HTLCCBFT Chapter 155

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 155

Count McKenna had actually been contemplating for a long time about “how exactly to intimidate that young duke.”

The ever shrewd and cunning Lord of Gregor City was well aware that his efforts to compete for a chip he deemed essentially worthless were primarily a symbolic gesture of allegiance to the ill-tempered new king, rather than a genuine desire to plunge into the terrifying vortex of royal power struggles.

Although his loyal old butler seemed quite partial to the new king—McKenna didn’t share the sentiment.

Most individuals on his illustrious family tree possessed relatively sharp political instincts. While not sufficient to confidently take sides in advance, these instincts had consistently allowed them to preserve their share through various turbulent times.

While preparing to deploy troops, this intuition suddenly came into play: King Cameron’s throne might not remain stable for long.

Of course, he saw no need to point this out to his highly opinionated butler.

Regardless of the underlying motive, it meant that the “intimidation” had to be precisely calibrated: enough to allow him to pluck the victory fruit of Albury City, yet not so severe as to permanently alienate Duke Oliver.

The principle was simple, but how to execute it?

McKenna had spent considerable time fretting over this very point.

What he never dreamed of was that before he could devise the perfect plan, the young duke—who should have been completely unaware of his sudden attack—had already discerned his intentions.

What baffled him even more was that, despite knowing this, the other party neither cowered and fled, nor nervously prepared for battle within the castle, nor leveraged his noble status to request reinforcements from nobles of other cities.

Instead, he inexplicably chose to set out earlier, intercept him on the road, and calmly declare…

“Has the battle begun?”

McKenna’s ears seemed to echo with that nonchalant statement, leaving only one thought in his mind.

Damn it.

Before dismounting, he roughly assessed the size of the army following the duke—at most just over eight hundred men. Aside from the dozen or so mounted knight leaders at the front of the formation, the rest wore what could only be described as crude armor and wielded an assortment of miscellaneous weapons.

Of course, McKenna didn’t know that there weren’t actually “a dozen or so knights,” but rather four genuine, exceptionally skilled knights and former knights, along with recruits they had personally selected from freemen and trained throughout the winter and spring.

“No matter how low their actual combat effectiveness,” Fosse—who held high standards for himself and those serving His Highness Oliver—commented with unconscious harshness about these hastily promoted knight attendants, “at least they present some semblance of form and can serve minor purposes.”

The weapons appeared diverse because they originated from different previous owners: the most damaged and antiquated-looking ones had been gathering dust in Laina City’s armory; the slightly better-conditioned but wildly varied ones came from that unlucky bandit group; while the highest quality and most uniform in style were those Oliver had reclaimed from the rebels—the original Albury armaments.

Looking at the ridiculous attire of the so-called “soldiers,” McKenna couldn’t help but reveal a subtle smile tinged with both pity and infatuation.

Did this naive little duke truly intend to confront his two thousand soldiers with a force that appeared inferior to mere mercenaries and just over a dozen knights?

Indeed, this was the beautiful, innocent young duke who had been coddled by the old king—utterly unversed in the ways of the world.

Even with the famously fierce and brave former knight commander Fosse remaining steadfastly by his side, and Noel who had distinguished himself through martial prowess in the king’s royal guard… these two alone could never hope to defeat his army!

“Oh, esteemed Grace.”

After a moment’s reflection, Count McKenna felt not a trace of tension, but instead found the young duke pitiable yet endearing.

What did he resemble?

Gazing with tolerant greed at that beautiful face, Count McKenna quickly recalled a small bird that had been perched on a branch, startled into flight by his arrow aimed at a young deer.

A stunningly colorful bird that drew all eyes, equipped with sharp claws and beak to fend off insects, yet remained fragile and defenseless before him.

“You must have misunderstood something.”

While remounting his horse under the protection of his gathering guards, he leisurely offered a rebuttal, completely dismissing Oliver’s words: “I bear no ill will toward you. Perhaps you’d be willing to trust your poor neighbor’s words and invite me to Albury’s castle for a visit?”

McKenna believed his only concern should be those two knight commanders renowned even in the royal capital—though Fosse clearly had no intention of leaving the young lord’s side. Despite giving brief commands to the “army” behind him, he remained expressionlessly stationed beside Oliver.

Ha.

He even had leisure to amusingly ponder: Not even the old king could have imagined that his once coldest, most ruthless knight commander would so obediently kneel before the Angel Duke’s beauty, could he?

This laughable “army” soon, under Fosse and Noel’s commands, loosely encircled Count McKenna’s forces which nearly doubled their numbers.

It was like using fragile parchment as a sword sheath—while superficially resembling the real thing, anyone could see it would shatter at the slightest pressure.

Not just McKenna, even Gregor’s forces maintained relaxed morale.

Yet Oliver appeared quite satisfied with this porous “encirclement.”

“Good. Remember to keep your distance later.”

He gave a slight nod to Fosse, then leisurely donned the two Rings of the Cat God—after his persistent requests, the Cat God had finally obediently dimmed their startling brightness considerably.

Though they remained quite beautiful rings, their warm glow was hardly noticeable under the strong daylight.

“Before we begin, dear Cat God,” Oliver suddenly inquired in a low voice after putting on the rings, addressing the deity beside him on a whim: “Could you please make my… hmm, movement speed faster?”

“Of course.”

The golden-haired deity agreed without batting an eye, and with remarkable efficiency, immediately infused a wisp of his divine essence into the ring.

Oliver blinked.

Though he hadn’t tested it yet… the moment the Cat God agreed, he instantly felt his body become immeasurably lighter.

“Excellent.”

Though McKenna noticed the blond lord suddenly wearing two rings, he paid it no mind.

His gaze soon shifted from those slender fingers back to the young Duke’s face—a visage so captivating under the sunlight it seemed to radiate its own brilliance, making it increasingly difficult to look away.

It was only then that he feigned a sigh: “Ah, why must you refuse to believe me? Since you insist on this course, I have no choice but to—”

His words cut off abruptly.

The Duke’s mount—a pure white steed—suddenly lazily snorted, then pawed the ground, its iron-shod hooves kicking up a small cloud of dust.

Though he couldn’t explain why, the McKenna family blood flowing through his veins—a source of lifelong pride—suddenly brought him an unprecedented wave of ominous premonition.

A bone-chilling cold shot up his spine like an electric current, striking straight through his scalp.

Wherever that electric chill passed, uncontrollable goosebumps visibly emerged.

“Protect me!!!”

Without further thought, the freshly dismounted Count McKenna practically tumbled into the carriage compartment while shouting in panic: “Do your duty now!”

Protect what?

The knights who moments earlier had been scoffing at the oddly-dressed soldiers were now utterly bewildered by Count McKenna’s sudden terror.

“Forgive our impertinence, Your Grace.”

After this perfunctory apology, the twenty-three knights loyal to the McKenna family—though unclear about the situation—unhesitatingly ordered their subordinates to attack the Oliver troops surrounding them.

As for Duke Oliver…

After exchanging silent glances, they immediately resolved to “capture” him.

Neither they nor their master would dare directly harm a Duke, nor could they demand ransom—but if they could take him alive, this troublesome battle could end prematurely.

Having decided this, only two knights voluntarily remained in the rear to temporarily command the two thousand soldiers, while the remaining twenty-one well-trained knights swiftly advanced toward Oliver.

Fosse narrowed his eyes dangerously.

He had discerned their intentions the moment they exchanged glances.

Instinctively, he drew his sword, ready to engage.

But remembering his young master’s prior instructions…

Fosse restrained himself with difficulty. Only his steed, sensing his sudden surge of battle intent, naturally took a step forward before being reined in, letting out a disgruntled whinny.

To the astonishment of Gregor City’s knights, after this brief delay, the possessor of the world’s most exquisitely enchanting countenance—The blond Duke suddenly had a round, pitch-black sphere appear out of thin air in his hand, emitting a strange hissing sound.

The peculiar dark sphere was “pinched” between his snow-white, delicate fingers, creating a stark contrast in color alone.

But the sphere wasn’t large. When the Duke placed it on the ground, aside from the unsettling sound it made, no one imagined it could serve any real purpose.

“Fosse, step back further.”

Apart from this warning, Oliver offered no further explanation. He simply walked along naturally, placing one after another of those strange black spheres on the path he had taken.

A few seconds later.

“BOOM——————”

With the first unremarkable “black sphere” exploding violently, an ear-splitting blast accompanied by a terrifying shockwave surged skyward.

Everyone was too stunned to react, their expressions completely blank.

This included the two knights who had charged the fastest and were closest to the Duke: like fragile sacks caught in a gale, they were swept straight into the air by the terrifying force!!!

---