The White Knight received a secret message from the Black Butler that the Duke of Bemessi had gathered his vassal forces and prepared to attack the rebels entrenched in the eastern realms.

"Whew." The White Knight looked at the parchment scroll in his hand, a scroll only three fingers wide, with yellowed handwriting on it the information that the Black Butler had given him.

After reading the information on the paper, the white knight's face was calm and terrifying, he stood up and lifted the curtain of the tent, there was a bonfire burning outside the tent, the white knight threw the paper in his hand into the bonfire, the flame quickly swallowed the roll of paper, a wisp of green smoke floated up, and accompanied by the smell of sheepskin.

"Your Highness, someone has come to join us again." Carlos hurried over, where they were entrenched was a dilapidated monastery, where the monks had already fled, where the rebels had occupied various rooms, and where there were plenty of campfire tents outside.

"Really?" The White Knight turned to Carlos.

"That's right, the Duke of Bemessi's rule has long been unpopular, and the oppressed serfs are overwhelmed, and when they learn that you are the son of prophecy of the rightful heir to the White King, they abandon their villages to serve you." Carlos laughed and said to the White Knight.

"Child of Prophecy?" The White Knight asked thoughtfully.

"I'm not a big believer in prophecy or anything, but if everyone believes that you are the child of prophecy, our army will continue to expand." Although the White Knight's army was heavily damaged by the Divine Knights under the castle of Duke Bemessi and lost its average strength, the White Knights kept the elite of the generals in advance and evacuated, and after retreating to the eastern territories, they quickly regrouped their troops, and it has to be said that the rumors spread by the Carlos faction played a big role.

"It seems that the Duke of Bemessi intends to attack us and regain control of his eastern realms." After listening to Carlos's words, the white knight said to the wandering knight.

"What, is he going to send the Divine Grace Knight to attack?" Carlos's brow furrowed, the terrifying combat power of the Divine Grace Knights was awe-inspiring, although they were numerous, but the Divine Grace Knights' charge shook the mountains as if the end had descended.

"I don't know." The White Knight said that he had concealed the news that the Grace Knight would not be on the expedition, because if he had told Carlos about it, he would not have been able to explain why he would have known about it.

"The only people who can deal with the Knights of Divine Grace are the Berserkers of the North, Kate's Yew Bow Marksman, the Champion Knights of the Kingdom of Blue, and the Mamluks of the Eastern Pagans." Carlos lowered his head, pinched his wrist and said to the White Knight.

"That's right." The White Knight nodded, his army hired Northern Berserkers, but the number was very scarce, not enough for the other party's fifty or so Divine Grace Knights.

"Shall we leave, then?" Although Carlos does not want to flee again, the situation is pressing, and he must save this valuable army.

"Are you going to run away again?" The White Knight asked rhetorically.

"It's a pity, if the king is willing to lend it to us~~." Carlos said regretfully, but was interrupted by the White Knight.

"We're not leaving, we're going to have a showdown with the Duke of Bemessey here." The White Knight said categorically.

"Oh, is there anything you can do?" Carlos looked at the helmeted white knight, a mysterious noble knight who always seemed to be able to defeat strong enemies.

The Duke of Bemessi finally made a plan, and he decided to gather the army of six and a half hundred of his vassals and sail to the eastern realm, where the terrain was no more familiar than his, and one of the territories was a basin, where the terrain was flat and uncovered for the best place for a decisive battle.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we will fight a decisive battle with the rebels here and annihilate them in one fell swoop." Duke Bemessi triumphantly pointed to the map and said to the vassals.

"But isn't it too crowded here?" But soon there were vassals who objected, believing that the basin, although flat, was too small to accommodate six thousand soldiers at once, which would cause them inconvenience.

"It's okay, that rabble, as long as we send half of our men, I'm afraid they will be scared and flee in all directions." There were also vassals who said nonchalantly that they thought an army of peasants could have any fighting power.

"Well, I don't think you can take these rebels lightly." Sir Hilton looked at the arrogant nobles and said cautiously.

"Sir Hilton, you can't think too much of these serfs, don't you? The gaze of you and your mistress is too convincing to us. The nobles laughed, Sir Hilton and his mistress Countess Randall, thinking that the Baron of the Locke family would become the Duke's help, so they acted as intermediaries, but they did not expect to be proved to be nothing more than a drunkard Baron Bruce, and the nobles had long been privately laughed at this.

"If you're insulting my mistress, then I don't mind throwing your gloves at you." Sir Hilton frowned, and as he took off his leather gloves, he said to the nobleman.

Duels between nobles are usually the beginning of one party throwing their gloves and the other party accepting them, for the sake of honor and the noble lady of their hearts, the nobles of the blood will choose the duel as a means of resolving disputes, and the nobles who can die in the duel will also become the object and material of the bard's recitation.

"Alright, we're holding a meeting to make a battle plan, and all of you adults can control your anger." Seeing that the meeting was about to turn into a duel, the Duke of Bemessi hurriedly spoke up, and in front of the Duke's authority, the two sides sat back down.

Eventually, with the best efforts of the Duke of Bemessi, the vassals reached a plan of attack, and they were to fight the Judgment in the Eastern Basin, and the Duke was prepared to send emissaries to invite each other to battle according to the etiquette of the nobles.

"Lord Duke, the other party is just a group of rebels, why did you send an envoy to invite you to battle?" The vassals were surprised by Duke Bemessi's actions, believing that the other party was unworthy of his lowly status.

"I've heard that the leader of this rebel army claims to be the heir of the White King, so I should give him a little respect!" Duke Bemessi said to the vassals with a smile.

"It's just a lie from a lowly serf, and you don't need to pay attention to it." The vassals said disdainfully.

"Even if it's a pre-war game, I'd love to see what the other person looks like." The Duke of Bemessi said very firmly.

Sir Hilton and the others felt strange, but they did not continue to object, after all, this was not a big deal, but at this moment, on the path outside the castle of Duke Bermesey, a strange force appeared, and they were slowly approaching under the leadership of a strange banner.