Knight: Becoming King of the World

Day by day, time passed, proving Henry’s ideas and Claude’s suspicions correct.

The army continued its march toward Gasil, and just as they’d expected, they encountered more and more trade caravans on the road.

Some of these caravans came from the eastern grasslands, carrying furs and horses; others came from the Northern Mountainous Region, bringing precious ores and armor.

However, despite the endless stream of caravans, not a single one was headed toward Hobia.

Henry sat in his carriage, his brow furrowed. He peered through the curtains, observing every caravan that passed.

He noticed that the merchants and guards in these caravans all wore urgent, worried expressions, as if they were desperate to leave this desert.

"Claude, go and find out why none of these caravans are going to Hobia... Don’t ask directly. Avoid arousing their suspicion."

Claude accepted the order and left. After a bit of conversation, he returned to Henry’s carriage.

"My lord, the caravan leader said they’ve heard about some unusual developments near Hobia. The Lizardmen weren’t completely driven off. Instead, they’ve gone into hiding in the desert, preparing to launch a much larger attack.

He also said that some of the desert tribes have started banding together to raid passing caravans."

Henry’s frown deepened. ’News about the Lizardmen shouldn’t have spread this widely. Something’s strange.’

If this news was true, the situation in Hobia would be far more dire than they had imagined.

"Claude, pass down the order: increase our pace. We’ll aim to reach Gasil before sunset tomorrow."

Claude nodded and immediately went to relay Henry’s command.

The army’s marching speed noticeably increased. The soldiers were exhausted, so tired and weary each day that they would fall asleep the moment they lay down.

Seeing how hard his soldiers were working, Henry promised that on the night they arrived in Gasil, everyone could get drunk, rest well, spend the entire next day relaxing in the city, and then set out by ship on the third day.

After several consecutive days of forced marching, Henry’s army finally saw the distant silhouette of Gasil on the afternoon of the next day.

The city walls looked particularly magnificent in the afterglow of the setting sun. The sight of the towering spires and sturdy gates brought a sigh of relief to everyone.

Long-absent smiles appeared on the soldiers’ weary faces. They knew this marked the end of their arduous journey.

Gasil was completely different from Hobia. It was close to the Inner Sea, with a temperate climate. Several rivers flowed through the city, providing abundant water.

Along both sides of the rivers, lush date palm trees grew in abundance, their green leaves swaying gently in the breeze, lifting one’s spirits.

These trees not only provided shade for the city but also a rich source of food for its residents.

Henry also noticed that the land around Gasil was actually quite fertile. A significant portion could be cultivated, unlike the pure desert surrounding Hubia City.

The farmlands here were planted with various grains and vegetables, ensuring a plentiful food supply for the city.

These rich natural resources had made Gasil a prosperous trade hub, attracting merchants and adventurers from all over.

Water was the most critical element for developing any settlement or gathering place.

The arrival of Henry’s army caused no stir. They simply found a spot outside the city walls to make camp.

The Civil Servant in Gasil’s city hall had no interest in a noble’s Private Army; nobles frequently passed through with their own soldiers.

Henry had the soldiers rest at the camp outside the city, while he entered with Bain, Selas, Roland, Vasco, Philip, and his other officers.

In Gasil’s market, Henry and his officers saw a vast array of goods. From exquisite silks to rare spices, from delicate crafts to practical tools, everything was available.

The prosperity on display astonished Henry. A city’s wealth could largely be judged by the variety of goods in its open-air market.

And Gasil’s market could already rival that of the imperial capital, Lukaron. ’Is this the extent of the desert regions’ wealth?’

Henry and his officers strolled through Gasil’s market. The din was constant: the shouts of vendors, the haggling of customers, and the melodious sound of a flute drifting from a distant tavern all testified to Gasil’s vibrancy.

Henry, dressed in an imperial robe and followed by a group of well-dressed men with Long Swords at their waists, was a striking and eye-catching sight.

And yet, the Free People and merchants only spared him a glance for a few seconds before going back to their business.

Henry nodded. ’It seems the Free People of Gasil are quite well-off, and many nobles must pass through here.’

"These vegetables were all picked this morning. Look at the color, so fresh!" a member of the Free People enthusiastically pitched his goods to a merchant.

A member of the Free People in a white robe, holding a basket of fresh vegetables, was talking to a merchant.

The merchant carefully inspected the vegetables and nodded in satisfaction.

"Your vegetables are indeed good. I’ll give you a fair price."

Henry continued walking and saw a spice shop. Business at the shop was booming.

Henry was stunned. ’In the eastern grasslands, spices are supplied to the open-air markets in limited quantities. Here, they’re sold freely?’

Henry moved closer for a look. The shop was filled with all kinds of spices: pepper and cinnamon from the far east, as well as vanilla and mint, which were specialties of the western regions.

"Shopkeeper, give me an ounce of cinnamon and half a pound of vanilla," a customer called out.

The shopkeeper skillfully weighed the spices while replying, "Of course, right away. Our spices are all of the highest quality. I guarantee they’ll make your dishes more delicious."

Bain and the others following Henry were also a little shocked—all except Leon, who had grown up in Shalas, a true pearl of maritime trade.

As they looked around, they saw many other shops, such as clothiers selling exquisite silks, jewelers selling all kinds of gems, and various small shops offering different services.

"My lord, this place is very rich. It seems much wealthier than Razekh," Bain commented.

Henry nodded. Bain was right. Gasil was the most prosperous desert city they had seen so far.

As Henry and his officers continued their stroll through the streets of Gasil, their eyes were drawn to a magnificent building.

The building’s facade was carved with intricate patterns, and several attendants in clean uniforms stood at the entrance.

"What is this place?" Henry asked curiously.

Claude went up to ask and immediately returned, his eyes shining. "My lord, it’s a bathhouse!"

Henry’s eyes lit up. It had been a long time since he’d had the chance to enjoy the comfort of a proper bath. Even with Ailia frequently helping him wipe down, he still felt sticky.

How could a noble who couldn’t accept the absence of toilet paper possibly endure not being able to bathe?

"Shall we go get cleaned up?" Henry suggested.

His officers and personal attendants exchanged smiles, then followed Henry’s lead, laughing as they entered the bathhouse.

The bathhouse interior was luxuriously decorated. The walls were inlaid with exquisite... ’mosaic’ tiles?

A faint, pleasant fragrance filled the air, making Henry feel as if he were back in the imperial capital.

The service from the bathhouse attendants was meticulous. They guided Henry’s group to the changing rooms and provided them with clean bathrobes.

Generally speaking, when nobles visited a bathhouse, they typically indulged in the full package: soaking, bathing, drinks, desserts, a massage, and rest. Thus, the staff had to be especially attentive.

What if the noble was pleased and, on a whim, decided to tip them in Dinars?

Henry entered the bathing area. He saw several pools of various sizes and chose a warm one, slowly stepping into the water and feeling its comforting heat envelop him.

"This is just fantastic," Henry sighed contentedly.

His officers and personal attendants also entered the pools, one after another, letting out exclamations of amazement. It wasn’t that they were uncultured, but it felt like an eternity since they had experienced something like this.

Henry soaked in the pool for a while. His skin turned red, his eyes brightened, his head cleared, and the worries in his mind faded away.

He glanced over at Claude, the one who had advised him earlier, and saw he was already about to fall asleep in the pool!

An Attendant serving them overheard their conversation and deduced they weren’t locals. He approached Henry’s side and asked, "Sir, would you care for a coconut ice? It’s a special cold drink of Gasil."

Henry looked at the Attendant, who was bowing slightly, and asked curiously, "A cold drink? Coconut ice? You have ice here?"

"Of course."

"Alright, bring us some. One for each of us. And while you’re at it, bring some of your local desserts, like dates, *shami suanfen*, and camel hump."

The Attendant flashed a genuine smile, bowed, and left. Soon, a group of attendants entered, carrying trays with plates and ceramic cups.

"Sir, this is the coconut ice."

Henry took a sip. It was actually ice. Made with local coconut meat and vanilla, it was cool and refreshing, instantly invigorating him.

"This drink is truly delicious. You should all try it."

Claude picked up his cup, took a small sip, and let out a satisfied sigh.

’Sweet! Cold! So satisfying!’

Bain had a female attendant cut a small piece of the camel hump. He put it in his mouth and said, somewhat uncertainly, "I think I just ate a big piece of fat... It’s very fragrant, but I can’t take a second bite."

Seeing the big eater defeated by a camel hump, Henry and the others immediately took a small piece each to try for themselves.

The verdict? Fragrant! But greasy.

The dates were excellent, though. Dipped in sugar, they were wonderfully sweet. Paired with a sip of coconut ice, it was truly heaven on earth.

Although the desserts and cold drinks were delicious, they didn’t interrupt Henry and his men’s bathing routine.

They weren’t here to eat, after all!

With the help of female attendants, Henry and his men began to wash themselves with the soap and perfumes provided by the bathhouse.

Finally, they all lay down on thin blankets, smiling as they received massages from the female attendants.

’Soaking in a bath and getting a massage... what a wonderful thing. If I could live like this every day, I’d even be willing to have Gasil as my fief.’