Chapter 185: Surveillance

"Look, the gatekeeper who has slept for a thousand years has awakened!"

Robin raised the dragon‑slaying spear toward the heavens, the spear tip's dragon breath colliding with the thunder in the sky: "The truth the royal family fears most." He turned his head toward the solemn Fengling, "It should be us who reveal it to the world."

The woman in black had already vanished into the black mist, leaving only her final whisper echoing in the valley: "Beware those who bear the Dragon Blood emblem."

"Where shall we go next?" Fengling asked.

"Home. Do you want to come with me." Robin said, placing the dragon‑slaying spear on his shoulder, and walked away without looking back.

Fengling hurriedly followed.

Robin had just returned to the Viscount's domain, and when he placed the blood‑stained ledger on the oak table, Viscount Wilk's fingers trembled slightly.

The scent of bauhinia drifted in from outside the window; it should have been a pleasant early‑summer afternoon, but the atmosphere inside was suffocatingly heavy.

In the Viscount's quiet estate, the light clatter of bees hitting the glass window sounded unusually clear at this moment.

Father silently turned the pages of the ledger; the Parchment recorded the Hok family's mithril smuggling with a metallic rust odor, and the last page still clung to fragments of star‑marrow crystal, these pieces of evidence seemed to accuse something in silence.

"Rest now." The Viscountess gently brushed Robin's dragon‑slaying spear, her eyes full of concern and worry, "At least this month, take a good rest."

Her voice carried a barely perceptible tremor; this son's excellence was beyond imagination.

They had also heard the news of the Bauhinia Organization teaming up with the Knight Guild, and never expected their own son could snatch a victory from between the two sides.

Fengling watched all this silently, never opening her mouth from beginning to end.

His gaze swept over the newly built defensive works at the edge of the estate; under the Knights' supervision, farmers mechanically dug trenches, the dull, suppressed clang of iron spades against earth echoing.

The evening glow on the horizon was unusually eerie red, as if foretelling an imminent storm.

"Robin!" Fengling called without turning her head, her voice cold and wary, "The front line began construction three days early; the royal spies appeared at the North Watchtower this morning."

Viscount Wilk slammed the ledger shut, shaking the candlestick on the table: "They moved too fast!" He rose and paced back and forth, the hem of his robe sweeping the floor, "Duke Hok just now, the two Grand Dukes of the Eastern and Southern Territories can no longer hold back sending troops; the emperor actually ordered the Northern nobles to attack the Western Territory, the whole kingdom is in total chaos."

Robin clenched his fists, finally sighing helplessly: "We only need to do our own part. Father, from now on please hand over all the estate's troops to me for training; I guarantee that before the Northern army arrives, I will train a force capable of battle."

Viscount Wilk agreed without any hesitation.

"Just worried you'd be overworked."

Robin shook his head, and led Fengling back to his room.

The horn's sound tore through the Viscount's morning mist; Robin stood on the temporary training ground, the dragon‑slaying spear leaning diagonally beside him, its gilded patterns shimmering in the sunlight.

Thousands of militia and guard soldiers formed a square formation; among the interlaced rows of farming tools and long swords, some swallowed nervously, others furtively polished rusted shields.

"Lay down your hoes and hunting bows!" Robin's voice pierced the thin mist, "From today, you are warriors!" He drew his Tang Sword, the cold blade flashing over the frontmost young militia, "Do you see that scarecrow over there? In three days, you must hit its throat from a hundred paces away!"

Fengling stepped onto hovering azure Runes, and the magical threads twining around her fingertips wove a tactical sand table in the air.

"According to modern infantry doctrine, we need to divide reconnaissance, assault, and support into three battalions." She waved her magic wand, flames rising on the sand table, "But we lack basic firearms, so we must substitute with modified magical crossbow cannons."

Viscount Wilk approached, leaning on a silver‑inlaid staff; his cold visage flickered in the sand table's light and shadow, "The western front has three natural trenches, but supplies only last half a month." He pointed to a red dot at the edge of the sand table, "The Northern noble coalition has already blockaded all trade routes to the western lands, our grain—"

"From today, all fields will be switched to fast‑growing crops." Robin interrupted his father's words, his gaze sweeping over soldiers hauling stone crossbows, "Make the Blacksmith Shop work day and night, casting all scrap iron into tri‑pointed arrowheads." He suddenly turned, discovering his mother standing at the edge of the training ground, behind her were the Wizard Apprentices she had trained over the years.

As dusk fell, the training ground resonated with synchronized footsteps.

Robin personally demonstrated modern drill formations; the soldiers changed patterns to the beat of drums, and in the raised dust, ancient Leather Armor and newly made canvas protectors shone together.

When the last sliver of sunset sank below the horizon, Fengling's pupils suddenly contracted, and the Crystal Ball atop her magic wand burst with a dazzling glare: "Magical fluctuations detected to the southeast, arriving in three hours!"

Robin gripped his dragon‑slaying spear tighter, the dragon‑scale pattern on the shaft suddenly lighting up: "Transmit my order: all soldiers go to alert level one." He gazed at the rapidly approaching dark clouds, recalled the woman in black's warning, and whispered, "It seems the royal family's test came earlier than expected."

Four corner bonfires lit up the training ground, casting the soldiers' shadows trembling on the walls.

Robin stood at the highest point, watching Fengling lay magical traps on the battlefield; those flickering Runes resembled stars in the night sky.

He was puzzled; clearly he was just an insignificant minor character, why did the royal family keep biting at him, what was wrong?

Just as his thoughts churned, a massive cloud of dust rose on the distant horizon.

The unit had already arrived five hundred meters outside the Viscount's estate; the setting sun's afterglow bathed the Knights' gleaming armor, reflecting a blinding glare.

Leading officer Mad held the reins, his gaze sweeping over the newly erected wooden palisade, a faint contemptuous smile curling his lips: "With such a crude city, two charges from us can break through."

Mad led an elite scouting force of five hundred Knights, their hooves thundered, the uniform square formation like a steel torrent.

They wore heavy armor, wielded long spears, and the shields bore the royal crest, rattling in the wind.

With Mad's command, the front‑line Knights raised their shields, forming an impenetrable shield wall, while the rear Knights drew bows and arrows, the projectiles raining toward the palisade.

"Charge, we will rest inside this Viscount's estate tonight, and tomorrow we will scout the next area."

Mad's confidence had reason; he himself was a Legendary Knight, and among the five hundred Knights, fifty were Great Knights, the rest Formal Knights, not a single Knight Apprentice, such combat power could easily breach a Viscount's estate without walls.

(End of Chapter)