Knight: Becoming King of the World

Mace’s smile froze. A flash of confusion crossed his eyes, quickly replaced by anger.

He struggled to stand, but the pain from his wounds left him immobile.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Mace’s voice was hoarse.

’Is Henry toying with me? First, he feigns friendliness, then he suddenly turns hostile, and now he’s hypocritically sparing my life?!’

Bain stood up, frowning. He looked down at Mace without a hint of sympathy.

"Lord Baron Henry’s decision is not for you to question. The fact that he’s left you with your life is already the utmost benevolence."

On this continent, conflicts between nobles were brutal. The loser often didn’t even get to keep their life. That Henry had spared him was a rare act of mercy.

"So, should I thank him? Thank him for making me lose everything, for turning me into a laughingstock?"

Bain didn’t answer. He turned and walked away from Mace, heading toward the other side of the battlefield.

He knew Mace’s heart was filled with resentment, but nothing could change what had happened.

War is cruel. The victor is king, the loser is the bandit.

The surrendered Personal Guard, having been stripped of their armor and weapons, came forward to carry Mace away. Bain was even kind enough to leave two horses for Mace’s group of ten, who had been spared.

Mace was unwilling, but his Personal Guard knew what was good for them. They bowed and thanked Bain profusely, quickly placed Mace on a horse, accepted a tourniquet from a medic in Bain’s army, and hurried away.

To put it bluntly, their boss had lost and the company was finished. What was the point of being so stubborn?

On horseback, Mace’s gaze remained fixed on Bain’s figure until it disappeared from view. His heart was filled with a mix of emotions: anger, resentment, and even a sliver of gratitude toward Henry.

’Henry didn’t spare my life out of mercy.’

’He wanted to use this as a way to display his authority and power. He wanted all the nobles to know that anyone who opposed him, anyone who resisted him, would ultimately meet such a fate.’

’Sparing me was just to prove he wasn’t bloodthirsty.’

As for a good reputation, well, you can never have too much of that.

That night, Mace and his Personal Guard found a spot sheltered from the wind, where they made a simple camp and built a fire. The wound on his forearm had been crudely bandaged, but the pain still made it hard for him to sleep.

His armor had been stripped away as well. He and his men were now dressed in thick, cotton-padded clothes taken from serfs.

’Yes, these were serfs’ clothes! Henry’s serfs could afford to wear thick, padded cotton!’

’What kind of wealth did that imply? In the Caladia Empire, the lives of serfs were supposed to be harsh.’

In some of the poorer regions, serfs lived little better than livestock. Their food was meager, their homes dilapidated, and they often lacked adequate clothing to cover themselves.

Even in the core territories of the emperor and the Dukes, the lives of serfs were barely at the subsistence level.

Their food was just enough to fill their stomachs, but offered little nutrition. Their dwellings might shield them from the elements, but were usually overcrowded. Their clothes could ward off the bitter cold, but were far from comfortable.

’And yet, the serfs under Henry’s rule were all wearing thick, padded cotton? Did Henry rob the emperor’s treasury?’

Mace lay on the ground, his heart filled with bitterness. He had once believed he could change his own destiny and become an independent noble.

But now, he had nothing.

He looked at the Personal Guard around him. Their eyes were also filled with confusion and unease. They were once his pride, his most loyal and powerful Warriors.

But now, they were reduced to wearing serfs’ clothes, eating meager food, and living in this desolate land.

Mace sighed, closed his eyes, and forced himself to rest. ’Tomorrow is another day...’

In contrast to the dejected and bewildered Mace, Bain and Leon were in high spirits, especially Leon.

Leon’s performance on the battlefield had been outstanding. The archers and Grassland Warriors he led had successfully routed Mace’s flank, earning him the main credit for the victory.

This time, the entire army had taken over one hundred and sixty enemy heads and captured more than six hundred prisoners. In the military system of Henry’s army, this counted as a minor merit.

Their own army’s casualties were negligible, practically none. This was the result of an armored, professional army fighting an unarmored, ragtag force.

Leon sat by the campfire, taking large gulps of wine, a triumphant smile plastered on his face.

"Bain, see? We did a pretty good job this time, huh?" Leon said with a laugh, clapping Bain on the shoulder.

Bain nodded. He was in a good mood as well, but not as excited as Leon.

"Yes, Leon, we certainly did well this time." Bain smiled. ’Leon is a trustworthy comrade-in-arms.’

"Alright, Leon, we have to be up early tomorrow. Let’s get some rest," Bain said.

Leon nodded, stood up, dusted himself off, and headed for his tent. Bain remained seated by the campfire, his gaze piercing through the flames to stare at the starry sky.

This victory was just a small step on his long path. He still had a long way to go and many more battles to fight.

Bain knew Henry had high hopes for him, and he was determined to live up to them.

Meanwhile, inside his tent, a content Leon was already fast asleep, a satisfied smile on his face. His future was going to be bright.