Being a knight is not easy

Chapter 298 Tongwen
After receiving orders, Robin ostensibly followed Sylvain's instructions to pursue the Western Rangers, but in reality, he secretly met up with Ironjaw, Will, and others.

They had their own plan, and the legendary knights of the heart of Middle-earth became the fruits of his power.

Of course, before leaving, Wind Chime killed Baron Rick under the cover of night, making it look like a suicide.

Wind Chime harbored resentment towards Baron Rick for his previous rudeness, and she secretly sneaked into Baron Rick's residence under the cover of night.

Baron Rick was preoccupied with the Western Rangers' breach of the blockade and was completely unaware of the approaching danger.

Wind Chime appeared behind Baron Rick like a ghost, and the dagger in her hand swiftly plunged into the back of Baron Rick's neck.

Baron Rick didn't even have time to let out a scream before he collapsed and died.

Feng Ling skillfully arranged the scene to resemble a suicide, then quietly left.

When Baron Rick's body was discovered the next day, everyone assumed he had committed suicide due to the immense pressure of dealing with the Westerlands Rangers.

Moonlight streamed through the stained glass windows, casting dappled shadows on the stone floor.

Robin stood in the center of the empty hall, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the dents on the hilt of his sword.

A faint, ethereal fragrance suddenly seeped into the air, like dried roses tucked between ancient books, carrying with it some ancient scent he couldn't quite describe.

"You've finally decided to go." The voice emerged from the shadows, gliding through the silent space like silk.

Robin turned around abruptly.

Lady Aishar was already standing three steps away, the moonlight streaming down her silver-grey robe.

Her gesture of raising her hand to lightly brush away her veil caused the subtle fragrance to waft again, and Robin's brows immediately furrowed—the scent made him extremely irritated.

"Madam." He bowed slightly, swallowing his instinctive urge to back away as his Adam's apple bobbed.

The crystal chandelier suddenly moved on its own, the refracted light dappling Lady Elsa's face. Her deep, unfathomable eyes locked onto Robin, starlight seeming to gleam in the depths of her pupils. "The gatekeeper of Middle-earth," she said, each word carefully chosen, "is not an object of battle."

Robin felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

As a mid-stage Order Realm expert who had experienced numerous life-or-death battles, he had never seen Lady Aishar speak in such a tone—it was not a warning, but rather like a deathbed instruction.

"What exactly are they?" Robin's voice tightened in his throat.

“The ancient guardians of Antis Island.” Lady Aishar suddenly stepped forward, the moonlight illuminating the intricate dark patterns on her cuffs, the runes writhing eerily in the light. “Each one is a living legend, the pinnacle of order? No, they are the very embodiment of order.”

Robin heard the soft clicking of his teeth.

“Since they are so powerful,” Robin forced himself to speak, only to find his voice hoarse and unlike his own, “why do they tolerate outsiders?”

“Drawing a circle around oneself.” Lady Aisha suddenly laughed, a laugh that made Robin’s stomach ache. “Their power resonates with the earth’s veins, just like…” She suddenly reached out and pressed her hand on Robin’s chest, and he immediately felt his heart being gripped by an invisible hand. “A fish out of water, no matter how fierce, will suffocate.”

Robin staggered backward, a chill creeping through him from the marble floor.

Mrs. Aishar's hand hung in the air, her fingertips still faintly glowing with silver light.

“Remember this feeling.” As she withdrew her hand, her sleeves billowed like midnight waves. “If you were to meet a grey-robed man in the Middle-earth, even making eye contact would be a luxury.”

The chandelier suddenly stopped, and all the light spots focused simultaneously on Robin's feet, forming a dazzling halo.

When he looked up again, Mrs. Aishar had retreated to the boundary between moonlight and shadow, her figure beginning to blur.

"Madam!" Robin reached out, but only managed to grasp a wisp of fading fragrance.

The sound of her footsteps, like fallen leaves brushing against bluestone, was like the sound of wind chimes. She stopped three steps behind Robin.

“My dear,” her voice was as soft as a wisp of smoke, “have you met the lady?” Robin did not turn around.

Mrs. Aishar's warning still echoed in his ears, but what was clearer was the surging life force within him—a river formed by countless streams flowing ceaselessly through his meridians.

"Are you still going to the Middle Kingdom?" Wind Chime asked again, this time with a hint of tension in her voice.

The crisp sound of knuckles snapping together was particularly jarring in the silence.

Robin slowly turned around, the moonlight shining directly into his eyes, where a kind of almost hungry light surged.

"Go." The word was squeezed out from between his teeth, cold and hard like metal scraping.

The night wind at the border suddenly became sharp, cutting painfully into people's faces.

Robin knew that staying here would never allow him to reach the true pinnacle of power—those comfortable practices and methodical meditations were like trying to scoop up the ocean with a spoon.

The effects of the Power Fruit are the true shortcut to success.

He instinctively touched his chest, where more than just his heart was beating.

Hundreds of seeds breathe in the darkness, each connected to a host far away.

Those diligent cultivators will never know that a tiny wisp of the life force they gather each night will pass through the seed and flow into their bloodline.

A thousand streams become a river, and a hundred rivers flow into the sea; this accumulation made his cultivation speed almost sinful.

The silver bells of the wind chimes suddenly tinkled without any wind, their clear sound startling Robin from his thoughts.

He looked toward the Middle Kingdom, where dark red clouds churned on the horizon, resembling congealed scabs.

“More fruit is needed,” he muttered to himself, his thumb unconsciously rubbing the hilt of his sword.

Every word seemed poisoned: "More killing is needed."

The following morning, Robin led five slave troops to pursue the Rangers.

The sunlight shone on them, reflecting a scene full of determination.

They were lined up neatly, and although they were slave soldiers, they had already taken on the appearance of an elite force after Robin's training.

Sylvain also kindly gave him a proclamation, allowing him to seek help from the local lords nearby.

Sylvain's actions were partly to help Robin better complete the pursuit mission, and partly as a recognition of Robin's previous performance.

This document is like a special key in this land, capable of unlocking the resource gates of local lords.

For example, providing food or sending troops to assist.

With this document, Robin had more options to deal with potential shortages of supplies or difficulties in combat.

However, Sylvain also had his reasons for doing this; he wanted to test Robin's leadership and diplomatic skills in this way.

Of course, to accomplish all this, at the very least, Robin's group must be stripped of their slave status and transformed into a border guard force of the kingdom.

This presents a tremendous opportunity for Robin and his slave troops.

This not only means that their status will be elevated, but also that they will be formally accepted by the kingdom and become members of the system.

(End of this chapter)