Your Majesty's money, why don't you engrave my name on it?

But before that, Felix, who had returned as bait to attract attention, invited them to another place first, with Philia's body in tow—the destination being a fishing village.

That was once Felix's estate when he was a knight. However, when the group saw it again, it was completely different from what they remembered. The entire place reeked of burning; the houses were demolished, and the land was ravaged. If Felix hadn't personally brought them here, Raslaufer and the others would have thought they had come to the wrong place.

Here, the most conspicuous place is still Felix's old house. However, the reason it is still conspicuous is that the building has no bricks or tiles left. Only four wooden stakes, blackened by smoke, are stuck crookedly at the four corners, outlining the original outline of the house while seemingly mocking something.

“Someone took it down,” Felix said in a slightly hoarse voice, raising his hand to point to the middle of several pillars with his riding crop. “Philia put up a banner here that read ‘Traitor Felix’ and ‘Fool Moser.’ Two of each, arranged in a circle, so you couldn’t mistake it from any direction.”

The servant behind him lowered his head: those were things he had secretly sent people to remove, but perhaps they hadn't been removed yet.

"Did he burn this place to the ground?" Frosthai looked around in disbelief. She had heard that Felix had once breached the Moser River and destroyed his territory, but the scene before her eyes made her believe that those rumors were probably far from the truth.

She dug a handful of soil from the ground with her claws. The top layer was almost cooked and hardened into a solid block by the high temperature. Even a druid would have a hard time growing crops again in such soil in a short time. The deeper soil was only damp at a normal level and showed no signs of being soaked by floods.

“Miss, are you looking for evidence?” Felix couldn’t help but laugh, but it looked more like he was crying. “It’s alright, you can check it as you like. The place where I breached the dike is closer to the border. I wouldn’t have been forced to retreat here back then.”

The count turned to look at the coffin on the carriage beside him: "This was part of your plan, wasn't it? You did the same to all the villages, so that even if you couldn't completely destroy me, you could make me perish on my own—but you probably didn't expect that I'm still standing here on horseback, while you're lying down."

Daisy stared intently, scanning her surroundings as if trying to memorize everything, but in the end, she could only sigh: "If Bella saw this, she'd definitely fight them to the death..."

Perhaps the Returners or druids of similar sects within the Empire should see this scene. Is this what they believe—that war can restore the environment to its natural state? It's unknown how long it will take for such land to regain its vitality.

Previously, when they marched here, they mostly crossed the wilderness to avoid encounters, but seeing this now, it's hard not to think about another issue.

“What about the people here and in the other villages and towns?” Angelita asked, frowning. They hadn’t seen many civilians in the castle Felix had last held out in, and the same had been true in the surrounding area. She had initially thought they were just hiding temporarily to escape the war and would return after a while, but now it seemed that wasn’t the case…

“We’ve met before,” Felix said without speaking, but Leslaufer answered the question for him. “Remember when we were on our way to Riha? Those valleys over there, many of them were people brought out by Moser.”

Chapter 619 The Counterattack Begins

Philia's body could no longer lie peacefully in the coffin. The four pillars that had stood on Felix's completely burned-down old house were quickly dismantled and a new gallows was erected. After being strangled once by Raslaufer, the old nobleman's fragile neck could not escape the fate of being strangled again.

He will not have the chance to return to the earth unless these pillars, which he personally ordered to be reinforced, collapse, or the hungry birds on this scorched earth peck at him until he can no longer be bound by the rope.

“At least there’s some good news,” Raslaufer said, arms crossed, surveying the scene with a blank expression. “His fans will definitely lose interest in stealing him once they know this, which will save us two guards.”

Count Felix didn't understand: "No interest? This old man has made quite a few acquaintances in the kingdom over the decades."

“But they’re all going to the front lines soon—listen, after our trip to Mulinxi, the lord there agreed…”

Mulinsi is an agricultural territory. If its lord is willing to surrender, Philia's plan to trap and kill will fall apart. All that stands between them is a defensive line that no longer has a supreme commander.

"Spread the news that Philia has been put on trial!" Felix, overjoyed at having avenged his family and hearing the good news, was immediately in high spirits. He turned back to gather his men. "Our next target will be the direction of Mulinxi!"

Everyone readily agreed and were about to go about their preparations when Felix stopped them: "Wait, although the military plan is finalized, we can't neglect other aspects. Let's take this opportunity to spread the word that Lord Raslaufer and the Five Friends of Falin need to have their reputations spread. Tell them that anyone who helps the tyrant in his cruelty and refuses to repent will be punished, and only those who sincerely repent and see the difference between justice and evil will have a chance to be forgiven!"

“Miss Daisy, could you compose some tunes or folk songs? Or even rhymes, so they can spread far and wide! I couldn’t defeat them on the battlefield before, and had to bear the name of a traitor, but now it’s time to let that tyrant taste the bitterness!”

Upon hearing that he was also involved, the bard immediately perked up: "Just you wait and see! It's a pity you don't have any readily available online support, but don't worry, with me handling things, I absolutely won't let you lose the upper hand in public opinion again!"

Never eaten it before? Never seen it before? This is something she can easily do!

“However…” Daisy, who already had a plan, was stumped by one question: “I say, Earl, didn’t you just put Old Lei and Jinmian together? Does that mean you’re going to publicize it like that?”

The assassination of Philia was originally a joint operation between the Five Friends of the Scales and Raslaufer, and most people didn't find anything wrong with it. However, Felix waved his hand and said, "No, let's separate them. Lord Raslaufer rushed south from Eastern Inasas to support the battlefield; the Dragonborn are chivalrous heroes who right injustice and eliminate evil traitors—I've heard about their deeds in the Kingdom of Pope. Aren't they wanted there? This is perfect opportunity to clear their names!"

The methods of Dople and Falin are ultimately quite different. While they are more than enough to instill fear, it will be difficult for them to maintain a firm stance of "justice." On the contrary, the Five Friends of Falin have always been respected adventurers. They were only criticized for their actions against the Popenos family members not long ago. However, if everything is put together, the flaws in the process can be easily overlooked, and this can even help to correct Felix's actions.

The warriors of Eastern Inathas who fought against demons and the heroes of Western Inathas who fought against cultists all came to his aid. Could Felix possibly be a bad guy?

“The only one who might feel wronged is Lord Dieter.” He turned to look at him, but the young businessman waved his hand dismissively.

"I'm not wronged, I'm not wronged. I'm just the one who provided the money. It would be better for me to step forward. But... if the Earl succeeds, please don't forget about me."

His cousin supplied weapons to the king's side, and if he openly stood up for Felix, it would lower his reputation within the family. In comparison, it would be much more worthwhile to keep a low profile. However, he would have to spend more money to bribe some local bards. How to help spread the news was the more pressing issue for Dieter at the moment.

Of course, all of this depends on one major premise: that is, they must ensure that they do not suffer any more major setbacks on the main battlefield, otherwise, no matter how ingenious these tricks are, they will not help the situation.

But for them, this was actually the simplest thing.

Three days later, the battle cries of the Ampire people pierced the skies above the Moser River. The garrison defending the river, without high-ranking officers, retreated in disarray, abandoning the river port and checkpoints along the way, and retreating into a fortress nestled against the hills. However, attempting to use this to halt the Moser army at this point was nothing short of wishful thinking.

By the early morning of the seventh day, as the fully rested Ember Crown spread a raging wall of fire across the city walls, and the raging lightning bolts driven by the Shards licked every inch of the walls, the defenders on top could hardly even raise their heads, let alone fire arrows in retaliation. Only a few scattered mages managed to hold up a barrier, using the cover to try to defeat the dragonborn who had assassinated their general before they reached the fortress.

But at that moment, a heavily armored figure in pitch black led dozens of Cold Iron Guards to place siege ladders on the city wall. As he emerged first, several soldiers tried to engage him, but the giant sword, like a black flame, was not something ordinary people could stop. With Dubler's roar, two soldiers were cleaved into four pieces with a single sword strike. The defenders behind him tried to retreat in shock, but were grabbed by Raslaufer and thrown headfirst down the city wall, leaving only a heart-wrenching, trembling echo for the warriors still climbing the ladders.

Upon seeing that Raslaufer had already ascended the city walls, the wall of fire maintained by the crown of embers instantly dissipated. However, this suppressive contact was not to liberate the defenders behind them; on the contrary, it was to break the shackles of Dubul! Raslaufer used his sword in one hand to deflect the hail of spears and arrows, while his other hand wielded his battle blade wildly. Amidst the flying blood and flesh, living people fell like grass and trees, and few could stop his advance.

Thus, the exposed mage, in despair, summoned thunder to try to stop the advancing killing machine. However, after the deafening noise, a member of the Cold Iron Guard was knocked back onto the battlements, spitting blood, while the heavy black armor remained unmoved, only the visor covering it was lifted up, revealing a ferocious smiling face underneath.

"Well done..."

The surrounding defenders surged forward. Dubler swung his sword with his left hand, embedding half of the blade and the upper body of the enemy into the brickwork. His right hand, however, wedged his sword into a tower shield. The shield-bearing soldier was forced backward by a tremendous force, crashing into a group of his own men. Meanwhile, Raslaufer's eyes never left the mage in front of him for even a second.

“Unfortunately, I don’t know why, but I always feel like I can’t exert my strength,” he licked his lips, then “naturally” stopped what he was doing and walked straight toward the mage. “But it doesn’t matter. You helped me get rid of a piece of trash who stole my battle merits, so I have to repay you for that.”

"Come."

The hands, already covered in blood and mud, crossed and gripped the mage's cheeks. With just a little force, the spellcaster's shield shattered, and his still-handsome face twisted 180 degrees backward. He died instantly!

Reslaufer staggered, as some blunt object struck his back, but the only effect was that slight stumble. Reslaufer turned, looking down at the now-fearful soldier, his smile widening.

"...But you're not so lucky—come on."

A fist no less powerful than a warhammer dodged the head and slammed straight down on the opponent's shoulder blade.

Chapter 620 The King and the Civil Officials

"Mourinsi surrendered, Emalawin fell, Gavana County surrendered... You mean, with Philia dead, half of my kingdom will belong to the Moser family?"

Ettore lay prostrate on the ground, trembling, barely daring to breathe. The newly built palace, though tall, felt as if its dome was pressing down on his spine, making it impossible for him to even stand up.

It was rare for a king in Inathal to require his subjects to kneel during an audience, especially for the entire time, but King Marcel was clearly an exception. And this "new rule" was the least significant of his other actions.

"Ridiculous! Bastards! They're all a bunch of fucking trash!"

A sudden outburst of rage caused a fruit to smash down on the civil official's head like a stone, making him lower his head even further.

"Aren't we stronger than those cowards in the west? We have nine commanders! Nine!! And I have even more knights! Real iron cavalry! Isn't there a single one of them who can stop that mere traitor Felix? Is it possible that even a drowned dog whose spine was broken by Philia can rout them?! It's absurd!"

"Absurd!"

Ettore heard another rustling sound of papers being turned on the throne above him. He knew that King Marseille was beginning to review the battle reports—he would soon understand what those reports he had just listed actually meant.

Of the nine counts appointed as generals, four died in battle, four surrendered, and one disappeared without a trace; the riders, who had camped by the water, were attacked from both sides by the enemy on the shore and the Ampirei arriving in longboats, and most of them fell into the water, worse off than drowning dogs. Ettore had long ago warned the king that, in the entire kingdom, only Philia truly posed a threat to Felix; the others were more like "confidants" than "generals."

That persuasion nearly cost Ettore his life. After being saved by his priest friend, a devotee of the goddess of resurrection, Corasiel, he changed his ways: he could not bring himself to flatter the king against his will, but he would never utter another word beyond his duties.

Let the king figure it out himself.

In a suffocating silence, the report that Ettore had hastily compiled overnight was tossed onto the ground in front of him like a piece of waste paper. Marseille, who had just finished condemning the vassals, slumped into his chair, panting heavily. The sudden barrage of bad news left him unable to even repeat his previous tirade.

"You...Ettore, why didn't you tell me this sooner? Hmm? Were you hiding it from me?!"

Ettore shuddered, but did not panic. Instead, he pulled out a dozen or so round plaques made of jade and gemstones from his waist—this was one of the new rules. Whenever King Marse used these to issue orders to his subjects, no matter what their request, it had to be fulfilled: "Your Majesty, I have been trying to see you for a long time, coming every day, but you have ordered me not to disturb you..."

These round plaques were valuable in themselves due to their material, and as symbols of the king's authority, it was perfectly reasonable for him to carry them with him. Ettore could only hope that the king hadn't completely lost his mind; if he was determined to behead himself, no amount of preparation would save him.

At least when it came to his own life, Ettore made the right gamble this time.

"Devil, you devil! You damned worm Ettore, where is your former toughness? Didn't you break into my palace before, drag my beloved concubine off the bed, and scold me? Why are you so obedient now!"

Ettore was grabbed by a large hand, and the muscular, shirtless king slapped him twice across the face. But after throwing him down, he did not order the soldiers to drag him out and execute him: "Hmph... Even if I chop you up and feed you to the dogs, it won't make that traitor retreat. Since I have some free time today, tell me everything you haven't told me before, so I know what has really happened in my country!"

The civil official swallowed hard, lest the blood and broken teeth he vomit become grounds for execution. He then straightened up and prostrated himself on the ground: "Your Majesty, in addition to our continuous defeats on the front lines, the propaganda campaign orchestrated by General Philia has also shown signs of failure. After losing our source of gold coins, those bards have begun to sing that traitors are the true warriors, and that you are a tyrant who commits all kinds of evil. We have conclusive evidence that these rumors were spread by Felix, because they are mixed with a large number of folk melodies from the Empire and Western Inathas. And there are such talents in his army."

Marse couldn't help but let out a puzzled snort: "Felix? When did that traitor acquire such talent? Wait, I heard there's a place in his territory where you can salvage deep-sea artifacts, gifts from mermaids. Could it be that he's received reinforcements from the deep sea?"

But why in this way? The battle report made no mention whatsoever of the half-human, half-fish warriors.

“No, Your Majesty, it should be a bard named Daisy Dewdrop Momo, who is undoubtedly human—the name sounds like a pseudonym, but that’s all we know. She must have stayed in the Empire, and more information remains a mystery, apart from the songs that came from her.”

"What did she sing?" "Your Majesty..." "Tell me!"

“Ugh,” Ettore closed his eyes in despair, but could only imitate the bards’ tone and murmur, “They sing of ‘Lords who do not care for their people; kings who do not show any kindness. They levy taxes and corvée labor on the fields, and demons manipulate generals with strings!’ Your Majesty, it won’t be long before you are branded as a ‘demon’!”

"What? Utterly absurd!" Marseille's fierce eyes widened instantly. "Arrest those bards immediately and make them continue singing what Philia made them spread! Anyone who dares to continue spreading rumors from the traitor's side will all be hanged!"

"And that bard named Daisy!" The king's anger had not yet subsided, but he noticed something else. "Is that a woman? What does she look like?"

Ettore: "Huh?"

“What do you mean, ‘what do you mean’?” Marseille kicked him. “You can’t possibly not even know what she looks like! If she’s pretty, you should recruit her; if not, you should put a bounty on her! Didn’t they also kill Philia by assassination? We should get revenge!”

The civil official was momentarily speechless, both amused and exasperated: "Your Majesty, I'm afraid neither of these options is feasible: the bard is likely following that 'enemy of the devil,' Reslaufer, from Eastern Inassia, the very man who routed our army. It's said he can fight a hundred men single-handedly, and even move through thousands of troops as if they were nothing! Trying to snatch someone from him..."

"Why not?" A voice came from outside the palace, accompanied by the sound of boots hitting the stone bricks, and a nobleman walked in with an air of superiority. "Even if that Leslaufer is brave, can he compare to one of His Majesty's little fingers?"

Chapter 621 Reinforcements from Kolasund

"Uncle!" Marseille greeted the newcomer with delight. "You've finally arrived! In the short time you've been gone, I felt like the kingdom was about to collapse!"

That's it. Ettore didn't even need to turn around; he knew who it was just by the voice. It was only when he wasn't around that Ettore finally had the chance to send in the battle report; otherwise, their king would probably still be indulging in the fantasy of victory after victory.

“It’s all because of these sycophantic ministers spreading alarmist rumors and disturbing Your Majesty’s enjoyment,” Fassant and Marseille embraced warmly, then he glanced at the civil official on the ground with a cold smile. “Now that I’m back, what are you still doing lying here? Why don’t you tuck your tail between your legs and get out of here, or do you want me to list all your crimes?”

Upon hearing this, Ettore breathed a sigh of relief and hurriedly ran outside, hunched over. Although he despised the other man a hundred and one times, at least for this moment, Fashan had saved his life.

"Let me see what ridiculous excuse these power-hungry civil servants have come up with this time?" Fassham glanced at Ettore's back, bent down to pick up the report from the ground, and burst into laughter after reading only two lines.

He laughed so hard he almost choked, which left the two-meter-tall burly man Marse completely bewildered: "Uncle Wang, what are you laughing at? What's so funny about this?"

Fassham didn't answer him immediately, but continued to point at the report and laugh for a while before wiping his eyes and handing the report to Marseille: "You've read it all? These cowardly cowards exaggerate the smallest setback as if the sky is falling. Isn't that the most ridiculous thing?"

"A minor setback?" Marseille was even more confused. "It says here that our general is either dead or has defected to the enemy..."

“It was just one general who died, Your Majesty,” Fashan interrupted him. “It was the Battle of the Flower River mentioned here. Our army did suffer considerable losses, but we also repelled the enemy’s attack. If you don’t believe me, look at these battle reports. After this battle, the enemy hasn’t launched a decent attack since!”

Fashan wasn't entirely lying. After the Battle of the River of Flowers, Felix, Raslaufer, and others did not launch any more large-scale battles. The reason was not hard to guess—the kingdom's generals were either dead or surrendered, and without a cohesive resistance force, how could there be any major battles?

But Marseille clearly believed Faschand's explanation more than that: "So, we still have an absolute advantage? But why haven't I received any messages from those generals?"

“Everything is normal, of course there’s no need to trouble you to tell me,” Fashan said with a smile. “However, what Ettore said is not entirely false. At least in terms of public opinion, it is indeed somewhat unfavorable to you right now, which is why I came to see you.”

“Philia is dead, so it’s hard for them to refute what they say, but you can prove that you have nothing to do with evil by personally leading the army. There are two advantages to doing so: first, the king’s personal campaign will surely boost morale and stabilize the army’s morale. As I just said, we did encounter some setbacks at the River of Flowers; second, don’t you think it would be a pity if Your Majesty’s reputation for bravery only spreads within the court? It is precisely because you did not take action that an unknown nobody like Leslaufer was allowed to act so arrogantly!”

"If you can defeat him head-on on the battlefield..."

"Then I shall be the greatest warrior in all of Inasas!" If all that had gone in one ear and out the other for Marcel, Fashan's reasoning had truly moved him. "That's right, that's right! No matter what, I should defeat him with my own hands!"

But Marseille wasn't so delusional as to completely lose his mind. After his initial excitement subsided, he couldn't help but ask, "But, Uncle, I've already handed over command of most of the army to the generals. I'm afraid there aren't any usable troops left in the capital. I can't possibly be the only one facing all the rebels."

"Moreover, I've heard that they have powerful genius mages like the Five Friends of the Law Scales, while our youngest court mage is almost sixty years old, I'm afraid..."

Fashan's eyes flickered slightly, then he smiled: "Your Majesty, your considerations are thorough, but I've also considered things for you. Although most mercenaries nowadays prefer to join Felix's army, there are still some willing to fight to protect Your Majesty. Before coming to see you, I met a group of volunteers who have traveled a long way from Corazonde, numbering around seven hundred. They are well-equipped and quite capable, and will certainly be able to accompany you on your campaign!"

Seven hundred men? Well-equipped? From Corazonde?

Marse was almost overwhelmed by this sudden happiness: "Where are they? Take me to see them!"

"We're just waiting for your command." Fashan cleared the view leading to the palace gate, and as he clapped his hands three times, a dozen burly warriors in heavy armor filed in from outside. Without exception, they all had their right iron gauntlets painted black, and the leader had a black hard mace with its head shaped like a clenched fist hanging from his waist.

The warriors stood thirty paces away from Marseille, saluting the king in perfect unison. The chilling atmosphere seemed to lower the temperature of the entire palace.

"By order of our lord!" It wasn't until the leader spoke that Marseille realized she was a woman. "We are delighted to hear that Your Majesty is carrying out the Lord's will, and thus we have come from Corazonde to pledge our loyalty to Your Majesty. All rebellious madmen will face the most desperate crushing!"

"Good, good!" If it were any other king, seeing such soldiers right outside his door, and knowing nothing about them, he would feel fear rather than joy. But Marseille was different. He looked at these men and then burst into laughter. "Excellent! With such excellent warriors as you, how can Felix not surrender? Who is your lord? I will certainly repay his kindness!"

The female officer's cold, hard features remained expressionless: "Our lord is not a mortal emperor, but the ruler of all world power and order. The land of Inasas may not yet have heard of his name, but he is called Bane! In his name!"

"In His name!"

As she shouted, the believers behind her saluted and shouted in unison once more. Faced with such fervor, Marseille's face finally changed slightly. The king smiled awkwardly, trying to bring the atmosphere back down to earth: "Very well, in His name... I know the name of your god. And what about yours? What is your name?"

“I don’t need a name,” the woman, who was both an officer and a priest, glanced at him. “I am His follower, I am His executor, I am Bane’s Black Hand, and in His name, the villains, the strong, and even the world shall submit!”

Chapter 622 Bane's Followers

When Iron Jaw walked into the military tent with one arm in a cast, everyone stood up, showing their surprise.

Since the Battle of Flower River, in which the king's last two generals were killed in battle and fled, they had not encountered any decent resistance for a long time. Not to mention their main force, even the surrendered generals' battle lines were reporting frequent victories, and even the fiercest battles would not last more than half a day.

To be more specific, Raslaufer hadn't had the chance to personally fight on the battlefield for a long time; he simply stayed by Angelita's side, protecting the princess who insisted on participating in every aspect of the war from harm.

How could their vanguard officer have been injured like this?

Felix's first reaction was to look at the markings on the map, but this only added to his confusion: "We are very close to the capital, Talleycher, with only some villages and baronies ahead. Haven't they received news of our approaching army?"

Now that King Marseille's power is waning, most lords and village chiefs will surrender obediently when they hear that Felix's army has arrived. Could it be that they have encountered a tough nut to crack here after a long time?

But even if they're tough as nails, how tough can they be? In their current state, surely no mercenary company would be foolish enough to take on this kind of job? Besides, Ironjaw leads the Cold Iron Guard, those incredibly brave Ampieri who see death in battle as a stepping stone to the divine realm. They've fought their way here from Morsel, and Felix has never seen many forces that can defeat them.