"What are you doing?" Lancelot stopped a soldier who was laboriously carrying stones.
"We're repairing the city defenses to face the next demon tide." The soldier did not stop working, merely turning his head as he spoke. "Honored Knight Master."
"Who ordered you to do this? That foolish Master Bowler?" Lancelot asked curiously.
The most proactive people in fighting demon tides were always the local lords where the tides occurred.
If they failed to drive them back, they would lose their fiefs and become pitiable wretches, forced to go to the kingdom capital to beg relatives for sympathy and secure a position as court nobles, living each day as the subject of others' mockery.
It was said that the wives and daughters of many nobles who had lost their lands had entered the Backyards of High Nobles, middle nobles, and even minor nobles.
They had stepped on too many poor people; there was no longer any pleasure in it. Only stepping on those of their own class gave them a greater sense of superiority.
"He did give that order before, but that isn't why we're doing it." The soldier stacked the stones into a gap, even carefully finding soil to fill the cracks.
There was naturally no mortar. This was only a temporary patch, barely enough to fend off those smaller monsters.
"Then whose orders are you following?"
"Our own." The old soldier who had become a Card Player first said, "Hey, Knight, want to play a round of Gwent?"
"Sure. I'm the most famous expert in our Earl's territory," Lancelot said instinctively.
Then a surge of willpower stopped him from pulling out his cards.
What had he just said?
Why had he said that? Though he truly was skilled at cards, this was a battlefield! The demon tide could