Become their wicked yet gentle lord.

Now they cut down the thick timber, break it down into firewood that can be burned freely, and return to the warm campfire amidst the welcome of their families, making the flickering flames even more intense, burning day and night, melting the solid ice in the iron pot into bubbling boiling water.

Then they took bags of food from the tent by the campfire and put them into the pot, added some chopped vegetables and potato slices, sprinkled in some salt and cheese, and a pot of stew porridge enough for the whole family was ready.

No other escape has ever been like this.

The soldiers maintained strict order and distributed rations regularly. The knights guarded the perimeter, preventing looting and accidents. The swords and battle aura that they normally dared not face now helped them break through the ice and clear a path; mages constructed walls of ice and earth to block the wind at night; even frostbite was treated by clergy, the kind that didn't require donations to the church.

The noblewoman leading them, the young Miss Hetia Tartu, had none of the airs of a noblewoman. Instead, she camped with them, living and eating just like any other ordinary soldier. Only when issuing orders did her strong and decisive aura appear before everyone, her long red hair making her as reassuring as a flame in the cold winter.

The initial anger and fear of these civilians being forcibly relocated from their hometowns gradually turned into peace and awe. After all, even after several days of traveling in the wild, not a single person had frozen or starved to death. In their hometowns, every winter would end and the doors of several dilapidated wooden houses would never be opened from the inside again.

Gradually, they began to spontaneously go to thank Hetia, but the valiant female knight always insisted that it wasn't her achievement alone; besides her soldiers, the person she was most grateful to was her governor. Although these people had never seen the 'Ryusha' the Viscountess spoke of, they couldn't help but feel anticipation and curiosity. However, when some of the young girls' eyes sparkled, the Viscountess emphasized the word 'my' in 'my governor' with particular emphasis…

Of course, while some were happy, others were unhappy. As usual, a group of gloomy-looking people gathered in front of Hetia's tent on time. They were lords who had been forcibly subdued along the way, or knights or mages.

They watched as the grain stored in their warehouses was distributed to their subjects, and the cloth, furs, and carpets became the clothes and tents for their subjects. Even though they felt resentful, they dared not utter a sound in front of Hetia, the great knight.

Those who dared to rebel could no longer stand here with them. They had a better place: atop the flagpole where banners fluttered in the wind.

“Miss Hetia, the headcount is correct. This is a record of everyone’s performance yesterday.”

Hetia took a list from her subordinate, a smile playing on her otherwise valiant face. She was finally experiencing the feeling of being loved by the common people, striving to maintain her virtuous and upright image in public, a far cry from the tyrannical knight of the past. But her smile still sent shivers down the spines of the nobles present, especially as Hetia slowly began to read the list.

"Baron Yoren spent two hours yesterday breaking the ice to fetch water, four hours cutting down trees, and also helped twelve families install and dismantle their tents... Hmm, not bad, worthy of a knight."

One of the men in the group breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing his name called, then forced a smile at Hetia, a smile that was three parts awkwardness, three parts nervousness, and four parts ingratiatingness.

“Viscount Elber, the magical construction of the windbreak wall went well yesterday, but your son has been absent from work without cause… Is that so?”

Another middle-aged magician looked alarmed, took off his hat and held it to his chest, explaining, "Miss Tartu, my son, he... he's ill..."

"Really? Shall I go and visit him?"

"No, no need! He just caught a slight cold and will be fine today!"

"Really? But he seems to be an ice mage like you, does he also catch a cold...?" (You Lin, do you want to... you Lin, are you...)

"Really? Shall I go and visit him?"

"No, no need! He just caught a slight cold and will be fine today!"

"Really? But he seems to be an ice mage like you, does he also catch a cold...?" (You Lin, do you want to... you Lin, are you...)

Hetia grinned, stopped talking there, and then began to read the next person's name.

The nobles were treated as if their fates were sealed. They no longer dared to hope for the treatment due to nobles under imperial law, after all, in Hetia's words, they were loyal vassals of 'Count Duke the Rebel'. All power was temporarily held by Hetia in the name of the Thirteenth Princess, to be handed over to His Majesty for judgment after the rebellion was quelled, but they seriously doubted whether they would live to see that day.

Property confiscated, territory burned, people relocated… even the soldiers she had raised for years succumbed to Hetia's power, forcibly dispersed, and reassigned to her subordinates. Among them were many commoners, both full-time and apprentice, who, after a few days of confusion and disorientation, fully integrated into the Linhu territory's ranks…

As for some stubborn supporters, Hetia would bring them before their former master and ask them with a 'bright and friendly' smile whether their lack of cooperation was secretly instigated by their master.

What a joke! This lackey who doesn't cooperate with Viscount Tartu... no! He doesn't cooperate with the Thirteenth Princess and the Empire's campaign against them! How could we have ordered him to do this?! Execute him! These ungrateful bastards must be executed immediately!

What? We have to do it ourselves? No problem!

After several such incidents, those who disobeyed Hetia's orders ceased to exist.

These nobles were filled with regret, not expecting the Linhu Territory's attack to proceed so swiftly. They had originally intended to surrender collectively to the Third Prince, which is why their surrender was slightly delayed upon contact with Hetia. Those who were slower to surrender were still standing; those with less compliant attitudes had already gone to meet the goddess. Only a few quick-witted individuals had initially "welcomed the royal army," preserving not only their dignity but also some of their property. Their example made Hetia's subsequent actions much smoother.

We'll be at the gates of Sochi tomorrow. The siege will just be a show, and Count Duke will give up resistance, resulting in another scene of his entire family being wiped out.

While this may seem exaggerated, not only Ryūka, but also Hetia and Hafren, who were familiar with the political landscape of the capital, believed that the old man on the throne would turn a blind eye. Princess Tipalotura would also step in to help. Moreover, led by the Fourth Prince, other factions that did not want to see the Third Prince's family become too powerful would also take the opportunity to cover up the matter, as long as the Sochi Plain did not fall into the hands of the Third Prince and the Payne family.

After all, a mere border count is nothing to the entire empire. Heretic blood? Gone without a trace or missing? Those who truly control Otus don't care.

"Hafleyan and Megan both sent messengers to say that they could meet up on time. Their words were laced with boasting; I wonder just how many armies they've subdued..."

Hetia couldn't help but sigh. Although she had a considerable army, having recruited over a thousand professional soldiers from various nobles—more than half of whom were knights and mages of apprentice level or higher—and even clergy from various churches were temporarily under her command as long as there was money and provisions, she also had a much larger number of civilians to manage. Haflian and Megan were so focused on attacking and expanding their forces that civilians in the areas they passed through were readily offering them money and provisions to come and join her in the central region! This made her task far more demanding than the other two female knights…

Not only that, Hetia didn't have time to properly reorganize the newly recruited army; using them to maintain public order and escort marches was already the limit. Hetia couldn't help but purse her lips, her toes digging hard into her thick cotton socks inside her boots. Those two had probably already trained the recruited army, establishing a certain level of combat effectiveness and loyalty, while she was still like a militia captain…

"Honestly, it's all Ryuka's fault! Why did she give me the most stressful task? I wanted to just focus on fighting like the other two. Although I am nominally the lord, don't I still take orders from that kid? And we're arriving in Sochi tomorrow, and there's not even a trace of him... Ah~~ What am I going to do with all these people when we get to Sochi?!"

After breaking camp in the morning, Hetia rode her warhorse through the long procession, muttering to herself the whole way. Her strong thighs gripped the cold, hard horse armor under the saddle, as if she were venting her anger on some kid.

Just hours earlier, on the road from Linhu Town to Sochi Territory, a horse-drawn carriage adorned with lanterns was slowly making its way through the snow on the smooth road.

Despite being called an adult, he was only a few years older than his grandson. If he were still alive... The old coachman blew on his aching fingers in the cold night. If Liuxia had become the governor of Linhu Territory a year earlier, his grandson might have survived the illness brought on by the previous winter.

Perhaps he would be clamoring to join the new army in Linhu Territory now, only to be too old and watch helplessly as soldiers in neat cotton winter uniforms march off in formation, carrying brand-new magic guns. Or perhaps his good-for-nothing son wouldn't have become so dejected after losing his eldest son, transforming from a vibrant young man into the gaunt figure he is now, so thin that even the conscripted laborers couldn't bear to take him to make up the numbers.

Fortunately, this year's harvest was good, and the young governor's new policies brought prosperity to every household. His daughter-in-law, who had been thin and pale, was pregnant again, bringing new hope to the previously broken family. His son's eyes also gradually brightened. If he weren't so old, the old coachman would really like to join those young men on the battlefield and try his luck, to earn some more for his children and grandchildren.

It was nothing more than picking up a stick and pulling a lever; the old driver figured he could do what others could do. Besides, it wouldn't be a pity if he died at his age. If he was lucky enough to achieve some military merit, he might be able to find a widow of similar age in a nearby village, giving his otherwise barren life a little more hope.

Oh no, it's not that life is dry and barren anymore; life is pretty good now. It's just that for the sake of his descendants and the young governor who brought them this good life, the old coachman felt that it wouldn't hurt for his old bones to go a little crazy one more time. As he thought this, on a winter night when he was afraid to go out for fear of freezing to death, he took out half a hard bread from his patchwork but warm fur coat, chewed it down along with a bottle of warming medicinal wine.

Tsk, unfortunately, the only acquaintance of mine who had ever fought in a war, Old Mya, laughed out loud when he heard my idea, saying that he wasn't cut out for the battlefield and that it was better for him to stay at home and wait to hold his grandchildren.

Hmph! Always looking down on people! But he's an admirable and enviable old man. Although he lost his leg and son on the battlefield when he was young, the land he acquired allowed him to raise his only daughter into a beautiful young woman. Although she doesn't talk much, she's close to the young governor and they're a good match, and she even got a respectable job as a teacher.

The old coachman, thinking about the present and the future, gradually emerged from his sorrow over his eldest grandson, and narrowed his wrinkled eyes.

He didn't understand why the noble lords fought every day, but if Ryūsha needed him, he was willing to do anything for this young governor. He only hoped that the current situation could continue, and that a new life would be born into the family. If it was a boy, he would send him to the army or have him study and become a civil servant in the Linhu Territory. If it was a girl, she would be like Atina from the old Maya family, growing up to be a teacher.

After all, most of the villagers'... what was it called again? Oh right, 'awareness'! In the old coachman's eyes, their awareness was far too low; they couldn't even get the governor to recruit soldiers smoothly. If only he were ten years younger...

"Plop! Plop!"

The old coachman imagined it, and couldn't help but loosen the reins, mimicking the gunshots he heard outside the training ground that day, pointing towards the darkness ahead as if holding a magic gun, as if repelling all the fear and cowardice in his heart.

"You damned baron! You greedy landlord! You damned dog! You bully men and women on your land! You leave people starving and beating them mercilessly! And that's not all! You even have this right of first night! And you dare to threaten our Linhu territory! Even if the governor agrees, I, Old John, will not allow it! Behold my magic gun! *Bang!*"

The old coachman let the mules and horses break free of their reins and gallop freely on the newly built road. He held the straightened whip and muttered curses under his breath, a salty tear trickling down his smiling lips. He was completely unaware of the head peeking out behind him.

"Uncle John, what did I promise?"

"Oh my! By the goddess!"

The old coachman was so startled by the sudden voice behind him that he almost dropped his whip and nearly fell off the carriage, but was caught by Liu Xia. He looked at the young man behind him who was smiling and calling his name, clearly having overheard his words. His face flushed red, and he stammered:

"Your Excellency, why are you awake! It's still early, go back to sleep..."

Chapter 2 The Unexpected Fall of the City

Seeing the old driver's somewhat nervous and helpless appearance, Liu Xia shook her head, crawled out of the shed, patted the straw on her head and said, "No need, let's stop here. I'll walk the rest of the way myself. Please go back."

"Are you...are you leaving? Let me see you off a little further, it's very cold outside..."

Old John watched as Liu Xia gracefully jumped off the carriage, stretched her limbs in the cold wind, and then took out a silver coin from her pocket and tossed it to him.

"How can I accept your money!"

But before he could finish speaking, Liuxia leaped out, her footsteps swirling through the snow-covered treetops, quickly disappearing into the night, leaving only a single sentence in the air.

"Thank you, Uncle John, this is the best sleep I've had in a while..."

The cold wind was blocked by his protective aura, and the scent of straw still lingered on Liu Xia, giving one a sense of security. Whether initiated or not, the matter of starting a war was far too heavy for a young boy, causing the pressure in his heart to accumulate steadily since the war began. Even if he had a thousand reasons to convince himself, killing or watching his own people being killed was never an easy or pleasant experience.

But Old John's previous appearance made Ryuka feel much better. The old man's ramblings and tears made Ryuka realize that what she was doing was meaningful.

"Tipallotura is right, I do tend to overthink things and worry unnecessarily."

For a poor man like Old John, who had suffered poverty and oppression for most of his life, it was only natural to shoot at the bullying nobles, regardless of whether they were the noble lords who had oppressed him; their feelings and positions were inherently opposed.

The same applies to Ryūsha. Although the Third Prince was dealing with Sochi Territory, their arrival was a threat. They couldn't pin their hopes on the Third Prince taking over Sochi Territory while letting Linhu Territory go. Although Ryūsha had no personal grudges against the Third Prince, he considered himself part of Tipalotura's camp, and this difference in stance forced him to strike first.

Ryuka chased the falling stars and moon in the night sky until the first light of dawn rose from the east behind her. She left her complicated thoughts behind in the snowflakes and watched the huge procession gradually appear before her.

A knight from Linhu, who was guarding the refugees, immediately spotted the newcomer behind him. When he drew his sword halfway out, he recognized him as his governor, Ryusha. He then hurriedly called out to the newly recruited soldiers around him to put down their weapons and staffs.

"It's the Governor! Lift the alert!"

"That's Lord Ryukatsu..."

The soldiers, newly recruited by Hetia, looked up at Ryusha flying overhead; he appeared even younger than they had imagined. Yet this very young man was the de facto conqueror of the northern Sochi Plain and the one who ordered this unprecedented migration of refugees.

The civilians who witnessed this scene cheered for Ryūka, expressing their gratitude and praise, and carrying their children on their shoulders as they waved to him. Ryūka was somewhat surprised by this scene. He had initially thought that his order to force them to migrate south would be unacceptable to them, but the cheers of tens of thousands of people below shattered his expectations. At this moment, the [Proof of Leadership] also gained a large number of followers.

It seems their past lives were even worse than they had imagined. This was in the relatively prosperous Sochi Plain, and Earl Duke was not a tyrant, but the local lords who actually ruled the area still did not allow these commoners to live a good life.

"But it also relies on Hetia's on-site management. It seems that she has grown a bit from the violent red-haired woman she used to be."

Ryuka smiled with satisfaction as she looked at the orderly line. Soon, Hetia's striking red hair came into view, and her complaints also reached Ryuka's ears.

"Honestly, it's all Ryūka's fault! Why did she give me the most stressful task..."

Hetia, who was still grumbling, suddenly heard a commotion behind her. As soon as she turned around, a handsome young man's face appeared behind her in the cold wind.

"What are you muttering about? You only noticed me at this distance. Looks like you haven't improved much even after breaking through to the Great Knight level~"

Like a cat, Ryuka crouched on Hetia's horse's rump, causing the warhorse to neigh and raise its front legs, almost causing the nervous Hetia to press herself against Ryuka. Their noses nearly touched, and this public display of affection, combined with Ryuka's teasing, made Hetia blush. She pushed Ryuka off the horse and angrily turned her face away.

"You're too slow! Do you know how hard it was for me to lead these people!"

Amidst Hetia's complaints, Ryūka landed easily, borrowed a spare warhorse from the other knights, and caught up with Hetia ahead. As they rode side by side, Ryūka deliberately stretched his neck out, pretending to sniff Hetia, and then started joking.

"It must have been tough~ I even smelled bad~"

This caused Hetia to cover her collar and pull away, her eyes wide with shame and indignation as she muttered insults at Ryūka.

"What are you smelling! This is in front of people!"

But she couldn't help pulling at her collar and sniffing lightly; there was indeed a faint smell of sweat. Although it was winter, the days of marching hadn't given her time to bathe. The last time she'd washed herself was three days ago when she couldn't bear it any longer and, in the middle of the night, found a secluded spot, broke through the ice of the river, and jumped in. The Great Knight's strength meant she only shivered slightly while bathing, and she only managed a quick clean-up…

It's starting to smell... What can we do? We're on the march!

"Oh~ so it's okay as long as it's not in front of others?"

Ryuu chuckled mischievously as he teased Hetia, setting up a silencing spell around them before launching into lewd remarks.

"You've really had a tough time these past few days. Not only do you smell more sweaty, but I bet you've also gotten some stubble growing in some places. How about I clean you up tonight?"

Ugh! Hetia couldn't help but squeeze her legs together. It was true... These days, unlike back in Linhu Town, she couldn't get it done every day, and even riding a horse was uncomfortable... But this kid brought up such indecent things as soon as they met, it was really infuriating!

"Hmph! No, no need, I can handle it myself... Anyway, now that you're here, I don't need to worry about the refugees!"

Hetia turned her blushing face away, avoiding Ryuka's seductive, mischievous smile. But a restless feeling stirred within her; the fatigue of the past few days made her desperately want to dispel it, and this rascal was stirring her heart again.

But there was still the important matter of attacking Sochi tomorrow, and it was happening in a military tent. Even with the silencing magic, Hetia still felt incredibly ashamed.

The surrounding soldiers and knights couldn't hear their conversation and assumed they were discussing some military secrets. They couldn't help but admire how dedicated the lord and the governor were!

At that moment, a communications cavalryman galloped up from the front, dismounted before Hetia, knelt down alone, and delivered an unexpected intelligence report:

"Report! Sochi has been occupied by Miss Hafley and Miss Megan!"

"Wow! There was such a huge crowd of people below the city! I thought it was your main force, so I just went ahead with the plan! Hahahaha~~~~"

Inside Sochi Castle, Bran Duke awkwardly chuckled, touching his bandaged head, leaving Ryusha and Hetia speechless... Meanwhile, Hefren stood with her arms crossed, looking proud, while Megan stood to the side like a well-behaved maid, but her gaze towards Ryusha seemed to be asking for a reward.

Compared to the thousand men Hetia had recruited, these two female knights each led an army of two thousand men, arriving at the gates of Sochi before Hetia. And Bran Duke, responsible for guarding the city gates, simply followed the script, arrogantly leading his troops out to meet the enemy, only to be defeated, captured, and the city subsequently recaptured…

The only mistake was that Hafram, who was waiting for Ryukyu as planned, thought something had gone wrong on the Sochi side and rushed at Bran without saying a word, beating him half to death. The way he is now wrapped in bandages is the result of the priests' hard work in saving him...

However, it could be considered that the fake act became real...

Traces of the battle still lingered on the streets, but these were mostly remnants of the mopping-up operations against panicked nobles and thugs. Count Duke, who had made prior arrangements, had all unrelated civilians stay at home to avoid being caught up in the chaos.

"Where did you two get so many troops?"

Ryusha looked at the two female knights speechlessly. The army numbered four thousand, which was four times the size of Hetia's soldiers!

"Because they semi-forcibly conscripted adult men and spent most of the lords' wealth they had seized! Most importantly, they left the old, weak, sick, and disabled to me! And they marched at lightning speed!"

Listening to Hetia's gritting complaints, Ryusha realized that even so, it would be impossible to recruit such a number of soldiers from half of the northern plains of Sochi in such a short time. Meanwhile, Hafulen clicked her tongue and said, "..."

"Hetia, you're still too young. How can you only focus on what's in front of you in war?"

"What did you say! Are you trying to pick a fight?!"

Ryūka watched the two female knights, one in red and one in white, seemingly about to start a fight. It was hard to believe that just half a month ago, they had used their coordinated combat skills in Abyss City. He couldn't help but smack each of them on the head, then looked at the aggrieved and dissatisfied Hefren and asked:

"What exactly is going on? You didn't forcibly conscript soldiers from the public, did you? I've said before that's strictly prohibited!"

"How could that be..." Haiflian pouted, then put on a smug expression and explained, "We just 'borrowed' a trip to the territories bordering Sochi."

Abandoning their responsibility to rally the populace, Hafley and Megan marched swiftly, first annexing and sweeping through the territories of the 'Anti-Duke Alliance' nobles, selecting reliable men from their garrisons to lead troops, and bestowing upon them their wealth, allowing them to advance with their slow-moving infantry. Then, Hafley herself led her rapidly advancing cavalry, rushing through the night to the territories surrounding Sochi, offering these neighbors 'friendly and cordial' greetings.

"Seeing a great knight like me arrive with a large group of knights to borrow troops, those nobles and landowners were terrified. They all readily gave up some of their private armies. Before we knew it, when we arrived at the gates of Sochi, we had this many men following us!"

“This could cause diplomatic problems…” Hetia frowned and questioned Heflian’s smug look, but Heflian’s next words convinced the two of them.

She and Megan were merely borrowing troops and supplies from the minor noble territories bordering Sochi. These were all forces below the rank of viscount, some even being local landowners and mayors without titles. The soldiers they borrowed were mostly recruits below the rank of apprentice or militia, not the elite private armies carefully trained by these families. Under the overwhelming power of her, the Grand Knight, these people dared not refuse to lend them the supplies, but it was not enough to cause a major conflict.

What they valued was not the quality or quantity of these soldiers, but rather...