politely as possible, because of his appearance, Kundera, who was nervous before, was finally relieved.
He was still not sure about stopping this swift high army.
"I have a question to ask the boss, can't I?"
Mogdrogen put his skinny hands on Grak's back in an attempt to force him to leave but was not stupid enough to really force it.
"With me, we need to talk."
Grak stared down at him, his scarred face etched with contempt.
"What are you? Have the power to order me."
He said, holding his armored hands into fists,
"When I was fighting with the boss, you were still playing snakes in your mud nest, boss Mo."
"You are right, but now, please leave for the time being."
"Why, don't I even have the qualification to meet the boss?"
Mogdrogen shook his head.
"It's not time yet."
After removing the responsibilities of the warlords, Mogduogen’s identity is now the
Election of Mao Brothers
, or
Mao Xuan
for short. Yu Guk's existence is even above the newly released "beast".
Glancing at the other party, perhaps he was afraid of Mog Drogan's new identity, or he didn't want to actually clash with the court guards, but Grak gave in.
After that, Mogdzhogen led Grak back to his residence, which was a giant hall and minaret overlooking the palace, and was once the residence of the chief wizard of the Benedict Empire.
Prime Minister Ok took some time and effort to transform this place into a style that suits his taste. Many of the alien bones collected by him were fixed on the walls and corners, but Grak seemed to pay no attention to the things placed here.
The warlord just stood on the shiny marble floor, breathing like a rough scrape.
"I want to see the boss."
"He is not available now."
"Where is he?"
"do not know."
Grak sniffed at it.
"You know his every move, you know every thought of him."
"No, I'm not that powerful."
Grak started pacing, like a beast trapped in a cage, kicking all the furnishings out of the way.
"I don't understand! I don't understand!"
"The military parade is about to start soon. You have to manage your children. I heard that they have been looking for a blood axe kidnapping recently. You know this is inappropriate..."
Grak turned to him, with frustration in his eyes.
"This can also make you dissatisfied? Or you have been bought by that coward! Or do you think you can flex your fingers?"
Mog Drogan noticed that his client's face was on the verge of losing his mind, and wondered if it would get worse.
Most of the boys know this warlord's cruelest, but few people know that he is also the most proud, and absolutely not allowed any other than Gook to overtake him.
But now, there are two more at once, which is really easy for him to accept.
"The overlord has his arrangement."
Mogzhogen explained patiently:
"You each have different responsibilities."
"I and the boss don't know how many times they climbed out of the corpse."
Grak whispered.
"We have fought from a small tribe to the present."
The high warlord turned and looked at the scenery, wrinkling his face in the direct light.
"I'm not as difficult as a jump that only fires a gun?"
His face twisted in pain, wrinkling the skin around the temple.
Mogzhogen had tried hard to stop a sigh, and he knew it would be so. Although he agreed with Guk's decision, the consequences were equally serious.
"This is intentional."
Mogdzhogen responded:
"The East needs a relatively solid front, and Beirut can bear this responsibility better than other warlords. You should be clear about this... After this war, the shrimps in the east are no longer enough. On the contrary, your quarrel will evolve into more. Big trouble, I will explain it later, but I hope you can understand that the overlord trusts you--'
Grak began to move, quickly unexpected.
Suddenly he turned around, stretched out his armor, held Mogdrogen's neck and tightened it.
The psionic boss struggled and gasped, looking up at the face of hate that was suddenly forcing him, and the warlord's armor still smelled of dried blood.
"trust?"
Grak hissed:
"The kind that blocked me out of the door?"
For a moment, Mogdrogen was struggling to find the right wording.
Then, just as suddenly as when he grabbed him, Grak let go and snorted contemptuously as Mog Drogan barely stood his heels~EbookFREE.me~ You must think I'm stupid! "
He growled:
"A barbarian who knows nothing, can't walk on the same path with those bells and whistles."
Grak's voice trembled with anger, but Mogdrogen had calmed himself.
"Can't you figure it out?"
The psionic boss managed to ask, and Grak's glare was his answer.
"Very well, I wanted to show you this later...but maybe it will work now."
Mogdrogen straightened his robe, then pulled a roll of leather from his belt, unfolded under Grak's curious gaze, and shivered.
"This is the secret order of the overlord. After I read it, you will find it...very interesting."