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

Wayne ultimately agreed to Ronald's proposal—to hand over his own safety and complete control of the battle to them.

The bed in Old Gordon's guest room wasn't as soft, but it had some cashmere and straw added, making it much more comfortable than where Wayne had slept since leaving Central.

He was nervous and anxious, but he knew that since he had entrusted the most dangerous night to Ronald and Wright, the only thing he could do now was to rest as soon as possible and then take over for them.

Let those crises and issues that need to be resolved get out of your mind for now!

Wayne closed his eyes and focused his mind on activating the frost raven glands in his chest.

The cold energy slowly contracted and expanded under his control, like another breath of his own.

A chill ran through his veins, gradually suppressing the turbulent thoughts churning in his mind—anxiety about food, reflections on the bandits, worries about Ronald…

His breathing gradually calmed down.

Wayne felt that his body was truly different—the fatigue and the icy chill were intertwined so harmoniously that sleepiness suddenly overwhelmed him.

He fell asleep in this state.

On the west side of the village, Ronald was leading four cavalrymen in making final adjustments to the defenses.

"All citizens, please assemble in the southeast area now!"

Ronald gathered the villagers in the southeast, which saved firewood and further reduced the area to be defended—and avoided direct confrontation with the main force of the bandits and street fighting in the familiar village houses.

In the southeastern farmland, Wright was chewing on a piece of bitter grass stem that he carried with him.

This was the third one he used tonight; the bitter and spicy juice stimulated his taste buds, barely dispelling his sleepiness.

Wright stood on a slightly higher mound, methodically arranging the work throughout the entire farm area.

"Everyone, gather at these plots of land in the middle and divide them up..."

Inside the makeshift rest tent, Hank and Anke tossed and turned, wrapped in blankets.

Both were veterans and knew the importance of forcing themselves to rest at times like this, but their ears were uncontrollably picking up every sound outside—the sound of the wind, the sounds of farming, and even the faint barking of dogs in the distance.

……

When Wayne opened his eyes again, the dazzling sunlight was already streaming in through the window, casting bright spots of light on the floor in front of the bed.

Wayne sat up abruptly and pulled a pocket watch from his pocket.

The watch cover opened with a click.

The hands on the dial clearly pointed to 1:47 PM.

"13:47...?!"

Wayne practically jumped out of bed.

He overslept, and slept for most of the day!

A wave of guilt and the anxiety he felt before going to sleep surged into his mind, but Wayne quickly suppressed it.

He rushed to the window and pushed the wooden window open forcefully.

The afternoon sun streamed in, making him squint.

Outside the window, in the fields southeast of the village, the villagers were still busy in the snow, but their activities were clearly smaller—concentrated in the two largest grain fields closest to the village.

Fortunately.

It seems that nothing major happened last night, and Wright did indeed follow his instructions to shrink the harvesting area and concentrate efforts on preserving the most important parts.

But this sense of relief lasted only a few seconds.

What followed was a deeper worry—how is Ronald?

With so few men, could he really escape unscathed from an attack by dozens of bandits?

Wayne quickly dressed, put on his leather armor, grabbed his sword, and rushed out of the guest room—waiting for him outside was a horse that must have been tied up there long ago.

Wayne leaped onto the horse, used the sword on the side of the horse to cut the reins, then swung the reins and pulled his legs back, directing the horse to gallop towards the farmland.

……

On the edge of the farmland, Wright sat beside a makeshift shed, his face deathly pale.

It's not pale, but the grayish-white that comes from prolonged lack of sleep and exhaustion.

His eyes seemed to have gotten bigger, and he looked more energetic—but this was precisely a sign of extreme weakness.

Hearing footsteps, he slowly turned his head, his movements sluggish.

When he saw Wayne, Wright raised his hand and pointed to a young woman standing next to him—brown hair, a pretty woman with a pleasing appearance, not tall but well-endowed.

She is Emma, ​​the eldest daughter of the blacksmith Glenn.

"grown ups."

Wright practically forced the words out: "Emma did very well last night...she's quite capable...let her take over from you."

Wayne stepped forward and put his arm around his shoulder: "Go and rest, you've worked hard."

Wright didn't try to be brave; he simply nodded, turned, and shuffled toward the temporary tent not far away.

Before Wayne could even crawl into the tent, he turned his gaze to the blacksmith's eldest daughter.

Glenn had said that he wanted to train his eldest daughter Emma to be an office worker, but Wayne didn't expect her to show such good abilities at this time.

Unlike her usual gentle demeanor, her face was expressionless. She simply and clearly reported to Wayne: "The harvest is almost complete. The villagers are divided into five teams, with one team working on the finishing touches every hour. They are in good spirits—"

Wayne nodded. Emma's report was very complete and efficient, but the narrative focus still seemed immature.

"stop."

Wayne raised his hand to interrupt.

Emma immediately stopped talking and looked at him quietly.

"Let's start with Ronald."

Wayne stared into her eyes: "How's he doing since last night?"

Emma barely paused before switching gears: "Last night, Lord Ronald repelled five waves of bandits in the village, killing four enemies in total."

There were several waves during the day—but they were just probing; no important figures or large groups ever appeared.

Wayne nodded: "Irregular timing, a few coming each wave, running away as soon as they see Ronald, right?"

Emma nodded.

"Truly clever."

Wayne cursed inwardly, thinking that these bandits were truly ruthless, using the lives of their underlings to wear down Ronald's energy.

He hadn't rested for nearly forty hours; even someone made of iron couldn't endure that.

Once Ronald shows signs of fatigue or leaves the defensive line, the real all-out attack will begin.

Therefore, this is what I will be facing in the coming period.

Wayne took a deep breath, and the frost raven glands in his chest contracted slightly, bringing a chilling sense of clarity.

The only good news now is that Wright has once again demonstrated his terrifying organizational skills—not only has he recovered most of the key food supplies and discovered a promising talent like Emma, ​​but he has also allowed most of the villagers and cavalry to take turns resting.

This also means that as long as he can hold on for the next few hours, and Ronald and Wright recover...

The wartime effects of an early frost will be neutralized—and the situation will be back in their hands.