Chapter 509: Swords drawn in the name of the sacred, because of the Demon King's

Poor Jerok didn't know that this wasn't the first time the Campbell family had been saved by a demon.

By comparison, his life really didn't count for much.

For the unfathomable Demon King, stabilizing the pieces on the chessboard was just a matter of lifting a hand.

People the Demon King doesn't let die, even if the Demon God comes, they can't die.

Two days passed since that battle; Thanos returned to the Necropolis, reported to the Demon King who already knew the result in the Audience Hall, and returned the gun the Demon King had bestowed upon him.

And at the same time, a warship flying the flag of the Campbell Duchy set sail from the port of Thunder City, killing toward Klanto Island, which was isolated on the sea, like an arrow from a string!

Hearing that something had happened to the castle on Klanto Island, Edward was burning with anxiety; having just seen off Baron Alaric, he turned around and stepped onto the deck of this warship with his personal guards.

Looking at the looming port in the distance, he sternly ordered the captain beside him.

"Sail over! Tell the soldiers and sailors to prepare for battle!"

A look of difficulty appeared on the captain's face, and he nervously reported to the Grand Duke.

"Your Majesty, Klanto Island is surrounded by reefs, and that port is not prepared for warships; rushing over carries the risk of running aground! My suggestion is to park the warship at a position not far from the shore and prepare for support, then lower the sampans... I am willing to lead the charge and be the first to land on the island!"

Edward took a deep breath, trying to suppress the anger in his heart, not letting personal feelings affect his judgment.

"... You stay on the ship, get as close as you can, and have all artillery loaded and waiting for my command."

The captain breathed a sigh of relief and respectfully accepted the order.

"As you command, Your Majesty."

However, before the captain could finish exhaling, Edward looked at his personal guard, Bertrand, who was following him.

He is Theresa's father, who made great contributions in the "Winter Moon Rebellion" and was promoted to a Platinum-tier transcendent.

"Bertrand, you come with me to land on the island."

Looking at the Grand Duke gripping his sword, a look of surprise appeared on Bertrand's face, and then he bowed and accepted the order.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

He did not try to dissuade the Grand Duke; Jerok was, after all, the Grand Duke's sibling, even if they had once drawn swords against each other.

Priests often said that their Grand Duke had abandoned human feelings, and that silver hair was Saint Xisi's punishment for him selling his soul to demons and drawing a butcher's knife against his sibling.

Now it seems that the rumors are not true, and a hint of faint comfort arose in his heart.

Unlike the King of the Luo En Kingdom, the Duke he served, although ambitious, was not a political animal through and through, and still retained a trace of human warmth...

The warship lowered the sampans, and the Campbell personal guards carrying rifles rowed the oars hard, soon landing on the small port buried in the reef cluster.

As his boots stepped on the rotten wooden boards, Edward felt his heart tighten.

That dilapidated castle was like a tomb, and even the light of the lighthouse could not illuminate all the darkness on this small island.

He had only seen this small island on the map; he didn't expect it to be such a place...

"Form ranks!" Bertrand shouted at the personal guards, ordering the soldiers to assemble into a phalanx to counter transcendents.

The Roxai rifle can fire a dense barrage, but to defeat a transcendent who comes and goes like the wind, some courage and tactics are still needed.

If the assassin was still here, he knew very well that the outcome would probably still depend on the sword in his hand.

Not lingering outside the castle for too long, Edward gripped the sword at his waist and led the guards toward the castle.

The whistling sea breeze under the castle was still biting, carrying the salty moisture of the tide, but it couldn't blow away the nauseating blood in the castle.

The moment he stepped into the city gate, Edward's heart had already sunk. He saw the solemn and respectful monastery not far away, which had already turned into a living hell; only jagged glass remained on the windowsill, and ferocious blood permeated behind the broken bricks and tiles.

"... Saint Xisi is above." Bertrand couldn't help swallowing a mouthful of saliva, praying silently in his heart.

Any transcendent who has a shred of piety and awe for the Holy Light could not possibly fight in the monastery and destroy the sacred prayer hall like this.

Edward did not stop, and had no time to attend to those trivial matters. He stepped hurriedly across the broken floor tiles and broke into the ruined monastery.

The personal guards who followed were all seeing the Grand Duke in this state for the first time.

That silver-haired Grand Duke, who had always been known for his composure, was now disheveled, and a hint of panic could actually be seen on his majestic face.

"Jerok!"

Facing the empty monastery, he shouted, his gaze searching in the hall.

Finally, beside a broken Saint Xisi statue, he found that familiar figure.

Jerok was leaning against the wall, having changed into a clean coarse cloth monk's robe, and the wound had been simply bandaged.

He seemed to be seriously injured, but he was not dying as Edward had imagined.

On the contrary, his expression was unusually calm, eyes closed, praying to the statue as usual.

Hearing his brother's call, Jerok, who was immersed in prayer, slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes.

A hint of surprise rose in his eyes; it seemed he didn't expect his brother to come here in person.

"... Your Majesty?"

Edward rushed to his side in two or three steps, knelt on one knee on the dust on the ground, and checked the wounds on his brother's body with trembling hands.

Confirming that those wounds, although ferocious, had already healed, his tense shoulders finally relaxed.

Immediately after, the relief of seeing his closest relative survive a disaster instantly turned into monstrous anger.

Killing intent boiled in his eyes, and his teeth were clenched tightly.

"Who did it."

Jerok fell into silence.

In his mind, the figure that appeared on the dome like a ghost flashed involuntarily, as well as the low whisper of pity thrown by the demon in a tuxedo before he left.

'You also don't need to know.'

Without a doubt, that was the Demon King's dependent, and the darkness that the Campbell family had been enemies with for generations.

For the sake of his brother, and for the last bit of decency of this family, he decided to keep part of the truth.

"It was the King's assassin," he said calmly, "His name is Haro, calling himself the Burier and the Gravedigger. He has the aura of Chaos on him, and he uses unscrupulous means; I suspect he is a remnant of the greenwood army..."

Edward's pupils contracted sharply.

On the way here, he had actually guessed the mastermind, but hearing it from his closest relative's mouth was ultimately different.

"Sorry... this time it was my negligence. I should have thought that Theoden would take action against you."

He had originally thought that Jerok was not his soft underbelly, but clearly that was not the case.

Theoden even understood himself better than he understood himself; when he heard the news that Klanto Castle had an accident, he felt his heartbeat was about to stop.

Jerok shook his head gently, and a tolerant smile appeared on his haggard face due to blood loss.

"No, Your Majesty, my brother... I don't think this is your negligence; mortals cannot foresee everything, can they?"

Without waiting for Edward to speak, he cast his gaze toward the destroyed statue.

"Especially when we still harbor piety, and our opponents have abandoned all bottom lines. Didn't I also not expect it at the beginning? Count Derek, who was loyal to our father, actually held my sword and aimed it at your chest."

This was the experience he summarized from that mistake after reflecting behind closed doors in the monastery for a long time.

A noble knight should harbor piety, but should also not be afraid to speculate on the measure of demons with the worst malice.

Edward stared at Jerok blankly, as if re-recognizing his brother, and was speechless for a while.

Jerok lifted his right hand; his right hand was gripping a broken stone arm, and his tone carried a hint of piety.

"Fortunately, Saint Xisi is watching me. Haro's cross smashed the statue, and this broken arm bestowed upon me holy power, allowing me to repel the evil that offended the gods... It's just a pity that the others in the castle didn't survive in the end. Before coming to me, the apostle of Chaos had already killed them."

This statement sounded a bit absurd, not like the complete truth, but rather like a poem added with oil and vinegar in the mouth of a bard.

However, looking at the corpses all over the floor and Jerok's pious and firm face, Edward finally chose silence.

With his experience, he could certainly hear the concealment in this monologue.

However, he was willing to believe that his brother did not intentionally hide it from him, but decided to swallow the truth alone after careful consideration.

No matter what the truth was, as long as Jerok was still alive, it was enough for him.

Saint Xisi is above, just treat it as a miracle you bestowed...

Edward did not ask for details again, just sat down on the rubble beside Jerok with relief.

The exhaustion of the journey made him exhausted, and at this moment, the string that had been pulled tight in his heart could finally be loosened.

"Your Majesty..." Bertrand found an opportunity to come forward and took out a magic potion to replenish Qi and blood from his bosom and handed it to him.

Edward reached out to take it, nodded to him, and signaled him to take over the castle's defense and search for threats that might be hidden in the darkness.

And then he had to tell the captain who was waiting in full battle array on the deck that the firing charges and shells stuffed in the gun chamber could be unloaded.

The personal guards left the broken bricks and tiles, leaving only two people to guard the entrance of the monastery and masking the broken wooden door.

Only the two were left in the empty hall.

Jerok grinned, took the magic potion handed by Edward, and didn't have any concerns, drinking it in one gulp.

A warm current spread along his chest, and he felt his body recover a little.

Although Holy Light can heal wounds, it is more of an advance on life potential and cannot completely replace the treatment of magic potions.

Seeing the color gradually return to Jerok's face, Edward's expression also softened a lot, not as tense as just now.

The sea breeze poured in from the broken window, seeming to blow away some of the bloody smell, or perhaps it was just that both of their nasal cavities had already gotten used to it.

The brothers sat shoulder to shoulder on the ruins like this, making it completely impossible to see that the two had drawn swords against each other a few months ago.

Jerok turned his face, looked at his brother's white hair, his Adam's apple moved, and he took the initiative to break the silence.

"The children... are they okay?"

Edward was stunned for a moment, then reacted.

"You mean Richard and the others?"

"Otherwise?" Jerok grinned, making a joke to ease the atmosphere, "Do you have an illegitimate child?"

"This joke is not funny." Edward said with a straight face.

"Haha..." Jerok scratched the back of his head awkwardly, just like when he messed things up when he was a child, "Sorry."

Edward's expression suddenly relaxed, and the smile on his majestic face remained.

"I'm joking."

Jerok: "..."

It seems that it's not just him who is the same as before, his brother is also the same as before.

One of them can't grasp the degree of joking, and the other makes people unable to guess whether they should laugh or not, which is awkward enough.

Just when Jerok was thinking about how to open the conversation again, Edward pondered for a while and suddenly said.

"Richard is becoming more and more like you," Edward's face carried a hint of a father's kindness, and he continued in a gentle tone, "That child studies the glory of knights seriously all day long, stubborn like a stubborn donkey."

"I'll take it as you praising me," the corner of Jerok's mouth hooked into a smile, and for a moment he forgot the honorifics, "Although I think Alfred is more like me when I was a child."

"That was before," Edward shook his head, his tone carrying a bit of helplessness, and also a bit of amusement, "In the past year, their personalities have changed a lot, especially recently; the two little guys found an opponent they couldn't defeat, and every time they were cleaned up until they were obedient."

"Oh?" A look of obvious surprise appeared in Jerok's eyes, "That's terrible, whose child dares to clean up the future Grand Duke?"

Thinking of that girl who was baring her fangs and brandishing her claws, the smile on Edward's face was a bit subtle.

"It's Kelin's child, to be precise, Kelin's sister... although she is an illegitimate daughter, her temperament is not so much like it. In short, she can be considered a good person."

Most illegitimate children are either cowardly or deep in the city, and rarely develop a sound soul.

And Miss Vivian, although her personality is a bit weird, can use full-force kicks on children, and the look in her eyes toward the legitimate heir makes people "shudder"... but sunny, cheerful, and confident and generous are barely normal.

Jerok smiled.

"Speaking of which, where is Lino?"

"Lino hasn't changed much in the past two years; she is still as naughty as ever, and more and more like Erin." Edward's eyes became exceptionally gentle; it could be seen that he doted on his daughter very much, even more than his doting on the heir, "Hey, I actually hope she can be quieter; bravery and kindness are certainly beautiful qualities, but her energy is too vigorous."

"That's also quite good." Jerok said softly, his gaze cast toward the entrance of the monastery, "Like Erin is quite good... if she didn't have to bear the Light of Transmission, she would probably have lived a happy life."

Edward shrugged his shoulders lightly.

"Perhaps."

The biggest lesson he learned from his father's generation is that one must never believe in the flash of inspiration in one's brain and break the original meticulous plan.

Sometimes taking a shortcut seems to solve the problem at hand, but it actually buries greater disasters for future generations.

But it's quite interesting to say, Edward feels that the gods are still favoring the Campbell family.

Although none of his three children are like him, the father, each of them has made up for many of his regrets in family affection in some wonderful way.

Perhaps, this is Saint Xisi's reward for him.

There is one point where he is the same as Jerok; although he acts decisively, he also believes in the retribution in the dark.

"Speaking of which, your change is quite big."

Looking at Edward who suddenly spoke, Jerok pointed at himself and said unexpectedly.

"Me?"

"Is there anyone else here?"

Edward smiled and patted Jerok's uninjured shoulder, and stood up from the ruins.

Looking at his brother's back, Jerok was surprised to find that the broad back had lost a lot of vicissitudes.

His Adam's apple moved, and he said.

"... Your change is also quite big."

Edward said in surprise.

"Is there?"

Jerok nodded seriously.

"I feel... you have become younger."

Although everything might just be his illusion, he felt that after the two finished talking, his brother was much more relaxed than before.

And this also made the guilt in Jerok's heart lighten a little.

In the past, his self-righteousness brought a lot of trouble to his brother, but this time, he might have really helped his brother a little...

Edward was stunned for a moment, seeing Jerok staring at his white hair, and suddenly realized that he hadn't told him anything, so he laughed out loud.

Jerok looked at his brother with a confused look, casting a puzzled gaze at him.

Edward, who had laughed enough, lifted his hand, and the raised index finger rubbed the silver-white bangs hanging in front of his forehead.

"I forgot to tell you last time, this hair is actually dyed by me."

This matter spread like wildfire in Thunder City.

All citizens know that he dyed his hair white to share weal and woe with Erin.

But Jerok was in the dungeon at the time, and whether it was the dungeon or Klanto Island, there would probably be no "Thunder City Daily" delivered.

It's a shame to say, he said he would let his brother watch Thunder City flourish, but he didn't send a newspaper here.

In the future, he will strengthen the security of Klanto Island and arrange for newspapers in the supplies sent here.

"So... it wasn't because you were angered by me?" Jerok said in a low voice.

The corner of Edward's mouth curled into a smile.

"Don't underestimate your big brother; your little mess isn't enough to bring me down."

This statement is not entirely true; he turned white a few hairs in the winter month of last year, otherwise he wouldn't have simply dyed his hair silver.

"Don't worry about me, take care of yourself, just treat it as for our mother."

Leaving Jerok dumbfounded, he threw down a final "take care" and walked toward the outside of the monastery.

When the sunlight piercing through the dark clouds fell on his forehead, that smile like a spring breeze like Prince Kelin turned back into the fierce ruthlessness like an eagle's claw.

He would certainly soften his heart toward his closest relatives.

As for enemies...

Don't expect to see a shred of kindness on his face.

A few days after Edward returned to Thunder City, Baron Alaric, who was traveling upstream along the Running River, also returned to his Dusk City quietly, carrying the secret agreement reached with the Duke.

At this very moment, the Inquisition was still struggling with that invisible ghost, and the object the Lionheart Knights were guarding against was mainly Erin and the Northern Rescue Army under her command.

No one noticed that the Governor had left his mansion and disappeared under everyone's noses for a full week.

After all, he was too insignificant, so much so that even the King himself felt that a small Baron was not worth mentioning.

Baron Alaric first lay dormant for a few days, handling official business tepidly as usual, but in reality, he put his energy into the preparatory work for establishing the council.

On one hand, he sent servants to the countryside to contact those powerful rural gentlemen, and on the other hand, he sent out invitations in the name of his youngest son's birthday, inviting the powerful nobles of the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng to his mansion to attend a private banquet.

Amidst the clinking of glasses, all the guests were happy.

By the long table next to the dance floor, many nobles who had drunk too much were losing their tempers, venting their dissatisfaction with the King or the Church.

Alaric took in their reactions and kept them silently in his heart.

They are the backbone of the future Holy Light Council, or at least the objects that can be won over in the first wave.

The banquet finally ended, and the guests who had eaten and drunk their fill left with a sense of unfinished business, yet not everyone left the Governor's mansion.

For example, the three remaining powerful Counts of the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng were secretly retained by Baron Alaric and moved to a small room next to the banquet hall.

As the heavy oak door isolated the noise of the guests, the Counts sitting in front of the round table finally stretched their tense eyebrows and truly relaxed.

They were no strangers to Alaric and knew that although this Baron was the King's man, he was not in the same boat as the King.

This is not hard to distinguish.

After all, as long as a "Baron" sits in the position of Governor of the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng, he will definitely get closer to the Grand Duke of Campbell next door, rather than counting on the King who is far away.

That is not even determined by the interest relationship, but by the position determined by the ecological niche.

It's just like a Baron, relying only on his own strength, no matter what, he cannot sit firmly in the position of Governor, and even less can he usurp the title of the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng from the King's hands.

"... Saint Xisi is above, when will those damn priests get out of my territory! My granary is about to run out of mice; if they continue to toss, let alone my serfs, even I will have to gnaw on tree bark!"

The one shouting loudly is Cormac Kain, the Count of Stillwater Beach.

His family cooperates most closely with the merchants of the Campbell Duchy, and the economic pillar of the entire Count's territory comes from the merchant caravans coming and going on the river.

And now, all merchant caravans subconsciously avoid this land of right and wrong, and even if they have to pass through his territory, they will never stay long, for fear of getting into the bad luck of the Inquisition.

It is not just the economic exchanges that are close; the cultural exchanges between the Luo En people in Stillwater Beach and the Campbells are also very close.

More than a thousand years ago, the Campbells boarded ships from the riverbank of Stillwater Beach, rode rafts downstream, and established human strongholds on the land outside the Rapids Pass.

That place was once the territory of orcs and was once occupied by the descendants of the Dragon God who crossed the ocean, until the "Campbell Count's Territory" was born during the Isaac Dynasty, and the "Campbell Duke's Territory" and the later prosperous Duchy were all things that happened later.

If the King continues to act recklessly, the river people of Stillwater Beach can also be Campbells; anyway, they are almost moving their homes to the lower reaches of the Running River!

In the spring of 1054 of the Aos Calendar, the concept of "nation," even in the ever-changing Thunder City, is a rare thing ahead of its time.

It might have been born in the heart of Sir Wesley, or it might have been born in the head of the cunning Factory Manager Horris, but it has nothing to do with the nobles and serfs of the Luo En Kingdom.

The timid Ed Tully sighed; his Gray Marsh territory was the first Count's territory to be rushed by starving peasants, and his father was also the first unlucky guy to die under the butcher's knife of the greenwood army.

"What is His Majesty the King thinking?" He shrank his neck, his voice trembling, "He sent the Lionheart Knights, but didn't give money or food, just watching us be skinned and boned by that group of gods, and we still have to raise supplies for the Knights. Isn't the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng his territory? Governor... write another letter to the King."

He hadn't prepared to inherit the Count's territory at all, and the fate of more than a dozen families and thousands of servants suddenly fell on his shoulders.

Theron Gard, sitting in the corner of the round table, stared at his wine glass, trying to make his bloated shoulders look smaller, so as not to let them bear the weight that didn't belong to him.

He is the Count who looks most like a Count here, but he is also the one with the least power.

Ed's back at least has thousands of servants who share honor and disgrace, while he has no one around him. Those good people were either ruined by the greenwood army or snatched away by the Salvation Army.

Sparrow Wood territory has no lord.

Only believers who have received the kindness of Saint Karen, and that Saint who is everywhere but can never be caught.

Including himself, he is just a puppet of the Saint.

"Write a letter to the King?" Cormac mocked, glancing sideways at the Count of Gray Marsh sitting next to him, and instigated, "I think you'd better give up this idea; he wishes that there were no Counts in the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng, so he could take back the power in your hands to his court."

Watching the timid Count Ed shut his mouth, he turned his gaze to Theron, who was silent, and instigated, "Count of Sparrow Wood, you say something too; you are probably the richest person here, your loss is the greatest!"

He heard that all the food in the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng was supported by Sparrow Wood territory; it is clear that this guy is also a person with means.

After all, the apostles of Chaos are running around everywhere, and only Sparrow Wood territory can be uniquely fat; it is no wonder that the Inquisition regards his family as a model of piety!

Cormac had no intention of making fun of Theron; "model of piety" might be a heavy honor for commoners, but for nobles, it was not too bad. Anyway, the food that couldn't be sold piled up in the warehouse would be ruined in the end, so exchanging it for honor was not a loss.

Looking at the fiery-eyed Cormac, Theron gave a bitter smile, guessing in his heart that this guy regarded himself as a Campbell Duchy person.

But actually, it's not at all.

The Campbell Duchy's army didn't even pass through his territory, and Erin didn't even look at him, this coward, straight in the eye.

The reason he sat here was entirely at the Saint's instruction.

She wanted him to listen to the Governor, and the Governor also received an oracle.

Saint Xisi is above, how come everyone heard your oracle, but only he was left out?

"I... think you are all right."

Theron put down his wine glass, cleared his throat, and cast his gaze toward Baron Alaric, who was also silent, "Let our Governor say a few words."

Cormac looked at him in astonishment, and then cast his gaze toward Baron Alaric, but suddenly found that this Baron seemed different from usual.

In the past, at this time, Alaric, as Governor, would usually accompany them with a smiling face, echoing their complaints, and then use some correct but useless nonsense to appease them... but today he rarely didn't.

That light flashing in his eyes was something Cormac had never seen before.

He seemed to have become a different person!

"Have you complained enough, gentlemen?"

Alaric's voice was not loud, but it was heavy enough, and in an instant, it made the noisy council chamber quiet down.

His body leaned forward, his gaze as sharp as a hawk, looking at the three silent Counts, and said sonorously.

"The Inquisition will leave sooner or later; they don't belong to Dusk City. However, the King belongs here; if his liquidation doesn't come this autumn, it will come next autumn."

"For the future of the people living on this land, and for the heads of you gentlemen that are swaying on your necks, we must make a choice."

Looking at those pairs of eyes that were gradually becoming terrified, he finished word by word.

"Either unite and resist."

"Or, perish in silence!"

"Clatter—"

The wine glass in Theron's hand fell to the ground, red wine splashed on the carpet, and the bright red liquid flowed all over the floor, just like blood.

He looked at Baron Alaric, who did not hide his wolfish ambition, in astonishment, almost unable to believe his ears—

What kind of oracle is this!?

This is clearly plotting a rebellion!

The one who screamed before him was Ed Tully; the Count of Gray Marsh scurried high like a lizard whose tail had been stepped on.

"Are you crazy?! What are you resisting? Comparing with the Lionheart Knights or the Radiant Knight Haigmer?"

"A demigod is certainly powerful, but not invincible. If even a descendant of the Tully family thinks he is invincible, then we are really finished."

Ignoring the shouting Ed, Alaric stood up and placed his hands on the round table.

"We will establish a 'Holy Light Council'."

"Led by Counts, led by Barons, led by Knights... we will unite all the powerful people in the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng who can still speak, and form a core of power that belongs only to us."

"In the name of the outside, we will solve the 'Salvation Army's' corrosion of us and take the people of the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng back from the witch!"

Theron held his breath.

He felt that this world was extremely absurd.

The Saint said the Governor heard an oracle, and the Governor said the Saint was a witch, and then they were going to hold the Church's sword and aim it at the King behind them.

"Wait!" Count Cormac frowned, "What does it have to do with the Salvation Army? Isn't that the Church's trouble?"

He didn't think much of any "Holy Light Council," nor did he think these remnants could contend with the entire Luo En Kingdom, even if this Baron seemed to have the shadow of the Campbell Duchy behind him.

"Because we can't openly oppose the King."

Alaric looked at him and calmly threw out the strategy formulated for him by Grand Duke Edward.

"However, we can use the name of 'opposing the Salvation Army' to force the Inquisition to stand on our side. Grand Inquisitor Jimenez is dissatisfied with the King's indulgence that has caused the Inquisition to sink into a quagmire, and we can provide them with a decent compromise option, allowing them to return to the Holy City with glory!"

"But..." Ed Tully was still hesitating, wiping the sweat rolling down his forehead, his voice trembling, "This is too risky. If the King is furious..."

"Risky?"

Alaric sneered and interrupted the cowardly statement.

"Don't think I'm joking, gentlemen. Think about Count Sord Wivort who died at Griffin Cliff Castle; he shed the last drop of blood for Theoden, what was the final ending? A statue? A medal? And what else?"

Mentioning that name, the faces of the three Counts present turned slightly pale.

Although Wivort's death cannot be blamed on the King, any person with sound intelligence knows that if the Lionheart Knights had arrived a few months earlier, that land would not have died so many people.

The King never eats people.

Only because he doesn't have to eat people himself.

Alaric's gaze swept across the crowd, lingering on everyone's face, his voice as cold as a knife.

"Gentlemen, the one who was exterminated today is Count Wivort; the one who will be exterminated tomorrow is your children. You can retreat, just like those cattle and sheep in the fields, burying your heads, it's nothing more than me going to hell first to wait for you; by then, I will definitely laugh at you."

"Only by blocking royal power outside the castle, like the Campbell Duchy, can we truly control our destiny in our own hands!"

"For our destiny, it is time to make a choice!" ===== CHAPTER 510 =====