The Count's Trial

The grand city gates of Fran City slowly opened, and inside, Earl Rochefort was already waiting with a group of officials and guards.

He had already learned of the detailed battle report of Carnford's great victory through his messengers, but when he saw the triumphant army returning in person, the usually composed governor of the Northern Territory could not hide his satisfaction and excitement.

His gaze first swept over the troops under Kellan and Laurent's command.

The troops were in perfect uniform, their morale was high, and their armor was gleaming; there was almost no sign of casualties.

This greatly pleased the Count. These were his elite troops, whom he had painstakingly trained at great expense. Each one was a precious asset, and their safe return was the best news.

His gaze then fell upon the dozen or so large carts pulled by mules and horses in the middle of the procession.

The cart was piled high with the heads of Sauron, which had been simply treated with lime but still emitted a faint smell of blood.

The carriage behind carried the Sauron prisoners of war and the captured Soren Battle Group, Invag.

Even though he already knew from the battle reports that the spoils of war were plentiful, seeing so many corpses being transported back like spoils of war was still a shock.

The visual impact and the immense sense of glory it brought still made the Count's heart pound a few times, and a delighted smile involuntarily crept onto his lips.

Finally, his gaze searched the group and quickly settled on Karl and Charlotte at the back.

Seeing his daughter safe and sound, and even with a hint of the resilience that comes from the trials of war in her eyes, the Count finally felt a weight lifted from his heart.

But when his gaze fell upon Karl, it was filled with complex and indescribable admiration, inquiry, and a hint of barely perceptible emotion.

Karl had already noticed the Count's figure, surrounded by admirers, at the city gate.

He immediately and nimbly dismounted, and whispered to Charlotte, "Let's go see the Count."

The two quickly passed through the solemn military formation and came before the Count.

Karl saluted him, his voice clear. "Count Excellency! Lord Carnford, Karl von Schmidt, has come to report!"

Charlotte followed closely behind, her voice tinged with barely perceptible tension. "Father... Sir."

Earl Rochefort's gaze lingered on the two men for a moment. Ignoring his daughter, he stepped forward, reached out, and patted Karl heavily on the shoulder, unusually praising him. "Good! Well done, Karl! You defended Carnford, dealt a heavy blow to the Sauron Barbarians, and displayed the might of the Broomflower!"

He immediately instructed the scribe beside him, "Immediately count and properly dispose of these Sauron corpses! Not a single one should be missed; register them all! These are important proof of our war merits!"

After giving his instructions, the Count turned his gaze to Charlotte, his eyes softening considerably. He nodded slightly but said nothing more, simply gesturing to the two of them, "Come with me."

After saying that, he turned around and walked towards the Governor's Office.

Karl and Charlotte quickly followed, walking side by side behind the Count.

As Karl stepped into the familiar corridors of the Governor's Office, he suddenly felt a little dazed.

Months ago, also here, he first met Charlotte.

At that time, she was a noble female knight who was aloof and beautiful, seemingly untouched by worldly affairs, and whom no one dared to offend.

They walked side by side, but in opposite directions.

Now, times have changed. This once unattainable Count's daughter has not only become his comrade-in-arms, fighting alongside him through thick and thin, but is also about to become the wife he longs to spend his life with...

The strangeness of fate stirred up a complex mix of emotions within him.

Soon, the three of them entered the Count's imposing office once again.

The Count went straight to his large desk and sat down, with Karl and Charlotte standing opposite him.

The Count leaned back slightly, placed his hands on the table, and looked at Karl with a playful and scrutinizing smile.

"Alright, there are no outsiders here," the Count said. "I've read the battle report; it's written with great passion and fervor, but what you learn from books is never as profound as it seems..."

"Lord Karl, tell me the whole story of this 'Great Victory of Carnford,' especially... how you managed to carve out such a large chunk of Harald's heart with such a small force? I'm very interested."

Karl took a deep breath, knowing that the real test was about to begin.

He began his report clearly and systematically, starting with the initial reconnaissance operation.

"Reporting to you, sir, it all began after I Lyon Commander Lyon's reconnaissance team. Lyon assigned me to scout near Ashbourne, and during a routine patrol, I stumbled upon a large grazing camp of the Skarn people of the Sauron tribe in the Black Forest Valley..."

He described in detail the process of discovering the enemy's presence, launching a decisive surprise attack, defeating the defending troops, and capturing a large number of cattle and sheep.

When discussing Lyon's insatiable greed and his attempt to bring back the spoils, which slowed the march, he took the blame upon himself. "... The spoils were plentiful, but my men became greedy, believing these livestock were crucial for the territory's supplies, and insisted on transporting them back, thus delaying the retreat and nearly causing a disaster. Please punish me, sir."

Upon hearing this, the Count raised an eyebrow slightly, a knowing smile flashing in his eyes.

He clearly saw through Karl's attempt to exonerate Lyon, but he didn't call him out on it. Instead, he said meaningfully, "Oh? Being greedy and impulsive... that's not like the cautious and meticulous Karl I remember doing..."

Karl felt a slight chill, knowing that the Count was as clear-headed as a mirror, and continued speaking.

The text focuses on Lyon's decisive action in abandoning his cattle and sheep and turning to fight the enemy after discovering he was being pursued by the Sauron Cavalry, as well as his superb command skills.

"... Commander Lyon remained calm under pressure and commanded exceptionally well. He first cleverly used the frightened cattle and sheep to charge and slow down the Sauron Cavalry's momentum, disrupting their formation."

"Then, he positioned his only remaining heavy lancers at the forefront and launched a desperate counter-charge. After the first charge, although Commander Lyon himself was wounded in the abdomen and bleeding profusely, he still insisted on commanding, regrouping his troops and launching a second charge, completely shattering the Sauron ' will and scattering their main force into flight..."

"My subordinates then took over command, which allowed us to successfully bring the heavily wounded troops back to Carnford."

He then recounted how the Sauron sent out their elite cavalry and infantry for a retaliatory siege, and the brutality of the defense of Carnford.

In describing the final battle, he skillfully phrased. "... Just as our army and the Sauron Berserker were locked in a bloody stalemate at the breach in the defensive line, reinforcements led by Kellan and Sir Laurent arrived just in time. The morale of the Sauron army plummeted, and they ultimately retreated in panic... thus relieving the siege of Carnford."

After listening to Karl's account, the Count remained silent for a moment, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table.

Suddenly, he raised his eyes, his gaze sharpening as he looked at Karl, a half-smile playing on his lips, "Sounds like a fierce yet glorious victory... But Karl, you seem to have missed some details? Or rather... embellished some of the process?"

He leaned forward slightly, his tone carrying a knowing, mocking yet intimidating air. "As far as I know, by the time Kellan and Laurent's troops arrived at the battlefield, the main force of the Sauron infantry had already been nearly wiped out by your men, right? Their so-called 'timely arrival' was probably more about cleaning up the mess and chasing down the fleeing soldiers?"

"The credit for those four hundred Sauron... you actually handed it all over to them, didn't you?"

Karl was startled, and a cold sweat instantly broke out on his back.

He hadn't expected the Count's intelligence to be so accurate and his insight so sharp, seeing through the "tacit understanding" between him and the two knights in an instant.

He lowered his head, neither admitting nor denying, but simply remaining silent.

The Count's voice suddenly rose a few decibels, carrying a hint of coldness. "Karl von Schmidt, you should know very well what a crime it is in the army to falsely report battle achievements and deceive your superiors, right? Hmm?"

Charlotte, who was standing nearby, panicked upon hearing this. She clenched her fists and stepped forward, wanting to defend Karl: "Father! That's not true! Karl, he..."

Karl reached out and gently pressed her wrist, signaling her not to act rashly.

He kept his head down and remained silent; he understood the principle of standing firm even when being attacked.

The atmosphere in the office instantly became incredibly heavy and oppressive.

However, after a few seconds of this suffocating silence, the Count's icy expression suddenly melted away, replaced by a hearty laugh filled with extreme admiration and delight!

"Hahaha! Good! Very good! Karl, you did a great job!" The Count's laughter was loud and full of joy. He stood up, walked around the desk, went to Karl, and patted him on the shoulder again.

"Faced with such tremendous achievements and temptations, he did not claim all the credit for himself. Instead, he knew to share the spoils with the allied generals who came to 'support' him, using tangible benefits to forge alliances and solidify relationships."

"To be honest, before this, I saw you more as a brave and skilled general capable of creating miracles in dire situations, but now it seems..."

He paused, a glint of light flashing in his eyes, his tone becoming deep. "Your political acumen far surpasses what one would expect for someone your age and status should possess. I can only attribute this to the influence of your Duke father's bloodline; after all, Old Schmidt was a master of political maneuvering."

"It seems you share the same blood. You could try talking to your father about it sometime."

Seeing the Count's drastically different reactions, Karl breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that what had just happened was actually the Count's test and probing.

He quickly lowered his head humbly. "You flatter me, sir. I only feel that victory belongs to all those who participated in the war. The survival and development of Carnford cannot be separated from the support of Count Excellency and all your colleagues."

"Alright, enough with the formalities in front of me," the Count waved his hand, clearly in a very good mood. "Kellan and Laurent must be extremely grateful for this 'generous gift.' The favor they've done, and the power they represent, will be credited to you. This will be very helpful for your future development and for Carnford's future."