Chapter 239

Hoodwood Fort

Duke

Executioner Squad

Vice-captain

Li Kebodun

Budun

Red-robed Monk

Dreadfort

"When people know that the consequences of rebellion are unbearable, they will choose to submit." He looked pale and thin, like a smaller version of the duke; when he heard his tone of speech, he even wondered whether the duke was having this petite person relay a message for him.

Langnv

Tilir

Hoodwood Castle

White Harbor

Old Town

River East

White Harbor Widow's Look

Huowude

the North

Moerlei

Moerwa

Jiannis

Jiaersimandele

Lady Tangnala

Hankesi

Lige

Bloodiness is also better than the sorcery he cannot understand.

The Duke did not place all his hope on the foreign deities, but he had few strategies for directly defeating the she-wolf.

"Weather is the key to how much victory or defeat in war? Grasping a bit of initiative can bring great advantage." When Li Ke Bodun went past the Red-robed monk to raise an objection to the Duke, the Duke responded thus.

He also considered the cost: "These captives that cannot be released nor exchanged for gold are worthless to us; the only thing to consider is how to ease the unease in our hearts."

The Duke's eyes were fixed on him, so it was obviously not to ease the Duke's unease, but the Duke's heir's.

He could not forget the Duke's bland glance cast upon him, as if mocking: even such a trifling cost, you actually have to weigh and consider, truly unbearable.

Unbearable? He only felt it was sufficiently crazy.

When he was younger, he often went with his uncle to various places in Hedong, distributing the goods produced on that small fief to the peddlers. The peddlers transported the goods to various rural areas, also secretly purchasing small items from the countryside to sell elsewhere. To manage those peddlers belonging to them and confirm what goods were to be sold, he often had to traverse the broad Hedong hinterland with his uncle; Huo Wude, Old City, and White Harbor Widow's Hope were their targets.

Unlike the high-and-mighty earls and viscounts who only knew other earls, viscounts, or famous knightly warriors, he also knew the ordinary knights of Huo Wude and White Harbor.

He tried to pretend not to recognize those captives, but when he saw a knight with a birthmark mounted on Bolton's flaying rack and then begin to wail, the beautiful freedom he had enjoyed as a child walking the northern lands was bit by bit mercilessly crushed.

That birthmark at least did not appear on his daughter's face. He remembered that when he first saw him, that was his thought. What was his name, Morlei or Morwa? His little daughter was called Janis, at least he hadn't forgotten that.

There were also other knights. How many times had he and his uncle lodged in these knights' homes, singing and dancing with their children, presenting one insignificant little item after another, and receiving how many ingenious trinkets?

Madness.

He felt he could no longer gallop across this valley, no longer have the face to knock on their doors to exchange gifts with their children, nor could he again take up bow and arrow with their sons to hunt rabbits and hares on the hillsides, nor could he sit down to peacefully admire their daughters' beauty, secretly pondering how to win their favor, how to utter the lovely words that would make their hearts flutter.

In order to return to camp later, he decided to stay as long as possible at each forward outpost needing inspection, but in the afternoon, the cavalry sent by the Duke brought orders, forcing him to embark on the return route.

"Ga ersimandle is dead." When he returned to the tent, the Duke did not ask about his inspection results, nor express an opinion on his delay, as if his evasive behavior had been completely seen through, and he also tacitly permitted and accepted it.

He was grateful for this tolerance.

"How did he die?" He didn't really want to know the answer.

"Compared to Windrush Fortress and Winterfell, Huo Wude Fortress's defensive capability is too low." The Red-robed monk walked out from the shadows soundlessly and stopped behind the Duke.

"Will Lady Tangnala surrender?" Neither the Red-robed monk nor the Duke thought to explain to him the cause of Ga ersimandle's death; he could only try to regard this person's death as an accident.

How to make use of this accident, he had no idea at all.

"I have already sent someone to shoot the letter, but Lady Tangnala did not respond; perhaps she did not see the letter, or perhaps she does not trust my sincerity. So I prepare to let you personally deliver it." The Duke's voice was soft, but his gaze had already locked onto him: "You are my heir; you carry my letter and promise, at least letting her see my sincerity."

After skinning and burning to death her several hundred soldiers?

"What is your opinion?" After Li Ke Bodun had been silent for a sufficient length of time, the Duke again opened his mouth to ask.

"I am willing to take on this task." Knowing the Duke dislikes refusal, he smiled: "I hope this lady will not throw me from the city wall, or cut the rope while I am in the basket."

"You are the heir of Terror Fortress; I will not allow you to enter in that manner."

"Young Master Bo Dun, you will be fine."

Li Ke Bodun let out a scornful laugh, disdaining this comfort, took the Duke's heavy letter, and walked out of the tent.

Han Kesi, Li Ge, and An Ge saw him to the city gate.

"Sir, let us accompany you?"

"My white flag is only one-sided, and if the widow goes mad, she will discover she can only throw one person." He laughed while speaking to the three guards, hoping to not show tension and unease as much as possible: "An extra person just encourages her to do foolish things, right?"

He hoped Lady Tangnala would surrender; otherwise, it is hard to imagine what fate she would face. Li Ke Bodun felt he was not here to persuade a widow, but to reduce as much evil sorcery being used on the northern lands as possible. If the lady and her followers steadfastly resolved to defend the city, that Red-robed monk might pour all the lives of the northern realms into the flames until every living person in the city who dared to resist had been exchanged.

The three guards equipped him with full armor.

He chose a white warhorse, hoping to differ from these days' gloom. Riding the warhorse, he left the front camp, holding a white banner, facing the wind, and walked toward the moat's bank.

He was close enough to the city wall. He felt, if the other side did not welcome him, they could simply shoot an arrow; if they were lucky, they could also let the Duke of Bolton replace his heir.

But the arrows only landed three feet in front of him.

「I am Li Ke Bo Dun, heir to Duke Lu Si Bo Dun of the Terror Fortress and Guardian of the Northern Border. I have been ordered to convey a message and deliver a letter to the Duke as a sign of sincerity。」

He saw a figure emerge from the city wall, then repeated it; when he saw an armored person raise their head, he repeated it again.

No one answered him; he knew that all he needed to do now was wait.

The wind blew lightly, fluttering his white flag; in the river below the city wall he saw the flag and his own reflection.

He looked at the letter in his hand, as if it weighed a thousand jin; he noticed his breathing had become hurried.

He seemed to smell again the burning and flaying of daytime. Gloomy.

Even the river surface bore a gloomy purple mist; the castle across the water seemed shrouded in thick fog.

Daytime grew shorter and shorter.

He didn't know how long he had waited beside the moat embankment until the creaking winch turned, pulling him back to reality.

The drawbridge lowered slowly beneath his feet, then landed with a soft 'pa' sound. The warhorse startled, stepping back two paces; he felt the horse wanting to return.

He himself wanted to retreat, but he still gripped the horse's belly, rode across the drawbridge, passed through the gap left open, and entered the castle's barbican.

Huo Wu De's soldiers took his warhorse and the scabbard bearing his sword.

The soldiers also wanted to take the letter in his hand, sealed with scarlet flayed-person clay.

「This is not something you can take. 」 He moved his arm aside to avoid the soldiers' touch.

「Hmph! 」 The soldiers ignored him, confirmed he had no other weapons, then four fully armed soldiers flanked him on both sides and led him into the city.

The city tower was guarded by a full battalion of soldiers; he saw that their leather armor bore either an elk emblem or a mermaid. Their numbers were nearly equal, but they were not mixed; each group occupied a corner, like two rival gangs facing off.

He felt he should observe more to better understand the castle, aiding any future assault: the space between barbican and keep was too narrow for large-scale fighting; taking the barbican still required charging the keep under a barrage of arrows from higher murder holes. Yet the keep's passage could accommodate at most two horses abreast, so numbers could not give an advantage here; he could not say how many troops remained garrisoned on the keep, but already curious heads peered down from above.

The cramped courtyard between barbican and keep was piled with many stones and various jars; he knew these would eventually be hauled onto the battlements and hurled onto the heads of Bo Dun's soldiers or the southern troops. They were stacked neatly, showing no sign of haste or panic.

To take this castle would be as hard as climbing to heaven.

The soldiers gave him little time; after two breaths he entered the pitch-black entrance of the keep.

The keep was not as dark as outside. A wide passage, supported by stone pillars, stretched to both sides, revealing the keep's distinctive scenery. It truly was a castle befitting a count's status.

「Where is Lady Tang Na La? 」 He had wanted to continue looking left and right, but the soldier beside him disliked his brazen gaze and shoved him from behind.

「You can ask her yourself later, 」 the soldier said humorously.

「The lady is in the hall, 」 after walking a while, a military officer in a noble's attire emerged from the outer corridor, a mermaid emblem on his chest, saying, 「I've heard reports that you have a letter to deliver? 」

Li Ke Bo Dun raised his hand and placed the letter on the officer's chest.

「I am... 」 the officer began, but as he took the letter, it instantly turned to ash in his hand.

Li Ke Bo Dun watched the officer's astonished expression freeze, then more than ten black shadows leapt from where the ash had been.

They wielded long blades as black as ink and as fluid as water, their bodies unstable like ripples. He saw the blade sweep across the neck of the Man De Le officer in an instant, blood spraying.

The nearby soldier drew his sword, but was instantly pierced through the chest by the black sword of another shadow soldier.

Blood welled from the hollow in their chests, and Li Ke Bo Dun watched them collapse limp before him. The shadows moved with flowing ease, without delay.

Then he saw the shadows sweep past him, retracing his path, moving swiftly along the corridor.

He began to feel dizzy again. When he came to from his stupor, he saw Bo Dun's soldiers had already stormed the drawbridge, seized the barbican, and swept through the keep.

He stepped out of the corridor, but his footing was unsteady; he stumbled and fell down the stairs of the gallery. When he rose, he saw snowflakes falling one by one, like goose down. He reached out and caught them; the snow melted in his palm.

He felt no cold, only a fishy warmth.