HTLCCBFT Chapter 169

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 169

Even if the messenger from Gregor city rode at full speed all the way, it still took over half a month for the secret message to reach the distant royal capital.

Summer had officially entered its middle to late stages, and the weather grew increasingly hot and dry, leaving people restless and irritable.

As the former deputy knight commander of the Duke’s Knight Order, Loyel[mfn]罗伊尤(luó yī yóu) – ‘Loyal'[/mfn] did not wallow in resentment after being forcibly separated from his master, Duke Oliver, by the new king.

After watching Fosse, Noel, and the others escort the young lord away from the royal capital, he even rationally restrained the most hot-headed knights who had sworn on the spot to infiltrate the palace and assassinate the new king.

“Fools! Do you think that damned Cameron wouldn’t be prepared after issuing such an order?”

Loyel suppressed his anger and said coldly, “If you take the flaws he deliberately exposed at face value and charge into the palace now, you’ll stand out like lice on velvet—he could easily crush you arrogant fools. And thanks to your impulsiveness, he’d have a ready-made, perfect excuse of ‘plotting against the king’ to immediately send troops to capture and persecute the young lord.”

How could he not despise that vile and cruel usurper?

Not only had he brutally killed his own father—their once-sworn master—to seize power, but he had also relentlessly pursued his brothers.

He refused to spare even Oliver, the youngest brother who had no interest in competing for the throne and was utterly harmless compared to his elder brother, forcing Lord Oliver to disband the Duke’s Knight Order and exile them to the cursed land where eight lords had died within a year!

Loyel took a deep breath, his voice icy. “I hate him more than any of you.”

Fortunately, although the Duke’s Knight Order was forcibly disbanded, the authority built over more than a decade of working together was not easily shaken.

The knights still wore expressions of indignation but temporarily abandoned their plan to storm the palace.

Knights loyal to their beliefs and oaths were brave and fearless, unafraid of death.

But they had a weakness—their most vulnerable and gentle young master.

“For now, we must endure, for His Highness.”

The others, filled with righteous anger, exchanged glances and repeated with restraint, “For His Highness.”

Loyel, his face grim, led the twelve of them back to his own territory.

Though small, this territory bordered the royal city and had been awarded to him for his significant achievements on the battlefield before he passed the selection for the Holy Knight Order.

Of course, even in the Duke’s Knight Order, where the knights were almost exclusively of noble birth and the highest bloodlines, only a few owned their own territories.

Those Loyel brought back were all members of the knight order who, after being expelled, refused to change their oaths and serve a new master, and had no territory to return to.

The taxes paid by the farmers were enough to sustain their livelihoods, especially since they had not been stripped of their property—crossing that line of noble rights was something Cameron, with his unstable position, wanted to do but absolutely dared not.

Over the following year, they lived respectably and peacefully, seemingly idle but never slacking in their training.

Loyel also maintained secret correspondence with Fosse all along.

To avoid detection by Cameron, messages from Laina arrived only once every two or three months, and their contents were extremely brief.

Yet every time Loyel received even a few words, he was overjoyed, repeatedly reading those simple sentences while imagining the current situation of the young lord and his companions.

Fearing he might endanger Oliver, he refrained from directly inquiring about the capital’s affairs and instead wrote about his own circumstances.

What brought him great comfort was that after the catastrophe, no coward had emerged—none so timid as to pledge allegiance to another master.

They were all quietly waiting and preparing, firmly believing that one day they would return to their lord’s side.

That day…

Loyel stared blankly at the familiar handwriting on the paper, his pupils trembling slightly.

Had finally arrived.

“Everyone, gather here!”

Upon hearing the deputy knight commander’s shout, the knights immediately set aside their tasks and hurried to the hall.

Only after the doors were tightly shut did they notice with surprise that Loyel, usually as composed as Mr. Fosse, had uncharacteristically reddened eyes.

If not for knowing it was impossible, Loyel’s expression at that moment… almost seemed as if he had just been crying.

But Loyel’s next words made them completely forget his nasal voice and red eyes, their minds struck as if by thunder, ears ringing.

The ever-stern deputy knight commander said clearly and firmly: “I’m giving you the entire afternoon to pack essential belongings—we leave tonight.”

The reason for delaying a full afternoon wasn’t because he lacked urgency—how could he not be anxious? After this endlessly long year, he wished he could abandon everything immediately and fly back to his master’s side.

But if they left sporadically, those departing first might escape easily, while those following would alert that damned Cameron in the capital and be forcibly detained.

He needed to allow enough time for fellow knights outside his territory to depart together… and night provided the best cover.

The knights exchanged glances, hearts kindling with a hope they dared not examine closely.

“Mr. Loyel,” someone mustered courage to ask tremulously, “Where are we going?”

“To Gregor city.” Loyel’s voice now sounded comically nasal, but nobody cared—or even noticed—as all clearly heard his next words: “To our master, to our young lord’s side!”

Similar conversations occurred that day in small territories near the capital.

Having learned from past recklessness, the knight order members acted cautiously—not only keeping silent to others but packing only the most essential items.

As dusk fell, almost the moment the capital gates closed as usual, thirty-seven figures appeared in orderly formation on the southern road.

Without exchanging a single word, they vanished into the night.

Two days later, Cameron finally received the belated news from Lord Welph of Riche city.

“How is this possible!”

Before his trusted aides, the king, clad in a dazzling golden robe so resplendent it could blind onlookers, felt his chest tighten and cried out in disbelief: “That damned fool Gride!”

The newly crowned monarch, who had only just begun to win over his subjects after a full year of tedious power struggles, flew into a rage on the spot.

He knew all too well: if this news reached those detestable nobles still watching from the sidelines, all his efforts over the past year would be wasted!

Cameron’s fury knew no bounds, and his reaction was swift: he immediately dispatched small troops to the territories of knights like Loyel to capture the former forces of the rebellious Duke.

But it was far too late.

When the soldiers stormed into the territories like wolves and tigers, they found them completely empty.

The knights, eager to depart, moved like the most agile cheetahs, traveling day and night with only necessary breaks for their mounts.

Though aware that Cameron couldn’t have set traps for them so quickly, they took no chances and avoided all towns along the way, enduring the hardships of the open road.

It was midsummer, and the sudden turn of events meant they carried limited water and provisions—enough for only four or five days each.

But this posed little challenge for the high-ranking knights, whose archery skills matched their riding prowess. While their exhausted horses grazed and rested, they took turns hunting in the woods.

The game roaming the forests became their ready sustenance.

Occasionally, merchants traveling between cities would encounter this group, trembling at their imposing and unusual demeanor.

Wool merchant Wul was one of them.

On the forty-second day of summer, having just concluded several major deals, he left Riche city early—while the Summer Market was still ongoing—and headed for Gregor city with his half-full cargo wagon.

As a well-informed merchant, he had learned days earlier about the change in leadership at Gregor city.

Many merchants who had never been to Albury or Laina hesitated to travel to Gregor city upon hearing that the noble Duke had executed the captive Count McKenna.

If even a respected Count couldn’t escape death… how cruel must that Duke be?

Wul, who had met the Duke in person and conducted business with him twice, felt no fear at all.

Yet he didn’t bother persuading the indecisive merchants; in fact, he secretly hoped they wouldn’t go!

Whether the Angel Duke, who always brought miracles to cities, would make Gregor city shine in a new light, he wasn’t entirely sure.

But he knew full well how Albury city had been transformed in just one spring under the Duke’s governance, earning the revered title “city of Fine Wines” among many merchants.

Those popular wines, which nobles snapped up with gold coins in a single day, were all goods he had sourced from Albury after selling his wool!

“Everything was perfect,” he murmured, unable to contain his excitement at the memory of the substantial profits. “The only problem was the limited supply!”

What had the steward done back then?

Even when wealthy merchants offered higher prices to buy out entire batches of wine, the Albury side had refused.

They preferred to take the trouble…

In the eyes of the great merchants who had returned in defeat, this decision seemed incomprehensible, even utterly foolish. Yet Wul held a completely opposite view.

Though the shrewd wool merchant did not fully grasp the dangers of monopolies and malicious competition, he vaguely sensed the clever intent behind it.

Moreover, he was quite pleased with the outcome: despite being the largest wool merchant in the region, his financial resources paled in comparison to those major jewelry and wine merchants.

Being allocated a portion of the goods and profiting from them was his primary motive for insisting on passing through Gregor city to reach Albury.

Though he did not understand why that unbelievably beautiful Angel Duke insisted on executing the captive Count McKenna…

After their two encounters, Wul remained firmly convinced that Duke Oliver was no bloodthirsty madman. Reassured, he proceeded with the plan and set off for the next stop with his merchant caravan.

But he never expected that just one day after departing from Riche city, he would be overtaken by this group of strange individuals.

When the synchronized, heavy hoofbeats echoed from afar and rapidly closed in like a sweeping gale, everyone in his caravan felt their hearts race with fear.

They couldn’t possibly be merchants.

Those with extensive travel experience realized this with despair—for a simple reason: carriages laden with either heavy or precious, fragile goods could never move that fast!

It could only be the newly emerged bandit group in the vicinity.

“Great Cat God, please protect us!”

Wul inwardly lamented his misfortune, clutching the small Divine Statue he had purchased at a high price from a Lainan merchant during his last trip, silently praying.

When he had insisted on spending so much money to buy this small Divine Statue, crafted from modest materials, it wasn’t out of piety.

Rather…

Though the statue did not carve the face of God, it featured exquisitely carved cat ears on its head and a lifelike long tail trailing behind, with a slender and elegant posture—it was truly beautiful.

Even if it were merely treasured as a piece of art, he would have been more than willing.

Now, it happened to be convenient for his prayers.

Wul smiled wryly to himself, wondering how he could be so unlucky.

He held no hope of preserving his possessions.

He only prayed that the approaching bandits weren’t too vicious and would spare his life after he voluntarily surrendered everything.

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