On the battlefield, the Elite Desert Bandits walked past with a spear in hand. When they passed by the fallen enemy, they stabbed their necks and chests. After twisting half a circle, they pulled it out and continued to move forward.
This was a standard post-war method of cleaning up the battlefield. They were very familiar with it.
Stabbed the enemies one last time to ensure they were dead.
In this era, serious injury was equivalent to a miserable death.
Rather than suffering from pain and suffering, it was better to die directly.
As for those who cowardly faked their dead, since they had chosen the path of cowardice, there was no point in living. Anyway, when the Elite Desert Bandit walked over with a spear in their hands, they would stab every fallen enemy on the battlefield.
Not a single person was left alive, even if they were just the lightly injured armed militia.
No massacre was a sign of mercy.
But cleaning the battlefield was not.
It was a warning.
It was also a deterrent.
Since they had chosen to be enemies, Kant and his troop would show no mercy on the battlefield even after the battle ended.
As enemies, they had no right to live, because on the battlefield they were fighting with their own lives, either one of the sides was destined to be dead, there was no other way.
War was brutal and cruel.
At the center of the temporary camp.
Kant sat on a simple low chair made of saddle.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64ce79d606107d003c23ea27", id: "pf-5140-1"})He rubbed his calves and looked at the young knight who was kneeling in front of him and responding to him in the most humiliating way. His face was calm, without any anger or fear.
Kant won this victory, and the initiative was in his hands.
And this young captive in front of him was like a fish on a chopping board.
This Bertram was kneeling in front of Kant as if he had accepted his fate, with his hands behind his back.
He lowered his head and let his hair fall down, looking as wretched as a condemned prisoner awaiting execution. But in fact, he was still relatively safe. At least he did not lose his life on the battlefield, which already showed that he had a reason to survive.
The cooperation now was one of the biggest reasons why Bertram could survive.
The wait didn't last long.
Outside the tent, the Elite Desert Bandit who had finished cleaning up the battlefield came back to report.
Rolf waved his hand to signal for them to leave. At the same time, he whispered to Kant about the results of the battle. Of course, Kant didn't say much about the expected glorious victory.
He just nodded and said, "I understand. Pass down the orders and do a good job of guarding."
"Yes."
Rolf accepted the order.
Rolf turned around and left. He called over the Elite Desert Bandits under his command and made some arrangements before returning to the tent.
The night in the East County was still quiet, but the sound of horse hooves could be heard. The Elite Desert Bandit groups that had scattered in small groups had already spread out, carrying spears and scimitars. They cautiously began to patrol the surroundings to ensure safety.
"There's no problem." Rolf reported with certainty.
"Very good." After arranging everything, Kant heaved a sigh of relief.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64cc9e79c7059f003e4ad4b0", id: "pf-5109-1"})He turned his head to look at the captive who was still kneeling in front of him, he calmly said, "Alright, it's time for us to talk. As a mercenary group that has just arrived here, well, let's put it this way. We have no intention of attacking you, but why did you attack us first? This makes me very puzzled. I'm also very curious. What's the reason?"
"Why? Even if I said it was a misunderstanding. Baron Kant, you wouldn't believe me." Bertram smiled bitterly.
The reason for this attack was really a misunderstanding towards the barbarians.
"Mm." Kant shrugged. He still did not understand the truth of the matter, but the experience he had gained from the system, as well as the experience from his previous life and this life, naturally, he would not simply believe in the so-called misunderstanding.
There was a cause and effect, and words like misunderstanding could only deceive children.
"Hehe, misunderstanding is good."
Rolf laughed at the side. "This is indeed a misunderstanding."
"Ah?" Bertram raised his head in surprise. He had expected Kant's silence, but Rolf's temper and personality clearly exceeded his long-standing, gentlemanly thinking.
"This is really misunderstood."
Rolf smiled, his eyes filled with malevolence. "Then how about the battle? Is it really a misunderstanding between us, or did you take the initiative to attack us? We can let this misunderstanding go." he continued, "But how are you going to compensate us? After all, your attack gave us a fright, and we need to pay for the mental damage."
"Uh..." Bertram looked even more shock and confused.
The farmland outside the camp was still piled with the bodies of the people who had died in the battle tonight. They were all knight attendants of Avilis Castle and the militia of Nali Village. Their losses were extremely heavy compared to Kant's.
And now, he was unable to accept this so-called mental damage compensation.
But in reality, they were indeed the attackers.
They were the ones who started this incident.
"I can't make a decision."
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "663633fa8ebf7442f0652b33", id: "pf-8817-1"})Bertram lowered his head dejectedly but smiled bitterly helplessly. "To me, I'm only the captain of the guards, one of Viscount Gibran's knight apprentices."
"Your name?" Kant asked calmly.
"Bertram." he answered.
"I've never heard of you."
Kant shrugged. "As for your three senior grand knights, I've heard of them." After a pause, he rubbed his head and said, "I remember that ten years ago, they were also young people who were lucky enough to survive."
"That's right." Bertram nodded. "I was just a new apprentice introduced by Countess Agatha last year."
"A new apprentice."
Kant chuckled, "Your family background is quite good."
Bertram said, "It's all thanks to my father being the chief security officer of East County City." Pausing for a moment, he said with a bitter smile, "He was conferred the title of baron of the palace by Count Agatha."
"Oh." Kant raised his eyebrows.
Of course, he understood what Bertram meant.
A new apprentice who could become the famous Viscount Gibran in the East County would definitely have sufficient wealth and power to support him. Otherwise, it would be impossible for him to become the disciple of this famous general.
His father was the sheriff of the East County City, or the baron of the palace conferred by Countess Agatha.
Then Kant was not surprised, this young knight in front of him had wealth, strong family background and high status
This Bertram's status was probably even more honorable. He was no less than the son of an ordinary powerful baron.
Kant's mind spun quickly. Looking at Bertram's dejected appearance, he smiled. He had also thought that this might be Countess Agatha, his aunt, trying to interfere and probe in Avilis Castle.
Bertram's father was the sheriff of East County City.
He was born with the mark of Countess Agatha.
And he was also a baron of the palace.
In fact, he had spent money to buy the title of count from Countess Agatha.
It was usually done by merchants or landlords who had once been servants or vassals, such as the treasurer, sheriff, and even the butler of East County City, as well as the leaders of the subordinate trade caravan.
In other places, such people were called gentlemen and had honorary titles.
Baron of the palace was about the same.
In fact, in terms of actual status, he was even lower than baron of boor.
After all, baron of boor had fought with real battle achievements, and he still had real power under him. He had his own troops, and if he were lucky, he would be invincible on the battlefield, and he could continue to obtain the title of nobility with great battle achievements.
If a baron of palace wanted to level up, he would have to rely on the person who conferred him the title. He was just a servant who had the title of noble.
However, he could still represent that higher-level noble.
There were only two places that could be conferred the title of noble in the palace.
There were only two places.
The center of power of the Dukedom of Leo, Grand Duke Cameron's Lion Fort.
Or the East County that was independent of the Dukedom of Leo, the East County City of Countess Agatha!
Bertram opened his mouth and wanted to say something, but in the end, he lowered his head and smiled bitterly. "That's right, Baron Kant. Your guess is correct. I was indeed a mole sent by Countess Agatha to investigate Viscount Gibran."
"Continue. I like this story." Kant nodded.
"This is not a story."
Bertram retorted in a low voice.
However, his voice was even more decadent. "After that bloody battle ten years ago, Viscount Gibran became more and more strange. He even started to become independent from the jurisdiction of the East County."
"He has the status of a semi-independent warlord." Kant said calmly, "I understand."
"That is indeed the case."
Bertram also confirmed, "He even rejected Countess Agatha's orders from time to time."
Pausing for a moment, he continued, "But coming to Avilis Castle, even if I become a newly promoted knight apprentice, I am still excluded from the entire system of Viscount Gibran."
"But in your body, there is still the supernatural power that originates from Viscount Gibran."
Kant calmly reminded, "The fallen power that comes from the Abyss."
Bertram shook his head. "I don't know what the Abyss is or what the devil is. It's too complicated for me. This is something from myths and legends. I only know that I should obtain extraordinary power."
"And you really chose this power?" Kant raised his eyebrows. "It's very interesting."
"That's right."
Bertram nodded disappointedly. "But I didn't know that Viscount Gibran would actually be so depraved."
He thought of that terrifying demonic form, and it looked just like the legends said. He couldn't help but sigh, "My three senior brothers have already been completely controlled by that evil force. Even I was close to this force and was actually controlled by Viscount Gibran's consciousness at that time. All I knew was rage, slaughter, and hysterical madness!"
In fact, not to mention him, even the knight attendants were also controlled by that force.
Usually, they only felt that it was motivated by Viscount Gibran's reputation, and he did not care even if he noticed it.
But now that he thought about it carefully, he felt a chill run down their spines. This was clearly a special effect of using extraordinary power to control the surrounding soldiers, and they fought to the death for it. It was truly an irreparable madness!
"So this is the reason." Bertram connected the dots and said dejectedly, "The truth of the victory ten years ago."
This was indeed the truth.
Only this kind of demonic strength could defeat the main force of the thousands of people of the Silver Platter Kingdom, instead of relying on a bunch of cowardly soldiers, a bunch of militia and peasant soldiers who were recruited in a short time.
