Chapter 490: What Are You Planning to Accuse Me Of?

“Dokadi!”

“Oh, Lord Willard, you’re back! What great fortune! We’re all still alive!”

Dokadi, upon seeing Willard, wore a face full of excitement and relief.

He had no idea his superior had already decided to kill him to silence him.

Instead, he was relieved that not only had he survived, but his superior Willard had too.

For he still remembered Willard’s earlier promise to promote him upon their return.

“Dokadi, I have something important to discuss with you—come with me!”

“Yes, Lord Willard!” Dokadi harbored no suspicion; ever since he secretly contacted the orcs for Willard last time, he had considered himself Willard’s most loyal subordinate.

Thus, Dokadi followed Willard into a nearby alley.

“Lord Willard, what’s this important matter?”

Reaching the deep end of the alley, seeing no one around, Dokadi could no longer hold back his question.

“Let’s go inside the courtyard—it’s about your promotion after we return! This matter must not be known to outsiders!”

Dokadi beamed with joy, bowing and scraping, “Yes, Lord Willard!”

Immediately, Willard pushed open the courtyard gate ahead and stepped inside.

Dokadi followed closely behind, utterly unaware of the killing intent within the courtyard.

Meanwhile, inside the courtyard, Solit held his breath, having long been crouched behind the gate.

Seeing Willard enter, he silently raised his longsword.

Then Dokadi’s figure appeared at the gate.

Solit did not hesitate—he swung his sword straight at Dokadi’s head with full force.

The whistle of rushing wind finally alerted Dokadi.

But with his ordinary human physique, he had no chance to react.

He hadn’t even fully turned his head when the blade was already about to strike him.

Swoosh!

Clang!

But at that moment, a sharp whistle pierced the air, followed by the sound of metal clashing.

An arrow, shot from an unknown location, deflected the sword just before it could sever Dokadi’s neck.

“This...”

Only now did Dokadi fully turn his head, and saw Solit standing behind the gate, face cruel, the sword deeply embedded in the mud beside his foot.

“Damn it! Willard, now!”

Solit reacted swiftly—he had no time to investigate who had shot the arrow.

What mattered now was immediate murder and silence.

Once Dokadi was dead, all evidence of their collusion with the orcs vanished.

Even if they were accused of killing Dokadi, it wouldn’t land them on the gallows.

The stakes were clear.

Willard had been stunned.

Hearing Solit’s cry, he reacted quickly—he bit his lip, pulled a dagger from his sleeve, and stabbed straight at Dokadi’s back while the man stood frozen.

Swoosh!

Thud!

But another sharp whistle rang out—a dark streak struck Willard’s wrist.

Willard screamed in pain, and the dagger fell from his hand.

“Damn it! Who the hell is this?!” Solit’s face turned ashen.

If the first arrow had been a surprise shot and he couldn’t tell its origin,

this second arrow—aimed at Willard—had been fired while he was already alert.

Yet even then, he had not spotted the archer.

Rustle! Rustle!

But moments later, a loud commotion came from above his head.

A group of aerial knights and cavalry flew over the courtyard from above the city wall.

“Griffon Riders? Thunderhawk Riders?!” Solit’s face changed drastically—he instantly realized what was happening.

He gritted his teeth, abandoned all caution, unleashed his battle aura, and swung his sword at Dokadi.

“Die!”

The arriving Griffon Riders were, of course, Mik and his men.

Seeing Solit still daring to act at this moment, Mik showed no mercy—he launched a lightning strike downward.

Swoosh!

A sharp whistle, then a sizzle.

Instantly, Solit was engulfed in lightning, frozen in place as he spasmed like a dancing thunderbolt.

Only after several moments did the electric arcs fade; Solit collapsed, slumping helplessly to the ground.

The greatest feature of lightning attacks was not damage, but paralysis.

Anyone struck, no matter how powerful, would be affected by the current’s numbing effect—only the duration varied.

Thus, though Solit’s battle aura protected him from serious injury, his movement was certainly restricted for the moment.

Seizing this chance, Mik and his men descended to two or three meters above the courtyard, then leapt down.

Instantly, Solit and Willard were apprehended.

“Damn it! Let go of me! I’m the Southern Theater Inspector! You Griffon Riders have no right to arrest me, let alone harm me!” Willard struggled as he was restrained by Mik’s men.

“They’re Gervas’s men!” Solit suddenly spoke up.

Clearly, he had deduced Mik’s identities.

“G...Gervas? This...this can’t be!” Willard froze, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Nothing impossible, Willard. Though a few of our Griffon Riders survived, they’re all severely wounded!”

“Look at these Griffon Riders—they’re unharmed. They’re that damn brat’s subordinates!”

“Correct! Correct! Lord Solit guessed right! We are indeed Lord Gervas’s men!”

“Lord Willard, stop struggling—or we won’t mind letting you taste what a fist the size of a cooking pot feels like!” Mik and his men grinned smugly.

At this moment, a figure stood atop the roof next to the courtyard—it was Akari!

The two arrows had been shot by Akari—fast, precise, and invisible to Solit’s notice.

Yet Akari appeared only for an instant before vanishing from the rooftop.

“You’re Gervas’s men? Then you have even less right to arrest us! I warn you—release me and Solit right now!”

“Otherwise, when I report this to the Commander-in-Chief, you’ll be guilty of insubordination—you commoners are dead!”

After a brief shock, Willard regained his wits and struggled even harder.

Mainly because Gervas’s men were even lower than the kingdom’s Griffon Riders—mere commoners.

So they had no right to lay hands on someone of Willard’s high status.

“Is that so? Willard, you want to report to the Commander-in-Chief? How convenient—I’ve brought him along!”

“And not just the Commander-in-Chief—also Duke Hernand and a host of nobles. Why don’t you tell them exactly what you plan to accuse me of?!”

At that moment, a mocking laugh echoed outside the courtyard, followed by a familiar figure stepping inside.

“G...Gervas?!” Willard’s struggling froze instantly, his face turning pale.

“My lord!” Mik and his men bowed in greeting.

Of course, after Gervas entered, the Commander-in-Chief, Duke Hernand, and a host of high nobles followed in succession.