Under the mediation of Earl White, Count Hoffmann-West, on the surface, reluctantly forgave Father Maximu's previous rude behavior. Although he had a grudge, he also knew that Maximinu was very valued by Bishop Steve.

Recently.

Just as he was about to leave for the town of Manchester to personally preside over the hanging of the lowly minor, one of his attendants hurried to report.

"My lord, the Earl of White sent a message that the prisoner, Marilyn, had been rescued the night before. ”

Old Hoffman was furious and slammed his fist on the desk in anger: "What?"

Bang!

The saucer on the desk was slammed.

The attendant hurriedly lowered his head, not daring to make a sound.

Hoffman twisted his head, gurgling, and his face trembled. He cut his hands behind his back and walked up and down the room angrily.

Da-da, da-da.

On the smooth marble floor, the sound of restless footsteps sounded.

After a long while, Hoffman, who was trying to control his emotions, calmed down a little. He stopped, his eyes cold: "Do you know who robbed the prison?"

"The guards were stunned at once, and there was no definite information. Seeing the fierce light in the earl's eyes, the attendant grunted his throat and hurriedly said all the words: "If you can knock out all the guards without making a sound, your strength must be very strong, Earl White guessed that it was most likely the three assassins who did it." ”

Hoffman fell silent.

He is not stupid, he has already entrusted the Thieves Guild to inquire about the news, and knows the strength and origin of those three assassins.

He had wanted to inform the Inquisition, but because of the mobilization order, the clergy of the Church would leave with the army and the Holy See would be understaffed. In order to guarantee the absolute safety of His Holiness the Pope, the Holy See has begun to summon the members of the Inquisition to return.

It would have been nice if the three Assassins had been hiding in the Holy See's sphere of influence, but they would have already run to Falken, not to mention that the Turing Kingdom was just a small border country attached to the Holy See.

Thinking of this, Hoffman's brow furrowed more and more.

He had also gone to the Thieves' Guild to inquire about the reward for issuing the assassination mission, but the price offered by the Thieves' Guild scared him a lot--- and it took at least 30,000 gold coins to issue the mission of assassinating the mage. The remaining two will also cost about 10,000 gold coins.

Three people will need 50,000 gold coins, although Hoffman can get it, but this is his expenses for five or six years. The main reason for his abandonment was that it did not guarantee absolute success. The Thieves' Guild is only responsible for contacting the killer, and regardless of whether the killer is successful or not, a half-deposit is required in advance.

Hoffman inquired, and the only guarantee that the Thieves' Guild had was that within a year, the killer and the target would be dead. If the killer is still alive after this time, the Thieves' Guild will return the deposit.

His face was gloomy: "That pariah, do you have any family?"

The attendant thought for a moment: "I heard that there is a mother who depends on each other and has opened a grocery store in the town. Other than that, there are no other relatives. ”

Hoffman's expression became vicious and vicious: "If my daughter runs away, then hang her mother!"

"This ......"

The squire hesitated.

Hoffman, who was already in an irritable mood, immediately kicked him hard: "Are you deaf?

The squire was half frightened, afraid that he would really be angry with him, and he nodded busily: "Yes, yes." Yes, my lord!"

Another hard kick: "Why don't you go quickly?"

Seeing the furious glint in the earl's eyes, the squire did not even dare to reply, and he hurried out.

On the banks of the Lannau River, the three groups of men and horses that had been assembled were forming three phalanxes under the shouts of their respective lords, waiting for the review of the Grand Duke of Harrington.

Herrington, who was on horseback, quietly glanced at the military in front of him.

The ranks were barely neat, but with the exception of the knights and swordsmen, the rest of the soldiers looked listless. The tip of the spear was crooked, and the horse pouted a few hooves from time to time.

Only the flag-bearers of their respective lords held high the long banners with an excited expression.

Frowning, he examined the soldiers who were only wearing simple protection, and the duke's face became a little gloomy. Had it not been for Mittler's assurances that there was still an internal response in Fort Orleans, he would not have planned to launch this frivolous counteroffensive.

These country knights, who are so poor that they should change their careers to beg for food, can't even match their heavy armor!

Sensing the dissatisfaction in the duke's eyes, Mittler stepped forward: "Your Excellency. ”

Seeing his expression, the Duke raised his hand and motioned for him to speak later. He turned his head forward, glanced majestically, and then spoke, "All right, everyone. It's been hard work all the way, so let's take a break for the time being. ”

As soon as the order was given, the militiamen all sat down in a chaotic manner, like a hornet's nest pierced by a wooden pole, noisy and chaotic.

The lords knew that the scene was too humiliating, and they were cursing and swearing, trying to control the unsightly dissipation. Restrained by their efforts, the troops finally became somewhat presentable, and the soldiers began to sit quietly in circles, waiting for the squad leader to hand out food.

The irritable duke did not bother to take another look, but he grabbed his horse's belly and rode to the river not far away.

Mittler understood and immediately rode his horse to follow.

"Lil. ”

The two of them held the reins at the riverside.

"Well, tell me what's going on in your head, Mitler. The Duke frowned and glared coldly at the former head of the Knights of the Wind: "If the answer is not satisfactory to me......"

With a calm smile on his face, Mittler stretched out his horsewhip and pointed at the scattered pile of soldiers: "Even if we have an internal response in the city, do you think these private soldiers can help us take Fort Orleans?"

The wrinkles on the duke's face became more and more obvious: "What the hell do you want to say?"

"Please be angry, my lord. Mitler was not in a hurry, he calmly analyzed the duke: "As far as I know, Auckland directly launched a mutiny, so his troops basically did not suffer any casualties. On the Knights of the Wind, we were caught off guard by the sneak attack of that guy in Lardo. ”

He raised his whip again and pointed at the soldiers in the distance: "Although we have nearly 700 people here, if we really have to face Auckland and Lardo, the odds are not good at all. It's good if you can lure them out for a decisive battle, but if you just forcibly attack the city, you will definitely kill yourself. I don't think Auckland and Lardo would be so mindless and take the initiative to fight us. ”

"We can only go to Turing now. Sensing that the Duke was on the verge of rage, he hurriedly continued: "Those soldiers, if you bring Turing, what leverage can you add to your lordship? ”

Although he knew that these were all facts, where could Herrington, who was poked in the sore spot, endure such rudeness from his subordinates. Forcibly holding back the emotions that he wanted to explode, his brows tightened into a twist, and he whispered impatiently: "Tell the point!"

"According to my information, Lardo has my knights in the camp. Mitler quickened his speech and immediately spoke his thoughts: "Do you think it is worth it to use these soldiers' feints in exchange for the opportunity for us to rescue them?"

The duke pondered for a while, and his face became slightly soothed: "How many knights are imprisoned there?"

"About thirty people. Add in the fact that we escaped, and that's almost sixty knights. Sensing that the duke was a little moved, Mittler immediately struck while the iron was hot: "Sixty heavily armed knights with strict training, and those private soldiers who can be recruited for only a fee, which one would you like to choose?"

Herrington snorted, "So what are you going to do?"

"It's very simple, my lord, you lead a large army to force them to defend to the death, and from time to time there is some news that there is an internal response in the city, I guarantee that they will definitely mobilize all the troops to defend the city. At that time, I led the knights to take the opportunity to sneak up on the camp outside the city. With these sixty loyal knights, wouldn't it be better for you to go to Turing again than to take these useless private soldiers with you?"

After pondering for a while, the duke made a decision: "Then do as you say!"

By the time he rode back, Helrington's complexion had soothed considerably. After pondering his words again, Herington summoned the three loyal lords and consulted with them about the attack.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you must know in your hearts that our troops alone will not be enough to take Fort Orleans. ”

The three lords bowed their heads silently.

"Mackentoe, I remember that you started from my humble beginnings and worked your way up to the Viscount. The Duke patted him lightly on the shoulder, and then looked around at the other two: "You too, know that the odds of winning this time are very small, but you have decided to continue to follow me without hesitation." ”

His eyelids drooped, and a gloomy and sentimental expression appeared on his face: "I, Herrington, will remember you." ”

"Don't say it, my lord. Viscount Macentore, who was nearly fifty years old, straightened up a somewhat rickety figure, and his expression was extremely serious: "The two armies are fighting, and it is not a good sign to say these depressing words. ”

"Haha. Hairington laughed and hugged McKentoe hard, "You're still like that, Mackentoe." He let go of his hand, and his expression became serious: "I discussed with Mittler just now, we pretended to attack the city head-on, and he led the knight troops to cooperate with Neiying to sneak attack from the back door. ”

He paused, "Would you like to help me get the full attention of the enemy?"

The three of them straightened their backs: "Your order is our glory!"

Mittler, in the distance, looked coldly at the three fools who were about to be sold. A subtle smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but it quickly dissipated beneath the semblance of loyalty.