Being a knight is not easy

Chapter 247 The Wolf family

Devon's gaze swept over the headless corpse in the center of the hall. Horn's hands were bound behind his back with his knight's cloak, and the silver griffin banner, a symbol of glory, was stuck in his severed neck.

Even more chilling was the fact that a crooked "seven" mark had been carved into the corpse's chest with the tip of a sword.

Suddenly, the neighing of warhorses came from outside the window.

Devon staggered to the window and saw a group of black-armored knights leaving through the morning mist.

The leader's black helmet gleamed coldly in the morning sun, and hanging beside the saddle was Stander's head, which had begun to decay.

Clearly, the black-armored knight deliberately waited until they saw him before leaving.

"Immediately! Send a message to the capital immediately!" Devon collapsed to the ground, knocking over the ink bottle, the dark liquid staining Horn's death report. "Tell them...tell them a formidable opponent has arrived at the border, and the Wilke family is suspected of having a powerful Order Knight."

The servants exchanged silent glances.

The capital of the kingdom.

"waste!"

Inside the gilded hall, Emperor Rebaton shattered the entire obsidian desk with a single blow.

The flying pebbles cut the messenger's cheek as he knelt on the ground, and blood dripped onto the royal carpet embroidered with golden griffins.

“Three days! A full three days!” The emperor’s voice echoed under the dome, making the crystal chandeliers jingle. “My knights of order, my border allies, just like that—” He suddenly grabbed the battle report and slammed it against the wall, the parchment turning to dust upon impact.

The palace steward quietly took a half step back.

He noticed that the emperor's sleeves, embroidered with gold thread, were trembling slightly—not with anger, but with fear.

For the first time in twenty years, he saw a sense of apprehension in the eyes of this iron-fisted monarch.

"Messenger!" Rebaton suddenly turned around, the gust of wind from his royal robes overturning the candlestick. "Immediately recall the Eastern Legion and blockade all trade routes to Wilke Territory!" His fingers unconsciously caressed the ruby ​​on his sword, which was made from the skull of the previous Eastern Duke.

The steward suddenly noticed that the emperor's posture was a bit strange; his left leg was bent three degrees more than usual.

"Your Majesty," the head guard hesitated before speaking, "should we send an envoy first?"

"Shut up!" Rebaton's roar shattered the twelve stained-glass windows.

Sunlight streamed through the broken stained glass, casting dappled patterns on Rebaton's face.

The kneeling servants suddenly narrowed their eyes. On the emperor's cold profile, two fine, dark gold scales appeared, gleaming with a metallic sheen in the sunlight.

"Summon the Wolford family to see me." Rebaton's voice suddenly became unusually calm, as if his previous rage had never occurred. He raised his hand and gently stroked the scales on his face; as his fingertips traced them, the scales slowly disappeared into his skin.

The palace steward immediately bowed and withdrew, his back already soaked with cold sweat.

He knew better than anyone what the scales on the emperor's face meant.

That is the most core bloodline characteristic of the royal family, the legendary proof of being a "dragon descendant".

The gatekeeper was a terrifying dragon.

“The Eastern Frontier’s army is insufficient.” Rebaton turned and walked towards the throne, his steps frighteningly steady. “We need a true second-tier powerhouse to oversee things.” His fingers tapped lightly on the armrest, his gaze falling on the border map on the wall. “Since the Wilke family is a branch of the Wolford family…”

A cold smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

"Then let the Wolford family clean house themselves." Hurried footsteps echoed outside the hall.

The steward led a tall man wearing a silver-gray cloak into the room quickly.

The moment the man removed his hood, the temperature in the entire hall seemed to plummet.

"Your Majesty." The man knelt on one knee, his voice deep and resonant like a dragon's roar, "The Wolft family awaits your command."

Bob Wolfe knelt on one knee and took the intelligence scroll that the emperor tossed to him. The moment his fingertips touched the parchment, a faint bloodline sensation made him frown slightly.

“Your Majesty is wise.” Bob’s voice had a distinctive metallic quality. “Since the ‘Bloodline Severance Decree’ was issued in the 237th year of the previous king’s reign, the Wolford family and its branches in the four regions have…” He tapped his fingertips lightly on the scales on his chest, producing a crisp ringing sound, “…have no patriarchal ties whatsoever.”

Rebaton sneered, and the ruby ​​on the armrest of his throne suddenly emitted an eerie light: "I remember the Wolf family's 'Breath of the Storm Forbidden Technique'." As he leaned forward, the newly grown scales at his temples reflected a cold light, "...most lethal to those of the same bloodline?"

Bob's vertical pupils suddenly contracted.

His left hand, hidden beneath the scales, unconsciously reached for his heart, where a forbidden incantation, passed down through generations, was imprinted and was now faintly burning.

He knew better than anyone that the so-called "severance order" was nothing but a political posturing; how could the deep-rooted blood ties be severed by a single document?
“Three days later.” The emperor turned and flicked his sleeve, his royal robes sweeping past with a burst of scorching dragon breath. “Either bring back the head of the Wilke family.” The ruby ​​on the imperial desk suddenly shattered, the shards drawing blood from Bob’s face. “Or, bring me the head of Nash Wolford.”

The torrential rain was washing over the bluestone steps outside the palace.

Bob stood in the rain, letting the cold rain soak his armor, but it couldn't cool the surging anger and chill in his chest.

"Lord Nash," he murmured, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the family insignia beneath the scales on his chest.

That elderly Order Knight was the last pillar of the Wolford family and also his respected mentor since childhood.

My memory suddenly flashed back to twenty years ago.

It was another night of torrential rain when young Wilke was stripped of his family crest and driven from his home.

Once a conflict of interest arises, many of these separated families will stand on the opposite side.

Bob hid behind a pillar, watching that stubborn figure disappear into the rain.

Wilke's final glance back before leaving, that burning resentment, remains etched in his memory to this day.

This was the only way for most nobles to go to the four borders at that time. If they continued to develop in the name of their families, the royal family would never allow them to develop, in order to avoid them becoming a powerful force that could check and balance the royal family in the future.

Originally, most nobles disregarded this, but as it turned out, after the severance order was issued, although the nobles of the Central Plains and the nobles of the Four Realms were still related, after so many years of development, the newly established families also had new leaders, as well as their own territories and interests.

"So it was you." Bob clenched his fist, blood seeping from the gaps in his scales. "Wilk."

Rainwater slid down his cheeks, mingling with the bloodstains.

He looked up at the gloomy sky, as if he saw the mockery of fate.

The emperor ordered him to personally kill his own bloodline, either the exiled brother or the elder who had protected the family for many years.

"Is this your revenge, Wilke?" Bob chuckled coldly. "Let me end this with my own hands."

No matter which path he chooses, the blood of the Wolff family is destined to stain his hands.

(End of this chapter)