Lord: I have a Mount & Blade panel.

Richard squinted and counted; there were a total of one hundred and twenty people, a standard squadron in the Kingdom of Enpei.

The elite cavalry, composed entirely of burly men from Enpe, wore fine green cloaks and chainmail, nose shields, and were equipped with oak cavalry shields and long-handled lances.

With just this appearance, if you took it to a desolate wilderness where people were so poor they were urinating blood, it would be enough to scare a bunch of lowly villagers to their knees and call you "Heavenly Soldier, Lord".

Even within the entire Kingdom of Empe, they were considered to be at the level of a semi-first-class cavalry.

However, whether you dare to fight or not, you need to have enough of the right attitude!

Richard knew that if he, as a prince, showed weakness in this situation, morale would only drop even faster.

The thought vanished in an instant, so he reached out to the side.

Richard wasn't sure just how powerful he was now with the system panel loaded, so to be on the safe side, he decided to test the system's limits first.

"Spear throwing."

So the guard next to him quickly handed a javelin to his prince.

Richard weighed the iron spear in his hand; it felt as light as a feather.

If it were the original form, it would probably be difficult to even swing it.

He now felt as if the power of a dragon was flowing through his body!

Richard's ingrained instincts led him to subconsciously raise his thumb in front of his eyes, ultimately determining that the distance between them was approximately nine hundred yards.

At this distance, an ordinary person would only see a cluster of small black dots, but Richard could clearly see a tall knight at the very front of the squadron.

The unique bright silver plate armor, the cape painted with a fiery red fox, and even the mount under its hindquarters is a one-piece plate armor, except for its four hooves, it is practically a mobile steel fortress.

His lavish attire undoubtedly proved his identity; he was the captain of this squadron and also a battle knight, though his rank was unknown.

To catch the thief, first catch the king; in team battles, attack the rear.

Richard's target was this knight.

Nine hundred yards... eight hundred yards... seven hundred yards...

As they drew closer, even ordinary people could see the cavalrymen clearly.

Richard remained calm and composed as he silently calculated the distance.

Behind him, dozens of guards wielding single-handed swords swallowed hard, their Adam's apples bobbing. A platoon of cavalrymen approached, elite at that, their imposing presence something few could face without fear.

They gazed at the handsome young man standing on the carriage, the afterglow of the setting sun casting a golden glow on his silhouette, making him appear majestic and imposing. Their admiration grew even stronger; he truly was a prince, remaining unfazed even in the face of such a crisis.

Six hundred yards...five hundred yards!

Once within range, Richard weighed the javelin twice, then aimed at the knight at the edge of his line of sight, stepped back, and gathered his strength.

Shoulders, waist, arms—all the muscles twisted together, veins bulging in his hands—then he suddenly turned and swung his arm to throw.

call out!

The javelin was like a bolt of lightning, its trajectory almost impossible to catch with the naked eye, and it covered a distance of five hundred yards in the blink of an eye.

You think you're so flashy, huh?

……

Mor Quinn is a Silver Knight who has condensed the seed of fighting spirit; to be precise, he is a knight appointed by Count Triman of Blackrock Fortress.

His father was a baron appointed by His Majesty the King, and he was a knight appointed by the Earl. He had his own knightly estate and would inherit his father's fiefdom with thousands of commoners in the future. He lived a life of luxury and had all the glory that a nobleman should have.

In the future, he may even join the ranks of the Golden Knights and elevate his title to Baron.

Therefore, he was content with his current life and proud to be a nobleman of a powerful country, a knight appointed by the Earl.

But accidents always happen unexpectedly. The once mighty kingdom crumbled overnight, and the rebel army marched irresistibly towards the royal court from the new lands in the south.

First, the royal army suffered repeated defeats, and then Prince Reik, known as the Dragon Prince, died in battle on the Tulip Plateau. It seemed that in an instant, the Augustus family was on its last legs.

He knew perfectly well that it was undoubtedly a fatal danger for a mere Silver Knight or Baron family to be involved in this struggle for the throne. All he could do was watch with hope in his heart—in truth, he would have preferred that the Augustus family remain on the throne.

However, this wait-and-see attitude was broken by an order issued a few days earlier: the Earl ordered him to lead a squadron of elite knights to the Locha Hills to intercept the fourth prince, Richard Augustus, who was passing through Blackrock Castle.

In fact, Mor was far less familiar with the fourth prince than with the eldest prince. His only impression of the prince was that he was cowardly and preferred to study the things that scholars and bards liked rather than martial arts.

Rather than being an Augustus with the blood of a true dragon flowing through his veins, he was more like a woman.

As a result, the other party had many titles among the people that brought shame upon Augustus.

Therefore, he was once disliked by His Majesty the King, and shortly after his coming-of-age ceremony, he was arbitrarily granted a territory and driven out of the capital.

Although he did not know the fourth prince's destination, it was not hard to guess; the direction was nothing more than heading towards Gaoyabao in the northern province.

Mohr didn't know why the Earl had asked him to stop the fourth prince. These past few days, he had often tossed and turned at night, unable to sleep.

He knew perfectly well that almost everything he possessed now came from His Majesty the King.

Because of King Ian's investiture, his father became a baron, and only after his life became more comfortable was he able to enter the Knight Academy to study, transforming from a peasant into a high-ranking nobleman.

Now, the Earl's orders and the words "betraying the country" are constantly clashing in his mind.

He had some selfish thoughts: what should he do if the Earl asked him to kill or imprison the Fourth Prince?

This is not impossible. His Majesty Ian is currently trapped in Gundon, and the fall of the capital is imminent. Every nobleman is secretly scheming for their own interests.

His exceptional eyesight allowed him to see that the prince's entourage was already in sight on the opposite hill. No matter how much he tried to escape, he had to face this reality today.

For some reason, Moore suddenly laughed coldly, looking up at the beautiful, fiery sunset with a mix of emotions. He was already past the age of twelve or thirteen, when he dreamed of becoming one of the Eight Virtues Knights and fantasized about being personally appointed as one of the Twelve Golden Swordsmen by His Majesty Ian. So, he was naturally more realistic in many ways.

For a knight, betraying the country and monarch he once served is undoubtedly the most shameful act, but if this is the price to keep the Quinn family alive, then he is willing to be nailed to the pillar of shame for the rest of his life.

"Wait, what's that?"

Mohr's reflections came to an abrupt end.

Five or six hundred yards away on the hills, a small black dot suddenly flew out as the fourth prince finished his movement!