Journey to the Royal Capital

Those who escaped the nightmare in Cecil Territory were fortunate, yet unfortunate.

Houses engulfed in flames, land corrupted by Elemental Power, terrifying giants striding out of the chaos mist, and the loved ones who died tragically beneath it all – everything clung to those who escaped like a nightmare. Even after reaching the safety of Tanzan Town, even with the protection of Knights and soldiers, fear never receded from the survivors' hearts for even a moment.

Because even among those clad in armor, very few had managed to sleep soundly these past few days.

Many resorted to alcohol to numb themselves. Those poor souls who couldn't even afford to get drunk could only suffer. Coupled with the fact that being a refugee in another lord's territory in this era would inevitably lead to a poor living environment, the situation only worsened.

Let alone maintaining order among the refugees, Knight Philip was already struggling just to keep the soldiers in line and ensure they reported their situations daily.

But fortunately, the Lord had returned safely, and brought with them an unexpectedly powerful pillar of support.

Outside Tanzan Town, Rebecca looked at the gathered vassals before her. They were ragged and gaunt. Although Viscount Andrew had provided basic accommodations and food distribution, the charity that nobles of this era offered to commoners was extremely limited. Allowing these people to not freeze or starve to death was already a testament to the Viscount's exceptional benevolence, far surpassing his peers. Rebecca couldn't ask for more.

For those who had fled Cecil Territory, the Lord's appearance was a sufficiently effective tonic.

Commoners in this era did not possess high levels of awareness or psychological fortitude. They didn't hold much loyalty to their lords. While Rebecca could be considered a benevolent and kind lord (mainly because the young girl wasn't very sharp and hadn't learned the cunning greed of her noble peers), she had only been in office for less than a year. Given the poor information flow, many vassals didn't even know what their lord looked like.

But the Lord's appearance was still an encouragement. For these unfortunate people who had been in a state of panic for days, it was enough that someone stood up and declared they would continue to protect them. They didn't care who their master was, nor what she looked like. Centuries of feudalism had stripped commoners of much of their ability to think, but it had also made them very easily satisfied. In Gawain's opinion, this was a form of cohesion based on ignorance and lack of knowledge – but it was indeed effective.

Only a small portion of people came to see them off. More remained in Tanzan Town, looking after property or working for food. Rebecca looked at them, wanting to say a few words, but unsure of what to say, she turned to Knight Philip. "These people will still depend on you for care, Knight. Before we return, try to ensure not a single one is lost."

"I swear it upon my oath!" Philip straightened his chest. "I will protect every citizen and every inch of property of the Cecil Family for you!"

"Don't forget what I told you to do," Gawain said. "Viscount Andrew will provide the necessary assistance. Just send out those who are nimble and sharp-witted – don't be stingy with money. What they need to do is far more valuable than money."

"Yes!" The young Knight replied loudly, but couldn't hide his confusion. As someone who lived in a secluded era and specialized in martial arts, he found it difficult to keep up with Gawain's thoughts. "But are those things really that important?"

"Of course, they are important," Gawain chuckled. "On a small scale, it's gossip. On a large scale, it's public opinion. Don't underestimate these intangible forces. Once everyone starts talking about the same thing, even the King will be restless."

After making some arrangements, Gawain and Rebecca boarded the carriage provided by Viscount Andrew. Accompanying them were Betty as the maid, the loyal Knight Byron, the formidable rogue Amber, and twelve family soldiers. These soldiers weren't handpicked; the total number of warriors who broke through with Knight Philip was only a little over a dozen, plus the two who escaped with Gawain and the others. In total, there were less than twenty. To muster twelve fully equipped soldiers under these circumstances could be considered the last vestige of the Cecil Family's dignity.

The mature and steady Heti was left behind to manage the situation here. However, "Aunt Heti" was clearly quite worried about her niece's upcoming journey to the royal capital. She stood below the carriage, grasping Rebecca's hand and giving her earnest advice: "Be sure to remember your identity, and don't disgrace the Cecil Family's name, but also don't clash with the nobles of the royal capital. Be respectful when meeting the King, and don't break the rules. Don't throw fireballs at people; the royal capital isn't like our countryside. If you encounter something you don't understand, don't rush to answer; consult with the Ancestor or Knight Byron, because every word you say will be scrutinized many times over. Most importantly, be sure to listen to the Ancestor, especially when dealing with nobles. You're not skilled in this area, but the Ancestor is a Grand Duke; he understands..."

Gawain listened to Heti's instructions, and his heart grew heavy, because he truly didn't understand...

Not only did he not understand, but the real Gawain Cecil also didn't understand. Ansu was still a bunch of commoners in power when that founding hero died. The court rules back then were basically centered around drinking contests and yelling back at the King in court. It was likely that things were different seven hundred years later...

But to avoid driving his already over-sensitive N-times great-granddaughter completely mad, he still placed his hand on Heti's shoulder and gave her a reassuring look. "Don't worry, I understand it all."

And so, amidst Heti's relieved smile, the carriage carrying Rebecca, who understood nothing, and Gawain, who appeared to understand everything, set off on the grand road to the royal capital.

At the same time, Knight Philip had also dispatched his men according to Gawain's arrangements before their departure.

These were resourceful individuals found among the vassals, as well as nimble and eloquent people hired locally in Tanzan Town. Among them were even a few ruffians and scoundrels who could be bought for a few copper coins. Dealing with them made the young Knight exceptionally uncomfortable, and the tasks he assigned them made the Knight feel even more bewildered. All they had to do was set out in all directions, heading to every place where people gathered, entering bars, black markets, and the stinking hovels of the slums, and then brag to the locals.

It would be even better if they could find passing troubadours to brag to.

And so, for a period of time, such scenes frequently occurred in the southern region: dust-covered strangers with strange accents appeared in various crowded places, speaking with mysterious yet confident expressions about nearly identical things:

"Hey, have you heard? Something's happened to the Cecil Family in the south! Their territory was destroyed by monsters and dragons! It's said that even the spirits of the underworld were disturbed, and the legendary ancestor of the Cecil Family rose from his coffin... You heard me right! It's that legendary Gawain Cecil, awakened from his eternal slumber! He must have come to eliminate those monsters...

"Hey! Why would I lie to you! Everyone in the south is talking about it. Just go ask around in Tanzan Town or Timber Town, and you'll know. And look at these clothes I'm wearing? I'm one of the escapees from the southernmost part. Let me tell you, I even saw the Cecil Family's ancestor revive with my own eyes!"

Almost everyone said the same thing, and they would all confidently assure that these bizarre things were witnessed by them personally – even if they weren't the ones Knight Philip originally sent out, the subsequent rumor-mongers would also say the same thing nine times out of ten.

If one person could gather all the rumors in one place, they would be astonished to find that at the time of the Cecil Family's ancestor's revival, at least a thousand people were standing in the tomb to witness it – and another ten thousand were gathered on the grave mound outside...

However, in this era, those capable of doing so would not pay attention to these rumors circulating among the common folk in the streets and alleys, and those who believed and spread these messages... they wouldn't think too much about it.

And in the carriage heading towards Saint Suniel City, Gawain was idly watching the scenery outside the window, contemplating how to face His Majesty the King, who sat high in the Silver Castle of Saint Suniel City.

He didn't know how effective the task he assigned to Knight Philip would be – in fact, he didn't even have 30% confidence in it. This was a contradictory and ignorant world. The existence of magic made many things exceptionally convenient, even to the point of exceeding the era's capabilities. However, magic and other supernatural powers were only held by a few. The people of this world had not – or rather, they did not think it necessary – to translate magic into broader productive forces. Therefore, in the lower strata of society, where power was scarce, everything was incredibly backward.

Communication relied on shouting, and travel relied on walking. Rumors could spread rapidly within a town because tavern gossip was arguably the only entertainment for commoners outside of their labor. However, it was ten times more difficult for news to travel from one city to another, as the desolate wilderness hindered most circulation. Furthermore, there were restrictions on the movement of people within their territories by local nobles. Without the lord's permission, commoners had to risk being hanged just to travel from their village to a neighboring lord's village to buy a chicken!

The joint pass signed by the Cecil Family and the Leslie Family (Viscount Andrew's family) could resolve the issue of personnel circulation control, but it couldn't solve the other difficulties.

But making some effort was better than doing nothing.

Gawain's goal was simple: to spread the news of the "Cecil Ancestor's Revival" as widely as possible. It couldn't just be a secret known within noble circles; it needed to become a hot topic among commoners and even the poor. If possible, it should even spread as a ghost story, a horror story – in fact, those rumors were indeed developing in that direction.

These messages would be processed repeatedly during their spread. The superstitious and ignorant medieval populace would add a lot of details according to their own understanding. Gawain didn't care about the specific content of these details – he just wanted these messages to ferment.

Then everyone would know that the ancestor of the Cecil Family had resurrected, and that the legendary founding Grand Duke had awakened when monsters attacked the kingdom