Knight: Becoming King of the World

Chapter 136: Chapter 115: Won’t Eat? Fine, Eat a Slap Instead

The sun gradually sank in the west. Henry stood in an arrow tower on the wall, looking down at the Shield Carriers destroyed by the Crossbow Mechanisms and the bodies outside the city, and nodded in satisfaction.

’To him, this is just a training exercise. Otherwise, he would have just thrown on his armor, charged out, and slaughtered them all.’

’He just had to be careful with his face. The helmet granted by Khorne had no Face Armor, and a direct hit could mean instant death.’

’Even if he rigged up a makeshift guard, it would be useless. Concentrated fire from arrows and Javelins could easily shatter any Face Armor. The rule about not killing nobles only applied after they were captured. On the battlefield, death was simply death.’

As the last rays of the setting sun bathed the walls, the Skilled Infantry began to clear the battlefield.

Corpses were carefully dragged away from the wall, and soldiers meticulously stripped the armor and clothing from the dead.

After being cleaned and repaired, the armor and clothing could be reused, while the corpses were mercilessly tossed into a pile to be burned after the war.

Below the wall was a scene of utter carnage. Bodies were piled high, and the armor and clothing of enemies slain at the foot of the fortifications lay scattered everywhere.

The enemy hadn’t dared to retrieve the bodies of their fallen comrades, as Henry’s archers were still on the walls. They were unwilling to gamble that the archers’ aim had faltered from exhaustion.

Meanwhile, the enemy camp had fallen silent. Four nobles watched the victors on the wall, their hearts filled with dejection and resentment.

The soldiers were also incredibly frustrated; they wanted loot and bounties! Now they had gotten nothing.

Their comrades had already fallen, and there was nothing they could do for them.

The atmosphere in the camp was heavy and oppressive. Soldiers sat around the campfires, silently eating their dry rations. No one spoke.

Three Barons and one Knight sat at a table, their silence radiating a deep sense of defeat.

They had assumed that after such a fierce siege, Henry’s army would be exhausted and demoralized.

Reality, however, had dealt them a heavy blow. Not only was Henry’s army completely unaffected, but they instead had High Morale.

"We underestimated Baron Henry’s army," one of the Barons said, breaking the silence with a hoarse voice.

"Yes, we were certainly careless," another Baron agreed.

"Not only do they have High Morale, but their combat skills and organization are also superb. Baron Henry’s army has clearly undergone rigorous training and preparation."

"Over four hundred dead and more than six hundred wounded, and that’s not even counting the captured Knight," the third Baron said grimly.

"Our losses are too great, and Baron Henry’s army... they hardly seem to have been affected at all."

The Knight’s eyes glinted. "We must re-evaluate our strategy. We can’t continue this blind assault. We need to find a weakness in Henry’s army and strike it down decisively."

’The Knight was extremely tense. The capture of the other Knight put immense pressure on him. The other three men were Barons, outranking him and commanding more troops. If they decided to use his and the captured Knight’s Private Armies as cannon fodder, there was nothing he could do to stop them.’

"But we’re running out of time! If the Count’s main army arrives, we won’t get anything out of this!"

The other two Barons nodded in agreement. If it weren’t for the chance to carve up the castle’s spoils and its population, why would they have bothered with a siege in the first place?

They could have just surrounded the castle and waited for the Count’s main army.

"We need more intelligence. We need to understand the structure of Baron Henry’s army, their weaknesses, and any potential reinforcements. Only then can we formulate an effective plan of attack."

"Are you kidding? How could Baron Henry possibly have reinforcements? He’s a single Baron; raising an army like this is already pushing his limits. Besides, where are we supposed to get intelligence on the inner workings of his army? Are you dreaming?"

The nobles sighed in hushed tones, unsure of what to do. Such a prize was right in front of them, yet they couldn’t take a bite. The thought was maddening.

Inside the castle, Henry’s soldiers were devouring their food, wolfing down grilled meat patties, gulping delicious broth, and biting into fresh fruit.

Although there was no wine to celebrate the victory—the war wasn’t over, after all—they were still content. The hearty meal replenished their spent energy.

The officers gathered for a meal in the castle tower’s banquet hall. Though the war was not yet over, tonight’s feast was a small celebration of their valor that day.

The banquet hall was brightly lit, and the long table was laden with all manner of food.

The aroma of roasted meat filled the air, mingling with the scent of fresh bread and vegetable salad.

The officers and Attendants sat around the table, feasting heartily, their faces beaming with satisfaction.

Henry sat at the head of the table, his officers flanking him on both sides. They ate and chatted, and though the shadow of war still loomed outside, they could set their worries aside for a time.

Bain, chewing on a meat patty, said, "You all know that joke from the streets of the Imperial Capital? A man gets lost and asks a city guard how to get to the palace. The guard looks at him and says, ’Easy. Just walk straight until you see the place glittering with golden light. That’s the palace.’"

The man then asks, ’But what if the glittering golden light is the sun?’ The guard just shrugs and says, ’Then you’d better go a different way, because the palace doesn’t revolve around the sun.’"

Bain’s little joke was met with a burst of hearty laughter from the officers.

"Attendant Bain, are you making fun of us? We spend all day training under the sun; we follow it around more than anyone."

"Haha, that’s right! We’re the sun’s most loyal followers."

Henry smiled, listening to Bain and the officers discuss things only citizens of the empire would understand, all while eating, listening, and thinking.

’Henry didn’t understand it. The enemy’s numbers weren’t particularly large; theoretically, they shouldn’t have an advantage in a siege.’

’He wasn’t some useless bum like the Baron of Ximira Castle, and his soldiers weren’t just for show.’

’So how did they dare? Did they think he was ignorant of warfare?’

While the officers reveled in the lighthearted laughter and this rare moment of relaxation, Bain noticed that Henry’s gaze kept drifting away, as if he were lost in thought.

"My lord, what are you thinking about? Is something troubling you?" Bain asked, setting down the chicken leg he was holding.

Henry snapped out of his reverie and smiled faintly. "It’s nothing. I was just thinking about our prisoner. The Knight."

Bain licked the grease from his lips and replied, "Oh? That Knight? He’s still laid up in the barracks, with two Senior Infantry watching him. His injuries are serious, but not life-threatening. I think he might be our chance to learn about Count John’s plans."

Elsewhere, in the castle barracks, the captured Knight lay quietly on a simple cot as two Senior Infantry stood guard vigilantly outside the door.

The Knight groaned in pain. The agony in his leg made it almost impossible to think. ’Those quacks! They actually tapped on my knee with a small hammer!’

His leg was crudely bandaged, and every movement on the simple barracks cot felt like a knife twisting in the wound.

Just then, a soldier hurried in.

"The Lord commands that the prisoner be brought to the banquet hall," the soldier said to the Senior Infantry on guard duty.

The two Senior Infantry exchanged a look and, without asking questions, immediately complied. They roughly hauled the Knight from the bed, ignoring his cries of pain as they all but dragged him from the room.

The Knight felt his honor had suffered an unprecedented insult. He was a noble Knight in the service of Count John, yet here he was, being carted around like a sack of potatoes.

But what was even more unbearable was the excruciating pain in his leg. Every jolt and jostle nearly made him pass out.

By the time they had crossed the barracks, passed through the castle’s main grounds, traversed the tower corridor, and arrived at the doors to the banquet hall, the Knight was drenched in a cold sweat from the pain.

The two Senior Infantry tossed the Knight onto the hall floor with a dull THUD.

Only Henry and his Attendants remained in the banquet hall. The other officers had already departed to resume their posts.

The long table still bore the remnants of the feast, and the enticing aromas of roast meat, bread, and salad made the hungry Knight’s stomach GROWL shamelessly.

Henry rose from his seat at the head of the table and walked slowly over to the Knight, looking down to scrutinize him. Despite his wretched state, the Knight’s eyes still held a sharp, unyielding glint.

"It seems our guest is hungry. Give him some food and water."

Selas picked up a soft, buttery roll and a cluster of grapes, preparing the food and water for the Knight.

The Knight craved the food, but his pride made him hesitate. ’Should I accept charity from my enemy?’

"Don’t eat then."

The Knight’s head shot up. Seeing that Selas was actually putting the grapes back, he quickly reached out for them. Ultimately, under the dual torment of pain and hunger, he chose to accept.

Selas glanced at Henry, then walked over and slapped the Knight across the face before handing him the roll and grapes. ’You didn’t want it when I offered it nicely, but now you do? Fine. Have a slap first.’

Gritting his teeth, the Knight began to slowly eat the food and drink the water, slumped on the floor. Henry pulled a chair over and sat nearby, quietly observing him.

"What is your name?"

The Knight hesitated, but finally answered, "My name is Huno Kantai."

"Huno Kantai. A fine name... Now, tell me, what is Count John’s plan? When will his main army arrive?"

Huno was surprised by Henry’s directness. He met Henry’s gaze and said, "I will not betray my Lord, even as your prisoner."

Henry was not surprised. "I understand your loyalty, Knight Huno. But remember, war is cruel. Sometimes, for the sake of a greater good, choices must be made. I won’t press you further tonight. I hope to hear some useful information from you after I’ve had my breakfast tomorrow."

With that, Henry turned and left the banquet hall with his Attendants, leaving Huno alone beside the long table, left to face the remnants of the feast and his own inner turmoil.