Knight: Becoming King of the World

Chapter 146: Chapter 125: Joy! News from Overseas?

[Overlord Henry Bro leveled up to 10. Personal Attribute Points +1, Free Attribute Points +3]

Henry returned to the tower, took off his armor, and set down his battle-axe, letting Ailia and the others wipe away the blood.

Henry took a sip of black tea and tapped on the panel before his eyes.

[Comprehensive Nai +1, Current Endurance Attribute: 21 (Your endurance leaves the handmaidens no time to rest.)]

[Vitality Attribute Points +1, Limit Reached]

[Control Power Attribute Points +2, Current: 7/10]

Henry nodded. ’I want to max out a few skill proficiencies first and see if that gives any special bonuses.’

But based on his observations, it seemed that once a proficiency reached 220, the rate of improvement became incredibly slow.

"Orianna, sorry to trouble you again. Please prepare for tonight’s celebration."

Orianna had been waiting to discuss Henry’s dinner plans with Ailia. Instead, she nodded in resignation, went to find Bain, and mobilized the army’s cooks to begin preparations for the grand feast that evening.

’Aren’t I supposed to be a chef for a nobleman? Why am I cooking out of a cauldron every day?’

On the open grounds of Ximira Castle, blazing bonfires formed a continuous line. Soldiers, villagers, and serfs—thousands of them—gathered here to celebrate the hard-won victory.

The serfs’ figures were hesitant amidst the crowd. Their hearts were filled with anticipation for such a grand feast, yet also a touch of anxiety.

The seats, though simple arrangements of hay bales, seemed to them a symbol of luxury they dared not easily claim.

They held rough earthenware bowls, which they carefully filled with steaming meat soup, thickened with potato flour and emitting an enticing aroma.

Seeing that no one was scolding them, they quickly snatched a few pieces of roasted meat from the table—crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, and still dripping with fat.

They also made sure to grab some fresh fruit—apples, pears, or grapes—delicacies they rarely got to see in their daily lives.

Carrying these treasures, with satisfied smiles on their faces, they hurried back toward the barracks.

There, they could set aside their anxieties and share this rare moment of bliss with their companions.

In the barracks, they found their own small circles, sitting together and enjoying the simple but heartwarming meal.

Compared to the serfs, the villagers’ faces were blooming with joy. The last few days had been like a dream; it felt like there was a festival every day!

The amount of meat they’d normally ration for over a month, they could now feast on to their hearts’ content!

The villagers sat around long tables piled high with all sorts of delicacies. The knives and forks in their hands hardly paused as they wolfed down the rare feast.

Some simply used their hands—they had no need for etiquette, after all.

In the firelight, the wrinkles on an old farmer’s face seemed especially deep. He was taking a huge bite of a chicken leg, grease dripping from the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away carelessly with a rough hand, then impatiently reached for another piece.

His eating was a bit crude, but the look of pure satisfaction on his face made everyone roar with laughter.

The soldiers sitting nearby laughed. "You’re enjoying that more than we are! Careful not to choke, old man. No one’s going to fight you for it."

"Haha, look at the way he’s eating! He’s fiercer than a warrior charging into battle!"

The old farmer also cracked a happy smile. He wasn’t a worldly man, but he understood that days like these were fleeting, so he had to eat as much as he could.

’I don’t know how much longer I have to live,’ he thought. ’If I can eat more delicious food, then even if I die, it won’t have been for nothing.’

Amidst the cheerful laughter, a young villager mustered his courage and asked a soldier beside him, "Soldier, how can a man become one of the lord’s soldiers? What’s the pay like? Is it the same as under the old Baron of Ximira Castle?"

The soldier chuckled and patted his shoulder. "Our Lord treats us very well, and the pay is certainly good. I’m a Skilled Spearman, and I earn eighty Su a month."

"But I’ve earned a lot of merits lately, so I should be promoted to Senior Infantry soon. Then my monthly pay will be one hundred twenty Su."

"Plus, we get regular training and equipment maintenance, and the food is guaranteed to make a man strong."

The villagers’ eyes practically glowed. Gods, eighty Su Dinars a month? That was an astronomical salary! That was nine hundred sixty Su a year?!

That was far more than their income from a year of farming, and much more than the workers in the Workshops earned.

But the most important thing was the status—the dignity!

For the same eighty Su a month, the villagers felt a soldier in armor, holding a weapon, was far more respectable. As for dying in battle, they didn’t care. Cherishing your life was a privilege for the rich.

’To hell with the old days of watery soup! I’m gonna eat the army’s food!’

They all crowded around, chattering over one another. "So, can we join the Lord’s army?"

"What are the requirements for becoming a soldier?"

"Could we wear armor like this, just like you?"

The soldiers answered each question patiently. It wasn’t that they were particularly kind; it was a chance to boast and enjoy the thrill of being admired.

While the adults were preoccupied with their financial futures, the children sat by the bonfire, their small hands clutching various sweets and roasted meats, their faces slick with grease.

The children weren’t thinking about home at all. They only wished that days like this could last forever.

A little girl held a piece of honey-drizzled bread, her eyes fixed on the bonfire, her small face sticky with sweetness.

The young boys formed a circle, holding roasted meat and bread. There wasn’t an infinite amount of food on the table, and if you wanted more, you had to prove your fist was the biggest.

Sometimes, the way to settle disputes was simple and direct. Two little boys began to scuffle on the grass, clearly intending to decide through wrestling who was more deserving of the delicacies.

"Yeah, yeah! Winner gets the food!" a little boy shouted, his voice laced with challenge.

The adults noticed the commotion, but instead of stopping them, they gathered around, cheering loudly and egging the children on.

On the steppes, strength and courage were revered qualities, and wrestling was one way to display them.

"Go on, little Warrior!" a villager shouted, his voice full of encouragement.

"Let’s see who’s stronger!" another villager added with a laugh.

The children’s wrestling match brought waves of laughter and cheers. On the steppes, strength and courage were the cornerstones of survival.

The more power you had, the more say you had—that was the law of the steppes. The weak and helpless were often little more than lambs to be bullied by others.

Therefore, even in a children’s game, the adults were happy to see them display strength and courage.

Finally, one of the boys used his agile movements to pin his opponent to the ground.

He stood up, his face beaming with a victor’s smile. He had won the small contest, and with it, the delicious piece of roasted meat.

"Well done!"

The adults praised him, their eyes full of hope for the children’s future.

The children’s games went on, and the adults continued their own celebrations.

Henry sat at the center, surrounded by a crowd of his officers and Attendants.

Their eyes were filled with fervor and reverence. Bain, Selas, Roland, and the other Knight’s Squires spoke with voices full of excitement and adoration, endlessly praising Henry’s bravery and power.

"My Lord, your great axe is like a weapon from the epics! Nothing can stand in its way!"

Selas was even more dramatic, waving his arms as if re-enacting Henry’s prowess in the duel. "Your strength! Your technique! It’s the stuff of battlefield legend! We’re so fortunate to have witnessed it with our own eyes!"

The Attendants’ words were exaggerated, but their adoration was genuine.

Their gazes were locked on Henry, as if searching for the secret to becoming a powerful Warrior.

’There has to be a special method, right? It must be his arduous training!’

Henry was starting to get the creeps from all the passionate flattery. ’It’s one thing when Ailia makes those faces, but what are all these grown men trying to do?’

Just when Henry thought the fawning was over, Vasco and the other officers, not to be outdone, chimed in. Though they were less eloquent than Bain’s group, their admiration was just as sincere.

"My Lord, you are not just our lord, but a hero in our hearts. Your wisdom and courage are an example for us all."

The other officers all nodded in agreement. Same here!

Henry’s heart warmed as he listened. Though these soldiers had been trained to be "loyal," they were still individuals with their own minds.

Amidst the clamor of the celebration, the Royal Knight sitting beside Henry smiled. "Your men are very loyal to you, Baron Henry."

Henry smiled and nodded. His men were, indeed, the most loyal.

"Do you still remember our days at the Knight Academy?" the Royal Knight asked softly.

Henry nodded wistfully and replied with a smile, "Of course. And you, Senior?"

"Heh. I was so young then, so full of fire. I still remember that stern-faced Swordsmanship instructor who always made us practice the basic stances over and over. I wonder if he’s still there."

Henry thought for a moment. "Ha, you mean the instructor who was always stroking his beard? He used to say, ’Without a firm foundation, the earth itself will tremble.’ I can’t count the number of times he punished me for it."

The Royal Knight laughed as well. "That’s him. He was the strictest, but he also produced the best students. I also remember the old gentleman in the library, the one who always wore glasses. He could always find the exact book you needed."

Henry nodded. "Of course. He was like a living catalog of the library; no question could stump him. I remember one time, I was practically living in the library to finish an Imperial History paper, and he helped me immensely."

"Me too. Back then, we all dreamed of becoming true Knights one day, protecting our own lands and people. And now, you’ve finally achieved that dream."

Henry blinked. He could sense the envy in his old senior’s voice. ’It seems this Knight is a court noble too.’

"How is the Dean doing these days? I hear the empire is at war everywhere. It’s a good thing we drove the Half-Beastmen further east."

The Royal Knight pursed his lips and said in a low voice, "There’s been a rebellion in the western regions."

Henry froze, waiting for the Knight to continue.

"The Emperor’s great audit came down on the Counts in the coastal regions, and those bastards rebelled. According to the latest reports, the overseas Gronia Republic seems to be funding the coastal Counts, which has made the Emperor furious."

Henry’s eyes lit up. ’News from an overseas kingdom?’