Sultan stood in front of his second son's prison with a complicated expression.

"Diramman, my good son..."

"Father!" Diraman quickly grabbed the iron railing, his eyes red and his expression was ferocious. "Father, I thought about it for several days. I think there is a loophole in our defense. If the British had a way to send shells to the dock, we had accumulated too much oil there..."

"You probably heard the movement last night, brother."

A thin figure suddenly flashed behind the Sultan, Elamanhe Ben Said, the eldest prince of the Sultanate, was also the biggest frustrated person after Dillaman was favored.

His face shone with a sickly red glow.

"Your conspiracy was successful. We personally ruined the entire coastal fortress. The fire is still burning. In order to prevent the fire from spreading further, my father had to order the flattening of the houses close to the dock, and seventy-two households were displaced."

"My conspiracy...has success?" Diraman was stunned. "How is it possible? Our coastal guns have an absolute advantage in range. Even if one or two stray bullets ignite the gasoline, it should not be difficult to extinguish them..."

"Milani Castle." Elamanhe grinned, his lips curled up, but his voice was filled with obvious indignation. "The attack was initiated from Milanani Castle. Hundreds of shells fell from the sky, and the entire turret was in the range of attack. All the oil was detonated because of your advice, because my father believed in your advice."

"British people...British people..."

"It's not just the British, right? The Kassadi family stationed in Milani Castle is the Hassadi family in Riaman. They are the buffer for us to achieve peace with the Imam. To put it bluntly, Kassadi is the minister's man, and there is only one exception for more than a hundred years..."

Ellamanhe bared his teeth, and he pulled each syllable to the longest.

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

As soon as he heard that name, Dillaman fell into an ice cave.

He suddenly understood his fault and was released from Lorraine accidentally. All he thought about was how to persuade the Sultan to be vigilant and persuade the Sultan to be prepared. So he took away all the "Old Muscat" who was close to the royal family, completely ignoring 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 the chance, and all the schools were locked in a cabin, and he could only distance himself from a distance and not say anything more to anyone.

This is... a conspiracy!

Dillaman shivered in anger, holding the iron bars of the cell, and was furious: "This is a conspiracy, a conspiracy! The despicable British, the despicable pagan! He deceived Bashar, deceived Bashar!"

Ellamanhe smiled coldly: "Do not cheat? Today I took someone to search the mansion of Kasadi's house, and the building was empty!"

"That's because the British deceived him! Bashar thought he was abandoned by the royal family, and perhaps he thought it was the beginning of our attack on the Kassadi family, and of course he would steal his own family..."

"This is far-fetched! My brother. No one knew about your private transfer of fleets to the port before. Unless you or your people have British supporters, they would never be able to make plans around you and Bashar Hassad."

"Insider?" Diraman stood there in a daze, and in just a moment, the blood and blood rushed to the top of the skull, "It's you!"

He angrily scolded Ellamanhe at the top of his throat.

"You tell me that a fleet of British people stolen into the mouth of Muscat Bay, you tell me that they are disrespectful to their father, you tell me that they will be happy as long as they sink their father..."

"You're swearing!"

"I don't!"

"Father!" / "Father!"

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

The eldest son... The eldest son is supported by the old Muscat nobleman Jalari family, the second son is passionate and talented, and he is also expected to be loved by him.

They were his best heirs, but now...

The old Sultan rubbed his eyebrows: "Diramman..."

"Father!"

"You said that the Hassad family was deceived by the British, you were deceived by the British..."

"Yes, yes, father!"

"Then show me." The old Sultan shook his hand and threw down the key to the cell. "The coastal turret is destroyed, that doesn't matter. As long as Milani Castle returns to our arms, Muscat will still be our indestructible tomb of the Saint."

"yes!"

...

January 16.

It has been three days since Lorraine has been ashore.

Nothing new happened, and Hassadi did not meet him either.

The pros and cons of the Burning of the Port are hard to describe. At least in Milani Fort, the whites and Arabs were divided into two distinct groups.

The whites occupied all the open air places of the castle, including the roofs, walls, stairways and docks, just like the novels Lorraine had read in her previous life, living a life similar to a tree.

The Arabs occupied those undisclosed places, towers, turrets, walls, no light, silent, and the pattern of life was like shuttled through mines.

Lorraine suddenly thought that the dwarves and elves in the novels seemed to coexist with confrontation and cooperation, and their time to confront each other in the background is far greater than awkward coexistence in the story.

It's like an unpopular reality.

After all, the reason why stories become stories is because there is often an evil dragon that feeds on two races at the same time.

Two races that dislike each other are united because the dragon suppresses disgust, coexist in unity, cooperate in unity, find each other's strengths, or fabricate some of the strengths of each other.

The evil dragon is the root of a better life.

"But... where is the evil dragon?" Lorraine leaned boredly on the battlement and kicked the wall brick behind her, "Go and invite Mr. Aziz to digest food, it's time to tell stories again."

Aziz is one of the twenty-three Omani people who have taken the initiative to become "friends" these days. Unlike those who are lazy, despised, fearful of punishment, and sellers for glory, Aziz is special.

He was a semi-civilian officer, and was in charge of the rank of Marshal Manzeri on the flagship of the Bagara Guard and was appointed as Lieutenant Colonel.

He was a forced nobleman, and in terms of seniority, he was barely considered the nephew of the Marshal.

He was also a historian, specializing in the 6th to 7th centuries, when the prophets were not prophets, and were seeking class leaps like mortals between grazing and traveling merchants.

Therefore, Aziz Ze Manzeri is a pseudo-believers. He neither wants to be a 72 beautiful virgins in his heart nor enjoy the exciting life of a scimitar with one hand and the other. Being a religion can prevent him from being excluded, which is the only reason why he believes in religion.

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

"Does the president want to hear the story again?" he asked in French fluent French without any accent.

"I don't want to hear stories that are too long today." Lorraine looked at the figures flashing by the stone window opposite, and suddenly she had a whim, "Aziz, how long can you say a person last without basking in the sun?"

"Theoretically, it can never be sung." Aziz answered directly without thinking, "There are legends about blood-sucking monsters in the West. This monster is still human in nature, but he only appears at night and is immortal."

Lorraine couldn't help laughing: "The blood-sucking monster is the enemy's slander for the Dragon Son. As far as I know, the earliest origin was Ottoman Türkiye. It should be considered a legend of the strange story of the *** world."

"Son of the Dragon?"

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

"His father Vlad Tagule was a member of the Dragon Knights organization, the main force of the Catholic Church in fighting against the Ottoman Empire. Tagule means "dragon" in Latin, and Dracula is "son of dragon", so that Lord Vlad III has the honorary title of "son of dragon."

"But if you find clues about him in your culture, he should be called a pierced person more. This despicable name comes from his bad habits, he likes to pierce his captive enemies with spears, and decay row by row in front of the suspension bridge of Dracula Castle."

"It is said that those corpses that were rotten with spears had frightened and retreated an Ottoman Turkish general who called His Excellency Vlad III a bloodthirsty monster. But probably his Latin is not standard? In short, over time, there will be a legend of the absurd blood-sucking monster."

Aziz listened with relish: "It's so pleasant to chat with you, and it always confirms my point of view. I always believe that all legends come from reality, such as lightning, wind, heat waves, and virgins."

"Virginity should not be a legend." Lorraine waved her hand, "The Ottoman Caliph ruled the Arab Empire at its heyday, and even the old men in the mountains could not create a paradise."

Aziz's expression became more pleasant.

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

He cleared his throat.

"This story will make me completely betray my country. But I promise that after listening to this story, you will be as smart as you will be able to regain harmony with your important allies."
Chapter completed!