Chapter 76 Chapter 77 The Arrogant Knight Lord
Jima loosened the reins while readying herself to jump off the horse at any moment, using George as a shield, as she assessed the approaching knight lord with ill intent.
He was pale-faced, with deep-set eyes and swollen dark bags under them. In an abandoned house left for years, he could scare an adult to death from the shadows.
No matter how you looked at him, he resembled someone on the brink of becoming a vampire.
Jima glanced at George, noticing his hand shifting from the reins to the hilt of his sword, and then tightening his grip on the reins again. “Yes, I represent the Sanctuary and convey goodwill from it to you,” he said.
“I thought the Sanctuary’s goodwill would be greater, perhaps sending another bishop to replace the hurriedly fleeing cardinal,” the knight lord said. “Alright, you can go back; you’re only three people. I still have to send someone to carefully protect the Sanctuary’s goodwill.”
George said loudly, “Though few in number, we are all elite.”
The knight lord shot Jima a glance and asked, “Has the Sanctuary figured out how to defeat beasts with cuteness?”
George took off his helmet, revealing his face. “I am George, son of Allen, the former bearer of the Holy Sword.”
Jima observed keenly as the knight lord’s brow furrowed and panic flashed in his eyes; his grip on the reins tightened. The attendants nearby, filled with dread, inadvertently raised their spears, now aimed at the sky instead of George.
Someone whispered, “Who is George?”
“The hero who killed the Demon King.”
“Oh, the one with the succubus slave?”
“Yes, that’s him.”
Jima felt a complex mix of emotions, maintaining a blank expression, striving to treat these words as background noise.
The knight lord’s deep-set eyes coldly stared at George and asked, “Do you know who I am?”
His tone carried a thick layer of arrogance.
“Drew, son of El, the ruler of all Barto people in this land and…” George emphasized, “protector.”
The knight lord—Drew said, “Salute the great hero George; you come to save our pitiful Barto people? We are truly grateful…” He raised his chin and continued, “…but the troubles we encounter are hardly worthy of your intervention. I can handle it; in a few days, I’ll wipe out those disgusting greenskins.”
Saintess Jenna hurriedly said, “My lord, this matter is not so simple. We discovered that an ancient vampire may have been resurrected, attempting to use the greenskins to desecrate this land once more.”
Drew’s expression changed, saying, “Shut up! Priest of the God of Dawn, you sow rumors and create panic. While I can’t throw you into the dungeon, I can expel you.”
Saintess Jenna and George exchanged worried glances. To all appearances, Drew seemed to be in the late stages of “vampire disease.”
George said, “The holy knights never lie; I assure you she speaks the truth.”
“I am the ruler here,” Drew said. “Do I not have the right to refuse the Sanctuary’s overly generous goodwill? Brave knights will follow the goddess’s teachings to slay monsters without needing the pity of some illegitimate child heretic.”
George frowned.
Jima had long opened her desire-eye to observe Drew’s emotions. Surprisingly, unlike his arrogant expression, which seemed to invite someone to punch him in the face, his symbol of arrogance—a yellow vortex—was the largest but not significantly bigger than the other six.
His dominant emotion was not arrogance, but something else.
George said, “The holy knights have the power and duty to eradicate evil; local lords cannot interfere. When I eliminate evil, I usually do not care about secular constraints.”
As soon as he spoke, the attendants pointed their lances at the three. George remained motionless; nonetheless, Jima could see the attendants’ hands shaking, and sweat trickled down one of their faces.
George’s blue eyes bore down like an imposing weight on Drew’s face.
Drew returned the glare with resentment but couldn’t help tightening the reins as his steed stepped back two paces before stabilizing.
He said, “Heh, for you, my territory holds only minor evil disturbances. Since you have the time to come here, why not run to the source of evil, to the Demon Realm, and slay another Demon King? I believe the entire continent would cheer for your heroic deeds.”
Jima interjected, “George always remembers a saying his teacher taught him, ‘Do not neglect to eliminate minor evils,’ and he puts it into practice, fighting against both great and small evils.”
Jima sensed that Drew’s face seemed to turn even paler, perhaps out of discomfort.
If pressed further, drawing swords and killing right there would escalate the situation immensely.
Jima changed her tone and smiled, “Of course, we believe that the goddess’s faithful servant would willingly provide some minor information to help combat evil, mutually beneficial… We have visited Saint John the Blessed, who is a saint with the ability to see into people’s hearts. Upon hearing about our mission, he immediately wrote a letter of introduction, stating that you are trustworthy.”
Drew’s expression eased significantly, though he still eyed them warily.
This kid must be hiding something. He has to believe we’re gullible fools to avoid a falling out…
Jima thought, turning to George and saying, “Saint John did write a letter of introduction, right?”
“Yes.”
George nodded, bending down to retrieve a letter from the saddlebag.
Drew sighed with relief, saying, “John is a good friend of mine; we once served as attendants for a noble knight. Since it is his letter of introduction, I cannot refuse the Sanctuary’s goodwill.”
Jima saw George’s furrowed brow and knew Drew was lying.
George handed over the letter, which the attendant took to Drew. Drew examined it closely, nodded, then suddenly asked, “Recently, there are people spreading slander against me and my family; those farmers never know gratitude, lacking heart, spreading rumors. Have you heard anything on your way?”
“I have heard this nonsense,” Jima said, turning to George. “By the way, you asked the farmers seriously if they witnessed it; they were scared to kneel down, what did they say?”
George had no mental burden about lying to cooperate with Jima and smoothly said, “He said he was just talking nonsense about the lord.”
Drew’s paper-white face finally showed a smile that could be barely called friendly. He said, “You are truly the rising star of the new generation of the Sanctuary. An ancient sage once said that rumors stop among the wise. I believe your wisdom matches your strength.”
Hearing this adept praise, Jima instinctively glanced at George’s furrowed brow.
Heh, it turns out to be fake.
Rather than a compliment, it felt more like relief that a fool from the Sanctuary had arrived.
After collecting the letter, Drew raised his hand and said, “Today, we won’t pursue those ungrateful rustics. Escort the brave Lord George back to town.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The mounted attendants then surrounded the three, heading towards the city.
Jima sighed, feeling regretful that her plan to leave early was ruined. In the end, she was still entering a city that might have been set with traps alongside George and Jenna—hoping for a perfectly coordinated act that could deceive Drew.
For George and his team, having to personally kill Drew was the worst-case scenario. In the short term, it would lead to a leaderless mess; in the long term, it would be detrimental to the Sanctuary.
No knightly noble would feel at ease about the Sanctuary, which had seized power.
However, the same applied to Drew. If he personally attacked or killed George and his team, it would not only invite retaliation from the Sanctuary but also other knight families might seize the opportunity to march in and divide his family’s ancestral territory. No new vampire enjoys starting life like that.
After walking for over ten minutes, Jima grew bored and chatted with George, “George, did Lord Drew serve with Saint John as an attendant?”
George nodded, “Yes.”
“Are they of the same age?”
“Yes.”
“Could you change up your tone a bit?” Jima said, “At least say more than just ‘yes’ or ‘correct’.”
George said, “I thought someone as clever as you would have guessed the answer.”
“Then, if I’m not mistaken, Saint John’s actual age isn’t as old as he looks?”
“Mhm.” George showed admiration, “That is one of his sacrifices.”
Not worth it…
Jima swallowed the instinctive words rising in her throat and said, “That would instill respect in most people.”
“Yes, he is a guiding light for many towards goodness.”
“I hope he will be for me too.”
After hearing this, George smiled at Jima.
The group continued walking for several hours until they arrived at a city at the foot of the mountain.
It was called a city, but it was just larger than a town. The city was situated by the river at the foot of the mountain, protected by white stone walls. To the east stood a castle with a moat and a drawbridge, isolating it from the rest of the city.
Usually, cities form in places with good transport and trade routes.
But this city had developed from a settlement protected by the castle. Without the protection of extraordinary beings, ordinary settlements struggled to grow.
In front of the white city walls were several piles of charred orc corpses and burnt catapults.
The soldiers on the walls recognized their lord and opened the city gates.
Once inside, there were many people, and Jima immediately felt as if she had returned to her home on Earth. Right at the city gates, the muddy road was lined with over thirty makeshift tents, straw laid on the ground, supported by slanted wooden frames, with a bit more straw on top, barely enough for a single person.
When sleeping, one had to kneel and crawl inside, just enough to shield from the wind and rain.
Many farmers with dirty, damp clothes knelt on the ground, elbows propped up, palms upturned, begging for alms from passersby.
Jima looked at their faces, most of which were yellowed. She said to George, “They look so pitiful.”
George shook his head, “Clearly, it’s a victory, yet they end up like this. I will persuade the lord to follow the old laws and distribute food, if he has it. But it’s best to resolve matters swiftly; the farmers need work to truly fill their stomachs.”
While talking, they arrived at the castle.
The drawbridge behind them closed, shrouding them in darkness.
Jima felt as if she had crawled into a jar.
“Someone will take you to your resting place,” Drew said. “Stay here and do not wander; tomorrow I will have some tasks regarding evil for you to complete.”
