"The more you care, the more vulnerable you become..."

The Count of Carolus stood alone on the castle's watchtower, muttering as if he were comforting himself.

He held on to the wooden railing with both hands, letting the snowflakes stick to his stomach and build up a thin layer.

The place is quiet.

So that he can just stand motionless, talk to himself like a fool, and don't worry about any bad rumors.

Except that the wind is somewhat strong.

"I don't have a choice..."

"Oh, every man always says that when honor calls. ”

"You have a choice, this is your choice!"

"Ana, you know..."

Images of the quarrel flashed through the earl's mind, and when the bitter cold wind blew across his cheeks, he stopped and looked into the distance.

From early in the morning until now.

He had been standing here for a long time, the snow-white forest stretching out in view, but it was blocked by the towering mountains in the distance.

Three full days have passed since that battle.

After settling in Ilketling with his men, the Count took command of the area in the name of the Legion Commander, and his first order was to send the Rangers to Silverblade Castle to investigate, but there has been no response to him until now.

Unless there is some accident, Ilketring and Silverblade Castle are not too far away, and if you gallop along the Kingdom Road, three days is enough time to make a round trip!

"Damn! Is it really the boy of the Stoke family who said it!" Although the Earl's face looked as usual, it was still evident from the hands that were tightly gripping the railing and the cyan veins on the backs of his hands that were bulging from excessive exertion.

The irritability that began with worry made the Count slam his fist at the railing with some irritation, and the snow was shaken down and popped.

Lance is still unconscious, and Maester Bruce says that it may be due to excessive physical and mental exertion, at least not life-threatening.

This is not the object of his concern.

To be honest, the Count was still very grateful for Lance's assistance, so as for his suggestion, even if the soldiers had already repaired, he still forced the anxiety in his heart to stay still.

After all, the current situation, the self-proclaimed shield of the kingdom has become a little difficult for him, and the nobleman's intuition tells the count that he seems to have fallen into a whirlpool of conspiracy.

He had a hunch that Silverblade Castle might have been looted by the 'Omenwolf Wolves', but fortunately, considering that the full moon was approaching and the people of the Misty Mountains were moving frequently, the family had already been sent to Ryan's warm manor for a vacation, otherwise he really couldn't imagine what the consequences would be.

After all, as a man, how can he not be there in time for his family to be there to defend them from dangerous injuries when his family needs him the most?

"Maybe little Emily is learning etiquette at the moment, and I don't know if she can stand Ryan's mean aristocratic ladies and ladies. Thinking of the youngest and most mischievous daughter of the children, a rare smile appeared on the count's majestic face, but it immediately retracted.

His family is safe for now, yes, but what about the soldiers and knights who follow him?

One after another familiar companions were buried under this white snow, but now even their families are also...

The Earl really couldn't imagine that once the situation in Silverblade Castle was as corrupt as expected, would these soldiers choose to continue to obey his orders or abandon their lords without hesitation, and perform one feat after another?

Even he could guess the result, the Omenwolf only needed to set an ambush trap around the castle, and it didn't take much effort to easily wipe out his army.

At that time, including Ircutrin, the Ravensians living in this area will not be spared, and this is another large-scale invasion by the Misty Mountain after the defeat of Ryan in 199!

Perhaps the long peace has made the Raventerians forget what great sorrow those damned barbarians have brought to the land...

But the Earl, whose family blood was almost severed in that battle, did not forget, which is why he quickly came to inquire after hearing the news of Lane Town.

After all, his family and the people of the Misty Mountains have been killing each other for hundreds of years, and the hatred has long been deeply rooted in the bone marrow and inherited in the bloodline.

But apparently, this time the count failed!

If all predictions come true, then this will be the second time in history that Silverblade Castle has fallen, and the second time it has fallen into the hands of the Misty Mountain people!

It's a shame!

As the head of this generation, he will be written back into the family biography so that future generations will remember that the castle of the silver blade was lost in the hands of Carolus!

No matter how famous he is for his loyalty and bad politics, it is not difficult for the Earl to understand that someone must pay for this conspiracy!

He clenched his fists tightly...

"My lord! Your Excellency!" a squire panted up the tower, exhausted by the long spiral staircase.

"What's the matter?" the Count came back to his senses, looked at his sweat-soaked lining, and reprimanded him with some dissatisfaction: "What do you look like in a panic!"

"My lord!" the attendant was trembling by the cold wind howling from above, and took a deep breath and said, "Lord Lance is awake!"

"Oh?"

The Earl was a little overjoyed when he heard this, and was about to rush to visit.

"Woo~!"

The sound of trumpets from the city walls made him stop and turn his head to look.

A ranger rode out of the forest.

"Fortunately, there is news at last!" a relieved smile appeared on the earl's face, and he laughed and kicked the squire, "Why don't you hurry down and change your clothes, and want to feel the trouble of the disease?"

"Yes, sir!"

The two of them walked down the stairs laughing, and it seemed that the count seemed to be in a good mood?

......

"Tap, tap, tap..."

The horseshoe splashed snowflakes and smashed against the icy frozen ground with a rhythmic muffled sound.

As one of the few remaining Rangers in the Ilketring Ranger Brigade, Oliver felt that his good fortune might have run out.

"Damn Martin! that deck must have done something!" he scolded, spitting.

Unlike his brothers, who gave him envious glances before leaving, his instincts told him that although the mission required only a brief investigation of the situation in Silverblade Castle, it did not seem to be a good errand.

Even if Martin made a promise that if he returned from his mission, he would introduce him to Lord Reims and volunteer as a guarantor, asking him to be canonized as a Templar.

But who Oliver was, he was one of those who had openly questioned Master Lance and had a cordial and friendly exchange with Martin and Jacob.

Why did such a good thing happen to fall on one's head? Just by virtue of one's luck of losing nine out of ten bets, he was able to draw the only trump card?

He kept his head down and pressed his body against the horse's back as much as he could, even though he had already rushed out of the forest, Oliver tried not to keep his horse too fast, so as not to relive the tragedy of his squad leader, who could have avoided the spear-throwing ones if it weren't for the horse's slippery hooves.

It's like an arrow coming from behind at the moment.

As it turned out, the situation at Silverblade Castle was far worse than he had predicted, and it was simply terrible!

The process of the task was very simple, the surrounding looted villages and the rows of male heads hanging from the battlements of the castle had already told him the answer he wanted, and he didn't even need to enter the city gates, just a glance from a distance.

The hard thing is how to escape!

Oliver saw with his own eyes groups of Misty Mountain barbarians, laughing and laughing loudly, arranged in a chaotic formation, led by a barbarian wearing a horned helmet, riding a white horse, and bare on his upper body in the snowstorm with a strange dark red symbol, rushing in the direction of Ryan.

Then the surviving women of the castle were driven together, tied with ropes, and marched in a row through the gates, whipped by the remaining barbarians of the Misty Mountains, crying out in the direction of the Krens Mountains.

Among them were commoners, maids, and even ladies and ladies of the nobility, and from the messy and disheveled costumes he could easily tell who each of these women was and what had happened to them.

Swear in the glory of the Ranger that he could observe much more if not to be discovered!

"Those damn wolves!" Oliver scolded fiercely.

Ikketring Castle is just around the corner!

The wind blew through my ears, and swept the cloak like a hunt, and it was a good way to block the incoming arrows.

"Whoosh!"

He reflexively drew his bow and shot down several white figures chasing them out of the forest.

If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, Oliver couldn't believe that those Misty Mountain barbarians could drive the wolves!

He reached out and reached for the quiver again, the feeling of emptiness and the howl coming from behind him made his heart tighten.

The arrows have been shot out!

Several sharp arrows struck again from the forest, piercing the resistance of the cloak and pinning it to his armor.

This means that the pursuers are getting closer and closer!

More than a dozen barbarians from the Misty Mountains rode captured war horses, with primitive whistles coming from their mouths, and they were rushing towards with a roar.

To tell the truth, Oliver didn't pay attention to their rusty equestrianism and archery, but the snow wolves that rushed like lightning made a trace of despair pass his eyes.

Obviously, the drawbridge of the castle has been lowered, but the distance that was originally close at hand seems so unattainable at this moment.

"Ahh

He let out an unwilling roar, pulled out the arrow feather stuck in his back with his backhand, and the war horse under his crotch unexpectedly let out a roar, and was thrown to the ground by the wolves.

"Whoosh!"

Oliver, who jumped up by inertia, bent his bow and arrow, and fell to the snow while shooting through the snow wolf's head with precision.

The wolves pounced so swiftly that he didn't even have time to pull out his two-handed greatsword behind his back, and before his throat could be torn open, Oliver saw the Count standing on the wall with a pale face, and slammed the railing.

"Enemy attack!"

He closed his eyes at the Count's roar...