HTLCCBFT Chapter 213

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 213

In the end, Trett and his group failed to escape.

Because Insait had gathered with the slaves during the day—an unusual movement—the squad leader responsible for secretly monitoring the spies promptly noticed this and reported it to sheriff Kane.

However, Kane was too preoccupied with other matters, and aside from mingling with the usually idle Trett and his companions, Insait had not engaged in any other suspicious activities, so the situation was not deemed highly urgent.

It wasn’t until that evening, when Kane read the report, that he immediately issued the order to “cease surveillance and proceed with direct arrest.”

Although they were a step too late and missed Insait’s whereabouts right after work, concealing the tracks of Trett and the others proved far more difficult than Insait had imagined.

The knocked-out patrol guards were quickly discovered, and the traitors, greedily laden with large amounts of food and valuables, were soon tracked down. Even though they scattered immediately, they couldn’t escape the encircling patrols that seemed to be everywhere.

Including the most cunning Insait, who had completely underestimated Laina city’s defensive strength, all were captured.

Yet, even as they were surrounded by an angry crowd, struck down heavily by the guards, and ruthlessly pinned to the ground in pain, one question still puzzled them:

Why had the planned granary fire, intended to divert the guards’ attention and cause chaos, never happened?

When the judge sternly explained the relevant laws and the severity of the consequences, almost all the prisoners fell into despair, frantically cursing everyone involved in the plan—except themselves.

Damn Insait!

They had no idea… no idea that such actions would lead to certain death!

Realizing why they had been exposed so quickly, Insait gave up any hope of survival. However, he was under such strict surveillance that even suicide was not permitted.

Seeing that Insait remained silent and unwilling to confess, Kane did not rush to torture him. Instead, he turned to judging Trett and the others.

Compared to Insait’s stubborn silence, Trett and his companions scrambled to confess in a desperate bid for the only chance of survival.

“What?”

Kane frowned when he heard that, to prevent leaks, they had tied up a reserve guard.

And when he learned they had imprisoned that guard in the granary equipped with an ignition mechanism, he could no longer sit still. He immediately took his personal guards and hurried to the granary himself.

From the patrol routes, the granary appeared quiet, with no signs of disturbance.

But upon closer inspection, the padlock was found to be loosely hanging.

They hadn’t been lying.

Kane’s heart sank as he ordered the heavy doors opened. The moment the doors swung wide, a thick, pungent smell of blood mixed with the acrid odor of burnt meat and grains assaulted them.

But no one paid attention to that.

Kane, along with the guards behind him, fixed their gazes on the figure kneeling silently, back turned to the door as if in deep slumber, leaning over several charred grain sacks.

Anyone could tell at a glance that this guard was long dead – with such severe burns and unnatural stillness, survival was impossible.

In the very center of the granary lay a large pool of blood containing several broken teeth… This extensive bloodstain connected to the half-charred corpse through a horrifying trail of blood.

One could imagine the tremendous willpower it must have taken for him to drag himself with such grave injuries to the ignition point, then with unimaginable courage, cover the impending flare-up with his own flesh and blood.

The price he paid to save this granary was the agony of hellfire scorching his entire body, and ultimately, death itself.

Kane closed his eyes briefly, took a deep breath, then wordlessly removed his hat.

The knight pages following him silently mirrored his gesture.

Quietly, they placed their right hands over their hearts and bowed deeply.

“We pay our respects to you, Mr. Jack.”

As nobility, he willingly offered this slave-born reserve guard the highest honor reserved for compatriots who died heroic deaths in battle.

Upon receiving the news, Oliver immediately rushed to Laina with the cat god and a few trusted followers including Fosse.

His first act upon arrival was to personally visit Jack’s home to see his widow, Marianne.

Marianne’s home was currently occupied by several neighbors who were also close friends – while many visitors had come after learning of Jack’s deeds, the newly widowed woman was immersed in profound grief, neither equipped for nor interested in social niceties. Her friends had therefore taken it upon themselves to politely turn visitors away.

She couldn’t comprehend: how could her husband, so alive and smiling during dinner, never return just because he was called to help old Edley who had fallen ill?

Their happy life together had barely lasted a year!

In her devastated state, Marianne temporarily couldn’t even care for her children: the understanding children roughly knew what had happened, crying for “Daddy to come back,” and had been temporarily taken in by neighbors.

Jack’s body was too badly burned to view, and had been buried the same day.

Marianne didn’t stop them – in fact, seeing her husband’s condition had nearly shattered her with heartbreak. Only after watching like a ghost as he was buried in the cemetery behind the divine temple, seeing the Priests pray for his peaceful rest and bless him to be sheltered by the great cat god’s glory in death, did she stabilize slightly.

Now she clung tightly to the few barely recognizable fragments of guard uniform she’d insisted on keeping before his burial.

When Oliver arrived with his party, he didn’t allow anyone else to open the door, instead knocking gently on the wooden door himself.

“More visitors,” sighed one neighbor woman helplessly. After exchanging looks with her companions, she rose to send the new guests away.

“Sorry, Marianne is extremely fragile right now and cannot…”

The moment the door opened and she came face-to-face with a beauty so astonishing it surpassed all imagination, her voice abruptly cut off.

Not all slaves had personally laid eyes upon the great lord, but everyone knew he possessed long, slightly curled golden hair that seemed condensed from brilliant sunlight.

Yet even more captivating than those golden locks was his flawless, exquisite countenance, which grew increasingly radiant beneath his beautiful smile—sacred and gentle, like an angel born from humanity’s fondest dreams.

Anyone who had seen him could never forget him.

And those who had never seen him would surely recognize him at a glance—such breathtaking beauty could only belong to the Angel Duke.

“You, you, you…”

Her eyes widened, her mind went blank, and her mouth jammed like a long-unused broken door.

Though she instantly recognized his identity and knew she ought to bow, she stood frozen, utterly stupefied.

“I am Oliver von Augusta Alexander George Musta.”

She listened dazedly to his melodious, courteous explanation: “…I am the lord of this territory and wish to see Marianne. I hope you can inform her.”

“Great cat god…”

Finally snapping back to reality, she nodded blankly, murmuring to herself as she stumbled back into the house on unsteady feet.

Unbeknownst to her, when she unconsciously uttered “cat god,” the golden-haired youth standing beside the duke—whose beauty transcended mortal realms—cast her a faint glance.

“Marianne, you must come out!” she exclaimed with shining eyes, tightly grasping the bewildered Marianne’s hands. “It’s the lord! Ahhh, it’s the lord! The lord has actually come to see you in person!”

Though stammering incoherently from excitement, her message was clear.

Everyone was instantly shocked: “What?!”

Marianne was too stunned to speak, but her body reacted faster than her consciousness.

By the time she regained awareness, she was already standing at the doorway, trembling as she bowed to the noble lord.

“Madam, I have learned from my trusted sheriff Kane about the heroic deeds of your husband, Jack,” Oliver gazed at the haggard-looking peasant woman, his eyes as gentle as his tone. “His courage, loyalty, and decisiveness successfully protected half a year’s worth of Laina city’s efforts, safeguarded the lives and property of Laina’s people, and indirectly helped the guards capture a despicable traitor. Though in my eyes, human lives are more precious than grain, all his contributions deserve the admiration, praise, and remembrance of every Laina citizen. And I assure you, as his family, you will never be forgotten by anyone.”

“Regarding survivor benefits for families of guards—whether they sacrificed their lives or sustained disabilities affecting their future lives, even if they were reservists—the assistance measures were just established half a month ago.”

In addition to a substantial monetary compensation, the bereaved families would receive monthly subsidies for food, children’s education, and medical care. Under equal circumstances, employment screening would prioritize the families of the deceased.

Never let heroes shed blood and tears.

To everyone’s surprise, Marianne, who had been listening blankly, shook her head at this moment.

“You need not do anything more, Your Highness.”

Her voice was hoarse and strained from excessive crying, but her resolve was firm.

“We have received enough from you.” Suppressing her longing for her husband and the grief that made her tremble, she spoke with effort: “If not for you, we would likely have perished last winter.”

Like fallen leaves buried under snow—silent until spring arrived, turning them into mud trampled deeper into the earth.

“Jack must have been content with your recognition; that is enough.”

The humble farmer’s wife, who had kept her head bowed, finally looked up, mustering all her courage to meet those clear blue eyes:

“Jack went willingly. I know him—he would never regret it. He held immense admiration and gratitude for you, and what he did—”

She took a deep breath, as if seeing once more her husband who had been ecstatic upon receiving his reserve guard uniform, jumping around the house like an overjoyed child.

“I know how proud he was of that uniform he wore.” Unconsciously, her eyes welled with tears, but she held back her sobs and spoke deliberately: “Thank you for your recognition, Your Highness. I grieve his departure, but I am also glad… glad to know that my husband Jack, until his last moment, remained worthy of the uniform he wore.”

She knew.

Had she been the one trapped in the granary facing the fire that night—

Had she been presented with the same choice, holding the same opportunity—she would have acted without hesitation.

She closed her eyes, tears finally streaming down uncontrollably, her voice breaking apart: “He did well. I will always be proud of him.”

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