The Duke of Bemessi no longer pinned his hopes on the Church, and the army led by the White Knight, entrenched in the eastern territory of the Duchy, was greatly shocked and annoyed by the fact that after the capture of a baron's fortress, he began to recruit again.

"Mistress, what did the messenger sent by the Duke say?" Sir Hilton sat by the window, wiping his sword with a piece of woollen wool, and asked Countess Randall.

"The Duke has gathered the army of the vassals, and I am ready to send you with a force." The countess sat elegantly on the lord's seat, she wore a long dark green dress, and three gold hair rings pinned to the ends of her hair, and the chic hair rings made her face even more noble and beautiful.

"It's an eye-opener that the Duke will be defeated by a group of serfs." Sir Hilton reinserted his sword into its scabbard, and he sat under the windowsill with a contemptuous smile.

"It's really strange that the Duke's own direct knights were defeated, and I don't think that's what a rabble can do." Countess Randall's slender white fingers tapped on the armrest, she frowned slightly, to say that Duke Bemessi was taken lightly, but it was impossible to be defeated by the rebels one after another.

"What do your eyes say?" Sir Hilton put away his smile, and he sensed something unusual about it.

As the leader of a tribal nation, Countess Randall also has her own spy network, which she calls beautiful eyes.

"Three things, the first is that the leader of the rebels calls himself the White Knight, the heir of the White King." A smile tugged at the corners of Countess Randall's lips as she crossed her legs and placed her hands on her knees, the gold leaf bracelets on her wrists clashing with a crisp tinkling sound.

"Nonsense, the descendants of the White King have long since died, and the Black King is a delicate person." Sir Hilton cursed, believing that those who believed the rumor were fools.

"But many people at the bottom believe that they all believe that the white king is a legitimate good king, and that the black king's rule is not legitimate." Countess Randall explained.

"A bunch of idiots." Sir Hilton cursed again.

"The second thing is that the Duke of Bemessi agreed to the eleventh tax proposed by the church, and then the Knights of Divine Grace came to the rescue." Countess Randall held out two beautiful fingers, and Sir Hilton noticed that her nails were purple.

"The church? Ha, I really will choose the right one, I doubt that it was the church that caused this serf riot. "Sir Hilton had to keep trying to introduce the tithing tax among the nobles, but the nobles regarded it as a fart, and it was not easy to get money out of them.

"I don't rule it out." Countess Randall smiled, and she also suspected that the Church was behind the riot in order to force the Duke of Bemessy to agree to the tithe.

"So what's the third thing?" Sir Hilton asked curiously, because the biggest thing at the moment should have been said, but the countess actually said that there was a third thing.

"The third thing, the Locke family has a new baron, the same kid we met, who actually killed Lord Jeffrey the Kinthirsty and occupied Jeffrey's castle." Countess Randall blinked, her long eyelashes almost covering her beautiful eyes.

"What, what is this?" Sir Hilton couldn't help but laugh when he heard this, the first two things were about the principality and the church, and a dispute between a baron and a lord was not a matter at all.

"It's my personal interest, ha, the first time I saw him, I thought he wouldn't be a mediocre person." The Countess Randall spat out the tip of her tongue playfully, like a mischievous child, and of course Sir Hilton was her nurturer, and in front of this knight she was like a child who would never grow up.

"My mistress, don't care about that little baron, think about how to deal with the duke!" Sir Hilton said helplessly.

"The kin-lovers have always coveted the land of the valley left by my mother, and now that he has been killed, do you think I should thank the little baron." But Countess Randall was interested, she continued.

"That's true, but the little baron doesn't know anything about us, and the duke seems to be very hostile to him." Sir Hilton frowned, he was troubled by the countess's jumping thoughts.

"I give him some gifts, in this chaotic world, it's always good to have one more friend." Countess Randall stood up and said with a smile.

"And what are you going to give?" Sir asked.

"Something special." The Countess Randall stepped down from her seat, and she stepped aside and lifted her hand to remove the curtain that hung from the columns, and turned back to Sir Hilton.

Bruce almost also learned some information about the Duke from Stukov, and he relied on his knowledge of history in later generations to believe that the church was behind the scenes, but at this time he did not have the ability to argue with the church, but fortunately, no one in the church would take him seriously at this time.

"You mean a duke is gathering vassals?" Bruce touched his chin and asked Stukov.

"Yes, he is gathering his counts and wants them to send an army." Stukov stood in front of Bruce, the collection of intelligence networks is actually spending money, and it is impossible to buy truly valuable intelligence without spending money, and he is very pleased that Bruce knows this very well.

"How many soldiers can we gather now?" Hearing Stukov's words, Bruce's eyebrows furrowed, and he felt that the opportunity seemed to have come to him.

"What are you going to do?" Stukov asked, puzzled.

"Can you muster five hundred soldiers?" Bruce asked Stukov.

"Five hundred people should be enough, do you want to respond to the summoning order? But we have a bad relationship with the Duke, will he approve of it? Stukov said worriedly that Duke Bemessi supported Bruce's brother James, and after James's death, the Duke even spread many rumors about Bruce, and the relationship between the two sides was extremely bad, and Bruce also thought that there would be a war with the Duke.

"Now things have taken a turn for the better, we can't be enemies of the Duke, we should be his friends." Bruce said to Stukov with a smile.

"How dare you think about it." Stukov's one-eyed look at Bruce to confirm that he wasn't joking.

"Go, find out for me, we must become vassals of the Duke again." Bruce leaned back in his chair and decided to be a loyal servant, but it was up to him to define a loyal servant.