You Are Precious to Me

Karl poured all the powder into his water flask and shook it vigorously several times. The clear water inside immediately turned somewhat cloudy and gave off a stronger, fragrant scent.

He supported the back of the dying soldier's helplessly drooping head, brought the flask's mouth to his cracked lips, and said softly, "Drink it, brother. Hold on."

The soldier seemed to feel a faint instinct for survival. His throat worked with difficulty, and he barely managed to swallow a few mouthfuls of the powder-laced liquid.

A miracle happened!

Almost the instant the medicine entered his stomach, a trace of color visibly returned to the soldier's ashen face!

His weak, nearly stopped breathing suddenly grew heavy! Even more astonishingly, the muscles around the edges of the terrible wound on his shoulder began to twitch slightly. The bleeding stopped completely, and tiny buds of flesh even seemed to be trying to heal!

Though the wound had not healed instantly to such an exaggerated degree, anyone could see that the soldier had been forcibly dragged back from death's edge!

He had gone from dying to severely wounded, but at least he had survived!

"Goddess's mercy..." the military doctor muttered beside them, staring in disbelief.

Knight Brendan's face was full of shock. He looked at Karl, his voice even changing pitch. "My lord... this, this is a healing potion? Such a potent medicine..."

Karl handed the flask to the military doctor, signaling him to keep feeding the soldier some water. Then he stood and calmly replied as he put his Chain Mail back on, "More precisely, it is powder ground from Greater Healing Potion crystals. Its effects are a little slower than liquid potion, but it is easier to preserve and carry."

This was one of the family's final trump cards for saving his life, incomparably precious.

Brendan opened his mouth, hesitated, and ultimately could not help saying in a low voice, "But... my lord, something so precious... used on an ordinary soldier, this..."

His meaning was obvious. The cost was too great. In the eyes of many nobles, an ordinary soldier's life was far less valuable than a bottle of Greater Healing Potion.

Karl finished putting on his armor and looked around.

Every soldier, whether his auxiliaries, the City Defense Army, or the surviving members of the transport convoy, stared at him without blinking, their eyes filled with disbelief and complicated emotions.

He took a deep breath, his voice carrying clearly to everyone's ears. "There are no buts. In my ranks, every warrior willing to fight for me and entrust his back to his comrades is priceless."

"As long as there is even a sliver of hope, as long as it is within my power, I will never abandon anyone! Because you are not expendable tools for my path to power. You are the most loyal foundation and most dependable brothers upon whom I will stand in the Northern Territory and rebuild our homeland! Your lives are precious too!"

His words rang like iron, echoing through the silent canyon.

In an instant, every soldier's breathing grew heavy! Their eyes widened as they looked at Karl, as though they were truly seeing this young lord for the first time.

Emotion, shock, loyalty, and the determination to serve him unto death burned in their eyes like blazing fire!

They were all born as Civilians, even serfs. They had never been valued so highly, never heard a noble lord say that their lives were "precious"!

Yet today, they had not only seen their lord take out an incomparably precious life-saving medicine to save an ordinary soldier, but had also heard this soul-stirring declaration with their own ears!

No one knew who was the first to drop to one knee. Then, like a rising tide, every soldier—including the City Defense Army brought by Richter—bowed deeply before Karl!

"Willing to die for my lord!" Brendan and Roland were the first to roar.

"Willing to die for my lord!" A deafening roar followed, filled with heartfelt fervor and loyalty!

After this battle, the rescue, and those words, Karl had completely won the hearts of this force!

Karl took a deep breath and was about to order the battlefield cleared before leading the troops back to Fran City to report.

At that moment, Barton, the transport convoy's captain, hurried over to Karl with a limp. His face was still pale from surviving the ordeal, and all his former arrogance and suspicion had vanished without a trace, replaced by utter reverence and pleading.

He bowed deeply to Karl, his tone almost begging. "Lord Karl! Please... please see this through and escort us all the way to Black Crow Outpost! I beg you! After what just happened, I... my men and I are terrified! If anything else shows up on the road... we absolutely won't be able to handle it!"

He had been completely convinced and scared out of his wits. He wished he could cling tightly to Karl, so how could he dare continue down the road on his own?

Karl looked at Barton, then at his troops, who had won but were equally exhausted and had wounded among them. Black Crow Outpost was much closer than returning, so they might as well go there first to rest for a day before heading back tomorrow.

After a brief moment of thought, Karl nodded. "Fine. We will escort you to Black Crow Outpost."

"Thank you! Thank you, my lord!" Barton thanked him profusely, nearly bursting into tears.

Karl turned and gave orders to the subordinates who now obeyed his every command. "Clear the battlefield. Gather the bodies of our fallen brothers. Bring the wounded and the spoils! Our destination is Black Crow Outpost. Move out!"

The force set out once more, but the atmosphere was completely different from before.

A force bound by the first stirrings of loyalty and conviction was advancing deeper into the north.

Encouraged by victory and inspired by their lord's words, "Your lives are precious too," the force moved faster than it had on the way there. Though they carried wounded men and the bodies of the dead, morale was exceptionally high.

At three in the afternoon, a full two hours ahead of schedule, the force arrived at the destination of this journey—Black Crow Outpost.

The outpost had been built atop a slightly elevated hill, its walls constructed from thick logs and stone. The flags of the Goldflower Kingdom and the Black Crow Banner representing the Northern Border Province flew fiercely in the cold north wind.

Several sentries spotted the sizable force approaching from afar and immediately raised the alarm.

When Karl led the mixed force escorting the transport convoy to the outpost gate, the outpost's Guard Captain was already waiting at the entrance with a squad of soldiers as though facing a great enemy.

They were all stunned by the sight of the force.

Nearly seventy soldiers in mismatched equipment, bearing obvious traces of a bloody battle; five supply wagons; wounded men on stretchers and covered bodies; and the headless corpse of a horse, smashed beyond recognition by a huge boulder, lying on a flatbed cart.

"This... Barton? What happened? You were only delivering a batch of supplies. How did it turn into such a huge affair? And... people died?" The Guard Captain knew Barton and asked uncertainly in shock.

An ordinary transport mission would never require such a grand mobilization, much less produce such a grim scene.

Barton let out a lingering, fearful sigh and hurried forward to explain. "Old Jack, don't even mention it! We almost all died in Riftstone Canyon! A full seventy or eighty kobolds had set an Ambush, blocking the road with falling rocks and attacking us from both sides! If Lord Karl had not led his troops to rescue us in time, we would have become kobold dung long ago!"

He embellished the battle's events as he described them, especially emphasizing Karl's bravery and calm command.

The outpost guards listened until their faces turned pale. When they looked at Karl and the bloodstained yet sharp-eyed soldiers behind him, their gazes immediately filled with awe.

In the Northern Territory, strength and military achievements were always the hardest pass.