Being a knight is not easy

Chapter 240 Reward
Suddenly, Ito's sword was drawn three inches from its sheath, its cold gleam reflecting the troop distribution marked on the map: "Your Excellency, their garrison is less than five hundred."

The so-called garrison was an army composed of free citizens from noble territories and the knightly class.

The slave soldiers were not considered part of the garrison.

In today's Zhan Ge Camp, slave soldiers are their largest source of manpower.

Robin's pupils contracted slightly.

He remembered the slaves he had rescued from the pastures, and the ferocious expression on Ironjaw's face whenever he mentioned the nobles of Middle-earth.

The anchor ring suddenly became hot, and the system screen displayed the latest statistics: [Currently available mobilizable forces: Knights x145, Grand Knights x5]

“Half a month.” Robin suddenly stood up, sparks flying as his Dragon Slayer Spear traced lines on the floor. “I will turn Crawford Territory into your backyard.”

Viscount Wilke's laughter startled the night crows roosting outside the window.

The old man took out a rusty key from a hidden compartment: "Do you know why our lineage was driven out of the Central Plains?" When the key was inserted into the mechanism behind the bookcase, a dusty black iron box was revealed inside. "Because we were too particular about rules."

The moment the black iron box was opened, a stench of aged blood mixed with moldy ash rushed out. Viscount Wilke's aged fingers traced the broken amethyst longsword inside the box; the tattered family crest on the hilt still showed signs of being scorched by flames.

“Three hundred years ago,” the old man’s voice suddenly became hoarse, “our lineage was the true direct line within the family.”

Robin saw a cold glint he had never seen before flash in his father's eyes.

When the parchment scroll in the box is unfolded, it reveals a faded battlefield drawing.

The corpses of thousands of warriors adorned with anchor emblems were piled high, while the banners on the distant city walls bore the coat of arms of the great nobles of Middle-earth.

“We have guarded the Demon Rift for generations.” Viscount Wilke’s fingernails dug into the oak tabletop. “According to ancestral tradition, we must sacrifice one-tenth of our harvest to the rift every year.” His cold laugh made the fireplace flames tremble. “But other families think it’s too wasteful.”

Ito suddenly knelt on one knee. He recognized the location on the map: "Is this the current royal hunting grounds?"

“Yes, they filled the rift.” The old lord picked up half a charred skull, the remains of the last garrison commander. “As a result, the following year, the abyssal monsters devoured half the province.” The bone slammed heavily onto the map. “And we became the scapegoats.”

Ito's knight's sword had somehow carved itself deep into the floor.

The man suddenly understood why the old lord always wiped that tattered armor late at night.

Every crack on it was slashed from behind by allies.

“Now,” Viscount Wilke placed the rusty key in Robin’s palm, “it’s time for our old friends in Middle-earth to remember.”

As the black iron box closed, the anchor emblem in the hidden compartment suddenly flashed with light.

What does it mean to truly "disregard the rules"?

Robin stepped down. This time, the battle against the barbarian army was a great success. In order to plunder the Earl of Crawford's territory, he decided to promote some more people.

Inside the council chamber of the Forerunner Castle, Robin sat upright in a gilded chair, his fingers rhythmically tapping the armrests.

Ito led twenty-three knight apprentices dressed in uniform leather armor into the hall, their eyes gleaming with determination.

"Young master, I've brought these young men with me." Ito laughed heartily, patting the shoulder of a young apprentice beside him. "They're all promising talents who grew up in the territory."

Robin's gaze swept over the young men, noticing the uniform double sword emblem above the anchor on their left arms. It was the distinctive mark of the Wilke family's trained assassins, representing absolute loyalty.

“Uncle Ito is right.” Robin nodded slightly. “I’ve taken all the elites with me, but we need to leave some strength in the territory.” He took out an exquisite amethyst box from his spatial ring and opened it gently.

Twenty-five power fruits, gleaming with a pale blue light, were neatly arranged among them, their energy fluctuations causing the young people present to involuntarily hold their breath.

“According to the rules!” Robin’s voice was steady and powerful. “Children of knight families can obtain a knight-level power fruit after ten years of service, and a grand knight-level fruit after thirty years.” His gaze sharpened. “But remember, you cannot own merit fields during your service.”

Ito took the box and nodded solemnly: "Don't worry, young master, they all know these rules."

He turned to the young people and said, "If you want power, you must exchange it for loyalty and merit!"

Robin looked at these energetic faces and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

These young people will become the backbone of the territory's future.

The Power Fruit is the best reward for their loyalty.

Robin will be able to see their loyalty ratings once they consume the Power-Power Fruit.

The ghost general's figure coalesced like ink in the candlelight, and as he knelt on one knee, wisps of undried blood seeped from the gaps in his armor.

He presented the parchment scroll with both hands. The map of Crawford's territory on the scroll was divided by different colored markings—red for granaries, black for mines, and purple for weak points in defense.

Robin lightly traced the edge of the scroll with his fingertip, and the candlelight suddenly surged, illuminating every mark on the map with crystal clarity. He abruptly looked up: "How far are you from becoming a legend?"

The sound of metallic friction came from beneath the demon general's mask: "Reporting to my lord, I have reached the peak of the Great Knight." He remained kneeling, but spiderweb-like cracks quietly appeared on the stone slabs of the ground.

"Oh, not bad!" Robin tossed him the intelligence: "If I let you lead the troops to plunder the entire earldom as quickly as possible, how long would it take me?"

What Robin needs most right now is time.

The ghost general raised his head, "Your subordinate can scrape the entire territory clean in just twenty days!"

"Twenty days?" Robin suddenly chuckled, the tip of his Dragon Slayer Spear lifting the Ghost General's chin. "Too long."

The light emanating from the Bauhinia Ring projected a countdown screen between the two: "Ten days to complete, and I will bestow upon you the peak fruit of a Great Knight; fifteen days, the fruit of an ordinary Great Knight; twenty days..."

The spear tip suddenly dropped three inches, "Only the Knight level."

The ghost general's bone armor creaked under the strain. Staring at the fluctuating numbers on the screen, he suddenly pounded his chest with his fist: "With just three hundred elite cavalry, I will make sure Crawford's territory is barren within ten days!"

He was determined to go all out to break the legend.

“Remember.” Robin sheathed his spear, the light screen transforming into starlight that seeped into the Ghost General’s breastplate. “If it takes more than twenty days, there will be nothing.” As he turned, his cloak swept across the map, just covering the gold marker that read “Earl’s Treasury.” “But if it exceeds the time limit…”

Suddenly, thunder roared outside the window, and lightning illuminated the suddenly contracting pupils beneath the demon general's mask.

He saw the Lord's shadow twist into the shape of a dragon on the wall.

(End of this chapter)