Engagement Below

A familiar voice called out. Brandon turned to see one of his Guardian Knights decapitated, its head flying high.

The surrounding subordinates were gradually falling into a disadvantage, with one enemy Knight pressuring several of his own men.

Only now did he understand that the intelligence he thought he had gathered was all false, all fabricated messages released to mislead the nobles of Cadro Province.

At this moment, Velin seized the opportunity, channeling the last of his Battle Qi into his Knight Longsword and accelerating fiercely towards Brandon.

Several soldiers, seeing this, stepped in front of their stunned lord to block the attack, only to be cut in half at the waist.

The piercing screams jolted Brandon back to reality. He raised his sword and desperately tried to block.

His sword was knocked away, and his helmet fell to the ground. Brandon, kneeling on one knee, looked at the bloodied sword at his neck and slumped down in despair, saying with resignation, "You win."

Velin pulled down his visor and looked at the middle-aged Bronze High-Tier Knight, calmly stating, "Yes, I won."

The surrounding soldiers and Knights, seeing their lord defeated and captured, dropped their weapons and began to surrender.

Belder, wiping the sticky blood from his face, loudly commanded, "Collect the weapons and tie all these people up."

Seeing that the situation was under control, Velin sheathed his Knight Longsword and had Brandon tied up and taken away for strict confinement.

The battle had been swift, lasting only an hour.

That night, inside a tent, Velin, dressed in casual clothes, sat at the head of the table, looking at the seven participating Knights, each bearing injuries to varying degrees.

"My Lord, in this battle, we had thirty-seven killed and twelve severely wounded, with forty-one lightly wounded. Our casualties were heavy," Belder said with a wry smile, noting that a third of his men had been lost.

"What were the enemy's casualties?" Velin asked, his expression unreadable.

Another Knight stood up and began to report, "My Lord, preliminary estimates show the enemy suffered over four hundred casualties and captured five hundred and thirty-one, including Sir Brandon, nine Bronze Knights, and eighty-seven elite soldiers. The rest were Serfs."

"Take the Serfs back. Hand some over to the Half-elf Eunice to build the castle, and others to Mike, who is in charge of the farmlands, to tend to the crops," Velin paused here before continuing, "Release one soldier. Tell the current person in charge of the Barony of Cleveland that I will allow them to pay a ransom to redeem their lord."

"Yes, my Lord," the Knight replied, striking his chest in a salute.

After the meeting concluded, Velin walked out of the tent and went to the camp where the severely wounded were located.

Seeing the soldiers lying on the ground, pale and barely clinging to life, Velin's cold heart felt a pang.

He was not like those nobles who treated human lives as mere grass. He still retained a basic conscience, though he didn't know when it might be eroded. For now, he needed to do something.

"Go fetch a basin of clean water."

A soldier standing guard nearby bowed respectfully, then turned and ran off.

A moment later, a basin of water was brought over. Velin took out a crystal bottle containing a pale red liquid from his chest, crouched down, opened the stopper, and poured it into the basin.

"Give this water to the severely wounded."

"Yes, my Lord," the soldier replied quickly, his voice filled with excitement.

Velin observed the busy camp for a while before leaving.

Coincidentally, Belder, who was coming to check on the severely wounded, saw this scene. He didn't speak, just watched quietly.

"Perhaps choosing Young Master Velin was the wisest decision I've ever made."

"My Lord, the brothers' conditions have improved, their breathing has stabilized," a military doctor, who had some medical knowledge, excitedly reported to Belder.

"I know. There are still some Life Potions left from what my Lord gave you. Send them to the lightly wounded."

"Yes, my Lord."

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The next day, in the castle of the Barony of Cleveland, a young man's face showed disbelief as he heard the report from a soldier.

"How is that possible? Father brought over a thousand men. How could they be defeated by the enemy's hundred?"

"Young Master, Serfs have been returning one after another. This must be the true situation," the old butler advised from the side.

Sitting at the head of the table, the middle-aged noblewoman, whose hands trembled uncontrollably, forced a calm expression and said in a deep voice, "Old Burr, pass my order: the entire castle is to be on high alert. Summon back the other four Knights."

"Yes, Madam."

After the butler left, She turned to the soldier and continued to ask, "What are the enemy's demands to release my husband and the other Knights?"

"My Lady, the enemy did not state them explicitly. They only told me that negotiations would take place at the border on the morning of July 19th."

"You may go."

"Yes."

Two guards helped the injured soldier out of the hall, leaving only the middle-aged noblewoman and the young man.

The oil lamps flickered in the hall. Brandon's eldest son, Leobel, was very anxious. He looked at the middle-aged noblewoman and couldn't help but ask, "Mother, what should we do next?"

"For now, we must first ransom your father and the other Knights. Otherwise, with this vast territory of the Barony of Cleveland, we cannot defend it with just us."

Leobel looked confused after hearing this. "Mother, even if the surrounding lords covet it, according to the kingdom's laws, they..."

"Idiot, the danger comes from within the family."

The middle-aged noblewoman stared at her son, wondering how she had given birth to such a foolish child.

Afterward, she began to make preparations for the negotiation two days later, aiming to ransom back the main fighting force of the territory.

Meanwhile, due to the prisoners in the camp, the work of mining Mithril had to be temporarily halted.

Thanks to the Life Potions provided by Velin, the twelve soldiers with severe injuries were out of mortal danger and their strength had greatly improved, a fortunate turn of events.

Other lightly wounded soldiers received small amounts of diluted Life Potion, and their injuries also recovered significantly.

Inside a tent, Velin and Brandon sat opposite each other, playing a game of chess.

"Your strength is immense. Why did you come here to become a Pioneer Knight?" Brandon placed a chess piece and asked Velin.

"Perhaps it's for a dream, or perhaps I don't want to live an ordinary life."

Velin replied simply, placing his piece.

"Next, how much ransom do you intend to ask for?" Without his battlefield presence, Brandon at this moment was like an aging man in his twilight years.

Looking at this middle-aged man who was past fifty, Velin directly answered, "That will depend on your and your subordinates' status within the territory. I have plenty of time to spend with you."

"Hahaha, I doubt that," Brandon responded with a laugh, as if he could see through Velin's thoughts.

"Heh, who knows?"

Velin placed a piece, winning the game. He then stood up, tidied his clothes, and left the tent.

Watching the young man leave, and then thinking of his own useless eldest son, Brandon showed a wry smile.

Perhaps this was the reason the Ex Family had developed from a Barony family to a Count family within a mere seven hundred years.

Imprisoned here with nothing to do, Brandon began to recall his actions over the years. It had been a long time since he had sat so quietly and reflected on his life.

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