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

"Please."

Wayne's voice was calm.

"what?"

A very soft whisper came from beside me—it came from Ronald.

This brother, who had recently been influenced by his brother to start reading books and pondering strategies, was clearly surprised by his decision to have a "secret talk" with the bandits.

Wayne knew that this choice would inevitably arouse suspicion among the villagers watching from afar, and might even shake the resolve of some.

But he had his own considerations.

……

What can you offer me?

Just now, Wayne learned that this bandit had come alone.

So, after thinking for a moment, he told Patton and the other cavalrymen to wait at the village entrance while he, Ronald, and the bandits talked together on a flat area in the southwest of the village.

Ronald naturally positioned himself between the two to protect them.

The bandit glanced at Ronald, whose murderous aura was faintly surging, grinned, and then turned his gaze to Wayne.

"The Baron is quite generous."

He lowered his voice, but it was still clear in the open space: "Our Black Blade Gang has some strength in the Phip Forest. As you are new here, sir, you need to establish yourself. We can provide you with a lot of convenience."

"Oh? Tell me about it."

Wayne's tone was flat.

"First, the message."

The scarred bandit held up a finger: "In this northern border region, we have ways of knowing which caravans pass through at what time, and what has happened to which lord's family."

This information will definitely be useful to you, sir.

Secondly, some "special" goods. The bandit revealed a knowing smile: "Salt, ironware, medicine, and even some rare items from further north, as long as the price is right, we can get them."

It was much cheaper than the caravans that traveled along the official roads and through ducal territories.

Of course, this requires you, sir, to also show some sincerity.

Wayne nodded, signaling him to continue.

"Our boss's meaning is very simple."

The bandit rubbed his hands together: "First and foremost, it's about food."

To be honest, sir, a portion of the grain from Timi Village had to be handed over to us before, especially since wild animals have become increasingly difficult to hunt recently. No matter what, we still have to get a share.

We know what you bought from the Duke—you bought nearly twenty tons of grain, but there weren't many people in the procession.

We need about eight tons of grain, plus one-tenth of the village's share.

He stared intently at Wayne: "In return, the Blackblade Gang guarantees not to harass your territory, and even... if you have any other 'trouble' that you can't handle yourself, we can help resolve it."

How about we all get what we need and make money together?

After listening, Wayne's face remained expressionless; he simply tilted his head slightly, as if deep in thought.

He wants almost half of his own food; he has quite an appetite.

"Seven tons, is that alright?"

After hearing this, the bandit seemed surprised by Wayne's cooperative attitude and secretly marveled at the wealth and power of the Duke's family: "I'll go back and ask."

"Yes, there's more."

Wayne suddenly asked a seemingly unrelated question: "Are the wild beasts getting harder and harder to kill lately?"

I need some meat, and I need to explain what's going on. Also, if I trade grain for it, what can you provide?

The bandits were taken aback for a moment, then laughed and said, "Sir, if you are willing to exchange grain or even salt and iron for it, we will do our best."

Although the animals—especially those in the southern snowfields—have inexplicably become stronger and more ferocious, there are still records of successful hunts of deer, rabbits… and even lone wolves and weakened bears.

"That's alright."

Wayne nodded, his gaze refocusing on the man's face, and suddenly asked, "You seem quite skilled and courageous. You're not just a messenger in the gang, are you?"

A hint of wariness flashed in the bandit's eyes, but after seeing the nobleman's appreciative gaze, he was more pleased with himself.

"Sir, you're too kind. There are many capable people in our Black Blade Gang. Someone like me is nothing special. It's just that my brothers are praising me."

"Oh?"

The bandits continued to sneer—but it was clearly more of a sneer than a sneer.

"So he was just a messenger, huh?"

For some reason, hearing Wayne's seemingly regretful tone, the scarred bandit's heart skipped a beat.

Just as he was pondering the meaning of those words, Wayne's voice suddenly turned cold: "Ronald, behead him on the spot."

Before the words were even finished!

The bandit's pupils constricted, his hair stood on end, and he roared almost instinctively as his machete was instantly drawn, accompanied by a sharp whistling sound! His reaction was incredibly fast!

However, Ronald's sword was faster!

The instant Wayne gave the order to exit, Ronald had already moved.

"clang!"

The gleaming sword light collided with the bandit's hastily parried cleaver, and the clanging of metal instantly sparked a shower of fire!

He felt a tremendous force coming from the blade, which made his arm go numb and caused him to stagger backward.

He was horrified; the knight's strength and speed far exceeded his expectations!

Before he could adjust, Ronald's second sword strike was already upon him!

He pressed his left hand on the saddle, using the momentum to spin rapidly. His longsword also drew a semi-circle, and a slanted slash swept across his chest and abdomen at lightning speed, tearing through his leather armor and spurting out a line of blood!

"what!"

The scarred bandit roared in pain, his eyes flashing with ferocity.

"Baron! I'm just a messenger! Killing me is pointless!"

He screamed, trying to fight for a chance at survival.

Wayne sat upright on his horse, his eyes cold and his voice flat: "There are many intelligent people, and quite a few who are both literate and skilled in martial arts."

But you should have been prepared when you thought you could use my life to climb to power.

The scarred bandit could no longer hear what Wayne was saying.

Ronald's sword strikes were like a whirlwind, the third strike deflecting the cleaver he desperately swung, and the fourth strike—a straight, swift flash of cold light—suddenly grazed his neck.

The bandit's hideous head flew into the air, spraying a cloud of blood, before landing with a "plop" on the snow not far away, its eyes still wide with disbelief.

The headless corpse stood frozen for a moment before collapsing to the ground with a thud, its blood gushing out like water from a tap, staining large patches of snow red.

A cold wind swept by, carrying with it a strong, fishy smell.

Ronald straightened his sword, looked at Wayne, and asked in his eyes.

Wayne shifted his gaze from the corpse to the direction of the northwest forest.

He was keenly aware that bandits were a malignant tumor that could be used in the short term but must ultimately be eradicated.

Because no matter how civilized they appear on the surface, or how tempting their proposed cooperation may be, their core objective is always plunder.

If a baron is relatively weak, then their goal will be to imprison and control him.

If one has potential or poses a threat, then their goal will definitely be to kill one.

Therefore, his ultimate goal has always been the same—to wipe them out.

The reason for pulling the other party out for a "secret talk" was simply to assess whether they could handle the strength of the bandits.

Seven tons of grain is acceptable, which means that the total number of bandits is no more than a hundred—there are not many grain-producing areas in the Northwest.

Their hunting abilities also prove that they are not as strong as Ronald, who can reliably defeat the Grizzlies in infantry mode.

Since we can handle them, we should strike first.

This scarred bandit is exceptional in courage, skill, and eloquence, and is far more powerful than any ordinary gang member.

Killing him would be like severing one of the Black Blade Gang's claws, which would not only weaken the enemy's fighting power but also deter any potential wavering elements within our own ranks.

"Take his head and bring it back to the village."

Wayne pulled the reins—there were other people and things to deal with in the village.