Knight: Becoming King of the World

At this, they suddenly broke into relieved smiles.

’And here we were, agonizing over the decision,’ they thought. ’Honestly, were we even in a position to hesitate? Were we even worthy of Henry trying to win us over?’

They suspected that in this battle, Henry could have single-handedly slaughtered everyone present!

Right now, their best bet was to start sucking up—and fast!

Henry might not remember who followed his orders. But he would certainly remember, in perfect detail, who disobeyed!

Under Henry’s gaze, the other four Barons and more than thirty Independent Knights felt an unprecedented pressure. This was the moment that would decide their fates.

They didn’t exchange glances or speak a word, yet they seemed to reach a silent consensus.

"Baron Henry, your valor and wisdom are a model for us all," one of the Barons said as he stood up.

"We pledge our loyalty to you. Wherever you may lead, we shall follow."

The moment he finished speaking, the other Barons and Knights rose to their feet one by one. Their voices merged into a torrent, all expressing their loyalty and support for Henry.

They placed their right hands over their hearts—a gesture of their utmost respect for Henry.

The two Viscounts paled, sensing an unprecedented crisis.

If they didn’t declare their allegiance, their titles and lands would be forfeit.

The two Viscounts were now sweating bullets, sitting on pins and needles. All the pressure was now on them.

As the highest-ranking nobles present, and having contributed significantly to logistics and supplies, the two Viscounts were seated near the front. This meant they were directly under Henry’s gaze.

They exchanged a glance, each seeing the resignation in the other’s eyes.

"Baron Henry, your fame precedes you, and your achievements are unequaled," one of the Viscounts said, rising to his feet. His voice, though a bit hoarse, was filled with sincerity.

"We are willing to offer you our loyalty and our strength. We will be your staunchest supporters."

The other Viscount stood as well. "Baron Henry, your leadership has shown us the hope of victory. We are willing to follow you. No matter what lies ahead, we will never forsake you."

’Forget it. The situation is out of our hands. As the desert’s Mysterious Merchant would say, a wise man submits to the circumstances.’

’What good is the bullshit noble dignity of a Viscount? Can you eat it? It’s too scratchy to even wipe your ass with!’

Henry’s gaze swept over them, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes.

’The loyalty of these nobles is fleeting, but their power is real.’

"I accept your fealty."

Henry’s voice was deep and powerful. He rose to his feet, his gaze as sharp as a blade as it swept over everyone present. "From this day forward, our fates are bound together. We will face challenges together, and together, we will enjoy the fruits of victory."

At Henry’s declaration, the nobles inside the large tent, whether from genuine feeling or just for show, all put on ecstatic expressions.

Their smiles were radiant, as if they were a group of childhood friends. Their unity and joy were palpable.

They clapped each other on the shoulder and chatted enthusiastically, as if in that moment all suspicion had vanished. Their eyes shone with anticipation for the future, as if they could already see the glorious achievements they would win under Henry’s leadership.

"Baron Henry, our fates are now bound together! We will advance and retreat as one!" Edmund exclaimed.

"Yes! We shall be your strongest shield and your sharpest sword!" a rather fanatical Boras chimed in, his gaze resolute, as if he were ready to walk through fire for Henry.

The nobles all nodded, their expressions filled with adoration and trust for Henry.

They gathered around Henry like a flock of loyal followers surrounding their leader.

Their voices merged into a powerful force. Had they, in that single moment, truly become an unbreakable whole?

’Henry only trusted his soldiers, the ones who had gone through Overlord Training. As for these nobles... it was enough that they were obedient. They would serve their purpose by pooling manpower and resources when he needed them.’

’A victory in war wouldn’t be complete without fine wine and roasted meat. Whether the nobles ate or not, the soldiers certainly would!’

An intermittent breeze seemed to disperse some of the stench of blood. As if unable to bear watching the tragic scene any longer, the sun began to set, and the sky slowly darkened.

Cartloads of thick logs were brought out from Akakarat City and piled into small mountains in an open field.

As torches were tossed in, the bonfires were lit one after another. The flames soared into the sky, illuminating the entire camp and the weary but excited faces of the soldiers.

The soldiers gathered in their squads around the bonfires, their faces beaming with contentment and joy.

The air over the camp filled with the aroma of roasting meat and the smoky scent of burning wood. Laughter and cheers rose and fell from the soldiers who had survived to see this victory.

Tonight, they chose to forget the cruelty of the day’s battle and wholeheartedly indulge in the joy of their victory.

On low tables or simply on the ground before them, a feast was laid out: roasted mutton, chicken, and even beef—specialties of the grasslands. The meat sizzled over the flames, releasing an enticing aroma.

Juices dripped into the fire, making a SIZZLING sound that was enough to make one’s mouth water.

Besides the roasted meat, there were large cauldrons of wheat porridge simmering slowly over the fires, releasing a warm, comforting aroma.

The soldiers scooped the steaming porridge into wooden bowls and ate heartily. The simple meal seemed to wash away the day’s exhaustion.