"Your Excellency, give the order!"

"Yes, sir, fuck those damned brutes!"

"Your Excellency...!"

The knights were very excited, and one by one they begged the Count with grief and indignation, and the fear of their families in their hearts had already made them abandon their minds, and they wanted to draw their swords now and destroy all the damned Misty Mountain people!

"Calm down!" cried the Count.

His majesty silenced the knights for a moment, and their expectant eyes were fixed on their trusted lord, waiting for him to lead his charge, as he usually did.

"I know you all want a big fight!" the Count paused, his eagle-like eyes scanning around and passing over familiar faces, "But there are more than five hundred enemies, and what about us?"

He counted them one by one: "Two Templar Knights, seven Honorary Knights, four Rangers, plus me and Lord Lance, there are only fifteen people!"

"So what!" said a knight, puffing out his chest.

The count's expression could not help but be stunned, this sentence was his own motto, and the knight mentioned it at this moment, obviously to remind him that he should not say such frustrating words to his mother-in-law, and fear was never a reason to prevent a knight from charging.

"But that means some of you will die today, or all of you!" the Count retorted, turning his head to look at Lance.

If this war of fifteen against five hundred can be won, then the magic that Lance controls is the key. Only if he is willing to make a move can he see the dawn of victory.

"I'm sorry, Carolus. Facing the deep meaning in the earl's eyes, Lance shook his head and said he didn't agree, and he persuaded the group of knights who were eager to fight: "I think the rational arrangement should be to rush back to Ilkettrin first, and after the army is assembled, then find a way to defeat this group of misty mountain barbarians and rescue the prisoners..."

"Fuck sanity!" someone erupted.

Thinking that his newlywed Yan'er's wife was very likely to fall into the hands of a barbarian, perhaps she had become a tool for her to vent her desires, this knight's lungs were about to explode.

Their dignity is being trampled on, and their glory is being disgraced!

Reason?

He spat on the ground fiercely, and the respect and yearning for the Templars in his heart was thrown to some corner.

"Your Excellency, lead us in the charge!" the knight drew his sword and knelt before the Count, in the same posture as when he was knighted.

"Uhh

With the sound of the sword coming out of its sheath, the rest of the knights knelt down as well.

"You..."

This is the most solemn request ceremony of the vassals, which means that once they choose to refuse, they will completely lose the allegiance of this group of honorary knights, and the oath they have made will naturally be invalidated, and they can follow their free will instead of obeying the orders of the lord.

Accept or reject?

Fight a winless encounter, kill a few unlucky enemies, and then everyone will die here again, staring at the unwilling to close their eyes, watching the Misty Mountain people laugh wildly and proudly, and molesting the woman who belongs to them in front of their own corpse?

The Count looked at Lance again in silence, but the latter shook his head silently, and once again refused his irrational request.

After all, divine grace is always limited, and he doesn't have the confidence to defeat an army of nearly 500 people with a dozen people, even if Nidaya himself comes to do it, but what is the price? In the last battle to rescue the Count, he only used magic twice, and it took him a few days and nights to barely recover, but this time, there were about 500 people, and how many times did he have to use magic to kill them all?

Besides, there was a better and more rational choice, so why should he fight hard? He didn't have a good woman fall into the hands of those barbarians, and who knew if his body could hold it up, and what would be the consequences of frequent use of magic?

"Your Excellency!" the knights urged in unison.

Their unifying behavior made the Count have no choice but to persuade him earnestly: "Don't be blinded by hatred, why bother to fight for the sake of the safety of the captives, I agree with Lord Lance, perhaps we should be rational and think about how..."

His voice grew quieter and quieter, and he finally had to pause under the gaze of the knights. The disappointment contained in those eyes of different colors seemed to stab him with a thousand holes and lose all his glory. The Count lowered his head, reluctant to look them in the eye for a moment.

"Your Excellency. A knight called calmly.

"We know that the enemy is more than 500 people, and we must be outnumbered," he said, and his low tone trembled as he spoke, and suddenly he raised his voice and cried out hoarsely, "but we can't stand it! We can't stand the weak standing by while they endure atrocities, and we can't stand the absence of their families when they need it most..."

Words full of sincere emotion plunged into the count's chest like arrows, as if to ask if his blood was still hot and his heart was beating as usual.

Silent...

The knights waited silently for an answer, while the count's face was frosty.

"Your Excellency..."

A knight took off the badge he wore on his chest, kissed the carved side up, and placed it in the middle of the snow, the symbol of the Count's family, a roaring bear shouting for battle.

"I'm sorry, my lord, I can't follow you anymore...", the knight lowered his eyes, and his tone was full of tears, "There is no doubt that you are a powerful and majestic lord, but I think... It's time for me to fight for myself..."

After a respectful salute, he turned on his horse and headed in the direction the rangers had told him, and the rest of the knights untied their badges.

"Are you sure?" asked the Earl in a deep voice, trying to keep it, but his majesty lost its confidence.

The knights nodded wordlessly, and after saluting him respectfully, they turned away without hesitation, with the neighing of their horses and the hunting of their cloaks.

"Tap, tap, tap..."

The horseshoe struck the frozen ground covered in snow, splashing puffs of snow.

"Am I doing something wrong?"

Seeing that the knights would rather give up their oaths than stay away from themselves, the Count couldn't help but sigh and asked Lance in a low tone.

"No, as a lord, you don't. Lance comforted the frustrated Count and waved for the Templars and Rangers to follow, as they hurried back to Irkettrin to gather their army. After all, in any case, those captives are all subjects of the kingdom, and the lord's duty is clearly stipulated that he cannot die without salvation, otherwise when the dust of war settles, what awaits him will be the king's judgment.

Two choices were placed before the Count.

This made him stand in the middle of the road a little confused, looking at the two directions leading to different targets, hanging his head like a deflated ball, and even his originally tall and straight body became a little stiff.

"Come on, Carolus?" beckoned Lance on horseback, and at some point he dared to slowly begin to call the Count by his name.

Maybe it was from the moment he was appointed First Apostle by the god of Nidaya, or maybe it was the fact that Silverblade Castle had been fallen by the Misty Mountain people?

The Count thought to himself.

He was on the verge of nothing, fiefdoms, vassals, armies, glory...

It's as if everything is moving away from you.

And without these, an earl who is only left with a title can not be respected.

"Am I doing something wrong?"

He looked in the direction the knights were going, and then at the back of Lance, who was turning his head, and realized that he was standing alone, like a lonely loser.

"Carolus, I think we have to hurry up?" Seeing that the Count did not choose to follow, Lance had to rein in the reins of his horse, and urged with dissatisfaction: "If you don't want to save the madman who thinks about how to end his life and his child every day..."

“...！”

It was as if a thunderbolt was blowing in my head.

The Count suddenly realized what choice he would have made if it was his wife and daughter who had been taken away from him, and if he might have been humiliated and toyed with at all times?

"Fuck sanity!" the Count spat out, already understanding the answer he wanted, "There is nothing wrong with being a lord, but what about being a friend and brother?"

He smashed the breastplate hard!

"Lance!" replied the Count, in a resolute tone, "I must help them!"

"Are you crazy?" said Lance, looking at him in some surprise, as if puzzled and questioning, "You are the Count of the Kingdom, the Legion Commander!

"I'll have to help them!" repeated the Count.

"Hey, I don't understand what's wrong?" Lance turned his horse's head and said in a serious tone, "I know your hole cards are to ask for the help of the god of Nidaye, but using magic is not as simple as you think, remember that shaman? He died from his belief in Virgivis, the god of the Misty Mountain people! The cause of death was the use of magic to drain his life force! There are more than 500 people in the Misty Mountain people, and you want to die like that?"

"But I have to help them!" affirmed the Earl.

He didn't tell Lance about this—his silence wasn't out of fear of death in the first place, even though he had just experienced it in God's trials.

He just... It's getting a little less confident...

The Assassins of the Illusion had killed not only his body, but also his proud heart, but the motto of the House of Mormont had led the Count to reclaim it.

"We are the shields that defend the kingdom, and the spears soaked in the blood of the enemy!" he silently recited as he turned on his horse, his burly figure as tall as a fir tree.