The fields of late autumn are about to enter the cold winter, from the silver leaf town in the east of Nogo all the way to the west, along the way through the field of flowers, the scenery of the silver leaf forest is gradually fading away in the sight of the sudden retrospective, the road ahead is close to the continuous mountains of Nogo, and the travelers and merchants driving horse-drawn carriages along the way are gradually becoming scarce-

"Cohen—"

Princess Samantha, who was in the ranks of the lancers, had already woken up by this time, she was sitting on horseback, her tattered dark gray lady's hunting suit had been replaced by a pink and white narrow-sleeved gauze skirt, as a high-ranking powerhouse, the impact of the previous explosion had not actually hurt her too badly - and she had only passed out because her head had been unlucky to hit a small raised rock.

It hurts.

Princess Samantha's turquoise eyes seemed to be stained with a faint layer of moisture, and she couldn't help but reach out and touch the back of her head again, and in that place, a bulge proved that the scene she had experienced was not an illusion - the young captain of the guard, who was riding beside her, heard her voice and immediately greeted her, and he looked at the princess, and his tone was full of concern:

"Your Royal Highness Princess, does it matter?"

"Well, it's okay. What about everyone? ”

She still remembered the last scene before she fell unconscious, and naturally remembered that the little thing flying towards her was an alchemy bomb, which looked like a long-planned assassination - but before the head of the guard, Cohen, could reply, Princess Samantha turned her head leisurely, and soon saw a large number of wounded, white-bandaged lancers.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness Princess. There were a lot of mercenaries in that gang of assassins—"

The other party is just a few mercenaries, but they are the elite lancers of the Northland Legion, and the occurrence of such a thing made Cohen feel that his face was a little unbearable, he paused slightly, and prepared his words, "Not only do they have a lot of alchemy bombs, but they also use a war spell scroll......

"War Spell Scroll?"

As the "White Rose" of the royal family, Princess Samantha understands the war spell scroll - in general, the maker of the spell scroll needs to have a higher level of strength. If the lowest fourth ring spell recorded on this war spell scroll is the lowest, then it is certain that the maker himself has at least the strength to cast the fifth ring spell, which corresponds to a high-level awakening level, even in the royal family, it belongs to the level of court mage.

Combined with the crafting materials itself, a War Spell Scroll is bound to cost a lot of money. Princess Samantha, who had figured out these things, refocused her gaze as she stared at Cohen, the chief of the guard:

"What about the mercenaries?"

"Sorry to let them run."

When talking about this, Cohen was a little depressed, and he couldn't help but think of the "mercenary". The other party's actions had already challenged his dignity and completely touched his nerves, but he had to watch the guy swagger away.

"Her Royal Highness the Princess......"

Cohen felt that his actions were already a form of dereliction of duty, and he could not forgive himself in his heart at all. But Princess Samantha didn't seem to care about this, she just raised her head, as if she was looking into the distance, and her tone carried the usual calmness and calmness.

"Cohen, did you guess who it was?"

"Yes, Your Highness Princess."

"Well, let's not say it yet. I have an answer. ”

Princess Samantha sat on horseback, her calves cocked to the sides, stretching like a little girl, and when she looked at her face again, her pink lips inadvertently pursed into a straight line.

……

The manor of Silver Leaf Town.

Locke Lambert, the nominal and actual lord of the local and actual lord of the kingdom, was reclining in a large buckskin chair, absentmindedly flipping through the stack of official papers on his desk, and a tall, middle-aged man with a beard and a tall beard standing in front of him.

His face seemed a little gloomy, like a dark sky about to rain, and the maid of the manor brought some fruit and snacks, and carefully withdrew from the study—this was a very beautiful commoner girl, but after noticing the count's face today, she felt like a frightened rabbit all the way away, and her heart kept beating.

She had heard many secret rumors about the Earl, who had become more and more addicted to a peculiar habit when his temper had become terrible, so terrible that the maidens described it with a great deal of fear.

She had been sent here today—the civilian girl had long known that her fate had been one with that of Master Rawls, and although she was not so willing, she did not say anything to refuse in the end.

When a woman has outstanding beauty but does not have enough strength to protect herself or be protected, she is often prone to becoming the plaything of others.

Her footsteps were on the wooden spiral staircase, and a white carrier pigeon flew from the corner of the sky, swept through the mountains and forests near the town of Silver Leaf, and landed on the terrace outside the study.

Count Lambert got up and left his study, and went out onto the terrace, and after taking some dry grains of wheat from the box, he untied a roll of paper from the pigeon's lap—a special means of communication between him and a certain nobleman in the royal capital of Elva, though correspondence was seldom exchanged except for matters of great urgency.

He quickly finished reading the contents of the paper, his already gloomy face was more like it was about to drip water, his delicately made boots "creaked" on the red-painted wooden floor, and he walked up to the middle-aged man with a beard, and his long, narrow eyes suddenly opened.

"Captain Charlotte, is this the news from your mercenary group?"

He threw the paper on the face of the middle-aged man, who was a head taller than the Earl, but now he was just like a well-behaved pet dog, bowing his head and pulling his head.

The head of the Bobcat Mercenary Regiment, Charlotte. Ever since he had decided to give his life to the Earl, he knew what he was about to lose, but he knew even more that he and his mercenary regiment would no longer have to wander as they had done before—any gain would come at a cost, and he knew that.

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