When Brian woke up, the first thing that caught his eye was the grayish-white ceiling.
The sunlight streaming through the window was blinding. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, but the scene remained unchanged.
It wasn't a dream, he thought. I... am still alive? He tried to move his body, but could only shake his fingers. His entire strength seemed drained.
Then he heard someone shout, "He's awake! Go and inform Your Highness!" Your Highness? Brian felt as if his mind were filled with a lump of paste, his thoughts slowing far beyond normal. Wait, how did he lose consciousness? It seemed he had been pierced in the chest by a venomous snake and was about to die. In his final moments, a ghostly figure suddenly appeared and, in an inexplicable manner, defeated all his enemies...
Soon, a maid reached out to help him up and leaned him against the head of the bed. Another person brought a basin of water to wash his face. Brian had clearly never experienced such attentive personal care, and with the young maids around him, he felt somewhat overwhelmed.
Fortunately, the awkwardness didn't last long. When the Fourth Prince entered the room, everyone immediately bowed their heads.
Bryan felt a surge of passion welling up inside him. He had so many questions to ask, yet found himself at a loss for words. Roland, however, nodded and said, "I know of your deeds, Bryan. You are a true hero." The moment the word "hero" left his lips, Bryan's eyes welled up with tears, his voice choking with emotion. "No... Your Highness, my friend is the real..." Roland patted his shoulder, offering comfort.
As the Nightingale had foretold, when the Scar was brought to the cell, he spilled the beans like a bamboo tube pouring beans before the warden could even begin.
The mastermind behind this operation wasn't his royal siblings, but the Milu Clan of Changge Fortress. Count Milu contacted his distant relative Hills Med, alias Scarface, and secured control over most patrol members through bribery and division. He also deployed a skilled operative as backup to prevent any mishaps during the mission. Their true objective wasn't assassination, but to burn the grain reserves and force him to return to the fortress obediently.
This conspiracy claimed the life of an innocent man—Grey Dog. He tried to stop Scar and his gang from committing their crime but was stabbed to death by a patrol officer. The member who replaced the venomous snake has gone missing. It seems he realized the plan had been exposed when he noticed the castle wasn't on fire and Scar hadn't returned on time that morning, so he fled immediately.
When Brian had regained his composure, Roland spoke. "Your friend Greyhound will receive a funeral befitting his status. His family will be properly settled, and they need not worry about food anymore." "Thank you, Your Highness," Brian sighed deeply. "May I ask, Scarface... has he died too?" "He is still alive." The patrol captain closed his eyes in anguish, preferring to drag the man into hell rather than save himself. Yet this hope now seemed faint... Scarface was undoubtedly guilty, but Noble's crime could be atoned for with money. If his uncle agreed to bail him out, Scarface might escape death—indeed, even avoid prison altogether.
Roland could easily guess his thoughts. "Hills Med, the infamous Scar you mentioned, is a member of the Elk Clan in Longsong Fortress. The clan leader, Rockin 'Med, is a count granted by Duke Laine and his distant uncle..." He paused briefly. "But none of this will affect the final verdict. Scar has been sentenced to death by hanging, to be carried out in three days. If you recover, you might want to visit." Brian's eyes widened. "But... Your Highness, Nobles can redeem sins with golden dragons. Your actions won't anger—" Roland waved his hand, urging him to calm down. "Noble? To you, he might seem like a noble from the Elk lineage, but in reality, he holds neither title nor fiefdoms. He's not truly noble. Second, even if he were noble, invading the Prince's temporary palace, attempting to burn the food reserves, and disregarding the lives of over two thousand people in Border Town—these three heinous acts alone make his crimes unforgivable." While Roland still had some reservations about Tilly's death, Scar's crimes were utterly unforgivable. If he succeeded, his own foundation in Border Town would be destroyed beyond repair, leaving no chance for redemption. This was far more despicable than direct assassination.
Who cares if this reaction might anger the Long Song Fortress? Since the other side refuses to do business with them and chooses to ruthlessly sabotage Border Town, they can't back down either. This incident also served as a warning to Roland—the political struggles in this world are no longer like the under-the-table games he knew. They've become more brutal, more primal, and far more bloody.
"Rest well. You've lost too much blood. Don't leave the castle. I've assigned someone else to take over the patrol duties. When the Demon's Moon ends, I'll hold your investiture." "Your Highness," Brian looked at the prince in disbelief upon hearing the latter part, "You mean..." "Yes, you will become my knight, Mr.Brian," Roland replied with a smile.
...
"Preparation—stab!" Fanna gritted his teeth and thrust the long wooden staff in his hand, using the same force and angle as last time.
This is his 100th shot.
A tingling sensation spread through his arm, and Fanna felt he could not hold on any longer. Although he had thought the same by the fiftieth shot, the conditioned reflexes developed over a week of training still compelled him to obey the order. To be honest, even he was surprised to have persevered until this point.
"All—rest!" The command rang out from Iron Axe, and the room filled with a collective sigh of relief. Fan Na let out a sigh of relief, lowered his rifle, and plopped down on the ground.
Now he finally understood that his militia unit wasn't some lowly squad tasked with running errands for guards or knights. After a week of unconventional drills, their training routines had gradually become more structured. Take, for instance, the current exercise of standing on the city wall and thrusting and retracting spears at the hunter's command—though these were wooden substitutes. Vanne quickly grasped the role he was meant to fulfill.
The logistics unit would never engage in such drills, which meant they would face off against the evil beasts directly on the city walls. The mere thought of this was terrifying enough. Fan Na had initially planned to sneak away, but for some reason, seeing his fellow trainees and the prospect of regular meals and decent pay made him hesitate to make up his mind.