King of the North: My Lord's Diary Weekly Summary

Snowflakes fell from the leaden sky, and the surrounding barren snowfields instantly turned gray.

Wayne Lancaster pulled on the reins, and his Northland horse puffed out thick white smoke as its hooves gently pawed at the frozen ground.

According to the pocket watch, it is now 17:21 PM.

The days are short in the north; the sun sets before 5:30 p.m.

Wayne squinted and looked ahead—all that remained was an endless expanse of white.

"Set up camp on the spot."

His voice was faint in the howling wind, but the knight Ronald beside him quickly nodded and went to the rear to give instructions.

Knight Wright of the forward reconnaissance team also reined in his horse and returned.

Soon, the team of fewer than thirty people stopped in a sheltered spot and began mechanically performing the same actions they had repeated countless times over the past five days: unloading cargo, tying up horses, shoveling snow, and setting up tents.

Wayne did not dismount, but simply watched quietly.

A week ago, Wayne, a philosophy graduate from a non-elite university, was taken away by a truck while delivering food.

So he traveled to the Kingdom of Byron and became the Duke's seventh son.

From an orphan rider to the heir of a great nobleman, Wayne felt he had struck it rich.

At that time, he was sitting in his study, where the fireplace was filled with fragrance, flirting with a beautiful blonde girl, his fingertips tracing her slightly flushed cheeks.

At that time, his biggest worry was that his father scolded him again for being frivolous and unambitious, bringing shame to the family.

Then, the eldest brother, Leo, died.

He died on his way to the North as a pioneering baron, responding to the kingdom's call to action and help stabilize the kingdom's frontier.

To this, the Duke simply sighed and said to him, "Leo is gone."

you go."

There were no questions, no explanations, and not even a second glance at the son.

Perhaps in his eyes, "the womanizing Wayne" was just a slightly better piece of trash than "the pipe-smoking Leo".

Thus, Wayne became "Baron Wayne the Pioneer," and with 1000 gold coins, two knights, fifteen cavalrymen, and several carts of grain, he embarked on this road of no return.

He wanted to survive, so instead of taking a carriage, he consciously began to train himself while riding a horse.

Going from being a rider to a rider can be considered a return to his original profession.

The campsite quickly took shape: three tents were arranged in a triangle, with a campfire lit in the center, dispelling a small circle of darkness.

Hank, the veteran in charge of the meals, threw dried meat and hard green beans into the iron pot, the bubbling sound of the broth was particularly clear in the silence.

"Lord Wayne, the soup is ready."

Ronald walked over carrying a wooden bowl and smiled at Wayne.

He said the word "adult" awkwardly because he and Wright were Wayne's childhood companions—his servants in their childhood.

Although the original owner, Wayne, was idle, incompetent, and always liked to philander, he was not a person with aristocratic airs.

He treats all women equally, regardless of their background—he only cares about their feelings and their figures.

Similarly, he treated men equally, promoting his close peers to knighthood—under the pretext of needing reliable sparring partners in the noble training camp.

That is why, even though they knew that Wayne was about to go to the North and that he was likely to die, Ronald and Wright still took the initiative to express their determination to the Duke to follow and escort him.

Wayne took the hot soup and sipped it.

It wasn't hot, and it had a salty, fishy meaty taste; it wasn't tasty.

He sipped his drink, his gaze sweeping over the group gathered around the fire—two knights, Ronald and Wright, who were quite capable and could be relied upon; and fifteen conscripted cavalrymen with blank stares, who were barely considered good, but most of them were filled with despair for the future.

Wayne had overheard their conversations. Apart from veterans like Hank who remained optimistic, most of them believed they were nothing more than casualties of their own playboy ways.

If it weren't for the two young knights leading the team, someone in the group would probably have already stolen the gold coins and run away.

"Brother, get some rest."

After finishing his drink, Wayne handed the bowl back and turned to crawl into his tent.

The inside of the tent was not much better than the outside; the felt could block the wind, but not the pervasive chill.

He took off his cold outer armor, wrapped himself tightly in a blanket, and curled up on a mat covered with animal hides.

"If all goes well, I can have a good night's rest tomorrow under the hospitality of Duke Quintu of the North..."

Then we'll have delicious roast chicken and northern seafood to enjoy again—they might even be fresher than in the south!

Wayne sniffed. It only took him one night to adapt to the change from simple to luxurious, but he had spent the last five days in anxiety and arduous travel.

Along the way, they not only ate poorly and suffered from the cold, but also encountered two wolf attacks—luckily, the cavalry was professional, otherwise the Duke would have had to send another brother to the North.

Outside the tent, the wind howled mournfully, and the light from the campfire shone through the gaps in the felt, casting flickering dark spots inside the tent.

Inside the entire tent, only the book-like mark on Wayne's palm remained, gleaming with a very faint silver luster.

This mark appeared on his palm when he traveled through time.

However, it hasn't reacted at all since it crossed over a week ago.

Wayne closed his eyes, and fatigue and sleepiness enveloped him instantly.

Just as he was about to sink into darkness—

My palms suddenly became burning hot!

"hiss--"

Wayne suddenly opened his eyes and gasped.

He heard the rustling sound of pages turning and saw a silvery image appear in his field of vision.

[August 21, Arthurian calendar 324]

It's so cold in the North! You wrap yourself tightly in your blanket, thinking that you could sleep more comfortably if it were a little warmer.

The raiders are coming, and you can smell burning.

You're fast asleep.

Your second brother, Viscount Klaus, is very satisfied.

The text remained in view for three seconds before the page-like phantom retracted, shrinking back into the palm of the hand and transforming back into the silver mark.

Wayne sat up.

Outside the tent, the wind still whistled.

Hank was humming an off-key old song, a conscript was snoring, and the horses occasionally snored—everything seemed normal.

But his back was already soaked with cold sweat.

Klaus was his second elder brother and one of the Duke of Lancaster's most favored heirs.

The second brother who always had a smile on his face and liked to pat him on the shoulder and say, "Little brother has grown taller again."

The second brother who was gentle and refined in front of his father and obedient and considerate at his mother's feet.

That... the second brother who took over the three manors under his eldest brother Leo's name immediately after Leo's death.

"Damn it... Why do you have to be so ruthless? I clearly don't want to fight you for the inheritance—I just want to be a carefree prince..."

Wayne has realized the situation—not only has his father, the Duke, treated him as a pawn, not only does the dangerous North want to devour him, but even his brothers and sisters, who have already gained enough wealth and status, want to kill him!

He didn't want to die. He had been given a second chance at life, and he had money, territory, a distinguished background, loyal subordinates, and now even a cheat code that allowed him to foresee danger...

Wayne gritted his teeth and looked at the iron sword beside the bed.

He put on his armor and stepped out of the tent.