Franklin's Reaction

Franklin, within the Schmidt family's luxurious castle, exudes a languid and refined atmosphere, quite different from the tense and austere atmosphere of Carnford in the Northern Territory.

The morning sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow on the corridor covered with thick oriental carpets.

As usual Duke Schmidt awoke from his mistress's warm and soft embrace.

Attended by several personal servants, he completed his morning bath and changed into a comfortable and expensive velvet morning robe. He then strolled into his study, which was filled with ancient books and works of art, to begin dealing with the day's family affairs.

On the large mahogany desk, a stack of letters and documents awaiting processing were neatly arranged.

The Duke casually picked up the top serving, glanced at it, and immediately frowned in displeasure.

It was a poorly printed copy of the Kingdom Gazette, with a strong smell of ink.

"Hans!" The Duke's voice, tinged with obvious displeasure, summoned the old servant standing at the door. "Didn't I already order you not to bring me this nonsense anymore? It's all made up by those court jesters to fool the commoners and minor nobles from out of town—full of exaggerated boasts and clichés!"

The old servant, Hans, quickly bowed, a hint of fear on his face, and cautiously explained, "Your Duke, please calm down... This... this was specially ordered by the steward, Lord Sebastian. He said... he said you might... be interested in today's portion."

The Duke raised an eyebrow. Sebastian was his trusted steward, a shrewd and pragmatic man who never spoke without reason.

He hesitated for a moment, then waved for Hans to leave. "Alright, I understand."

He picked up the Kingdom Gazette again, his gaze falling on the large, eye-catching headline on the front page with a hint of suspicion and scrutiny:

"[The Great Northern Victory]"

"The main force of the Sauron Barbarians suffered a crushing defeat at Carnford, inflicting heavy losses and being routed!"

With a hint of curiosity, he continued reading.

The article uses extremely ornate and exaggerated language to describe in detail how the "brave and fearless kingdom army" was under the outstanding leadership of Lord Karl von Schmidt, the "Light of the Northern Border" and a "young and promising military genius".

At Carnford, the fortress that was the "cornerstone of the Northern Territory's restoration," they fought a bloody battle, outnumbered but outgunned, and ultimately dealt a heavy blow to the invincible Sauron Barbarians main force, achieving a "glorious milestone victory in the Kingdom's great journey to reclaim the Northern Territory!"

The article also highly praised Kellan and Sir Laurent of Fran City, but it spared no expense in praising Karl von Schmidt and bestowing upon him the most accolades and dazzling titles such as "Guardian of the Northern Border" and "Rising Star of the Kingdom."

Between the lines, it seems that Karl has become the number one hero and the hope of the Goldflower Kingdom in resisting the northern barbarians and expanding its territory.

Looking at these almost overflowing words of praise, Duke Schmidt's face did not show joy, but rather a strange expression appeared.

"Ha... The Light of the Northern Border? A military genius?" He couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head. "The court's scribes still love to flatter people."

He had already received a far more detailed, objective, and calm report on the true situation at Carnford several days earlier through Edgar's secret letter than this newspaper had.

He knew it was a fierce and lucky victory, that Karl had lost nearly half his troops, that Earl Rochefort's reinforcements, though timely, had not played a crucial role, and that the main force of the Sauron cavalry had not been truly annihilated, with even greater retaliation possible at any moment.

"However..." The Duke's smile slowly faded, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table, a shrewd calculation flashing in his eyes, "This compliment, it's certainly timed perfectly..."

His thoughts raced.

In addition to the battle report, Edgar's letter also mentioned another important piece of information.

There seems to be a close relationship between Karl and Earl Rochefort, the famous daughter of Charlotte Rochfort, and they may even have developed feelings for each other.

However, he was unaware that Karl had formally Marriage Proposal to the Count, a proposal that had been temporarily shelved, and Edgar was also unaware of this.

"Rochfort's daughter..." the Duke murmured to himself, his eyes gleaming with an ever-growing light.

Earl Rochefort, Governor of the Northern Territory, commands a large army and is one of the few powerful and independent regional governors in the kingdom who can truly stand alone.

If they could use Karl's unexpected connection to arrange a marriage with the Rochefort Family...

For the Schmidt Family, however, the meaning was entirely different.

This means that the Schmidt Family will not only be a wealthy and powerful traditional noble family based in the fertile plains of the interior, but will also be able to extend their influence directly to the distant and strategically important Northern Territory!

Through the alliance with Rochfort, the family's power and foundation will be consolidated and expanded like never before!

They even have the potential to gradually bring the entire Northern Territory under the Schmidt Family's sphere of influence, becoming the second power in the kingdom to rival the "Rear Party" led by the Eisenberg Family!

Thanks to Queen Katerina's status and her control of the Blackstone Pass military force, the Eisenberg Family has been extremely powerful in recent years, sometimes even disregarding the royal family.

Duke Schmidt had long been dissatisfied and wary of this.

If his mediocre son, Karl, could really marry the Count's beloved daughter...

"That's quite an unexpected and brilliant move..." A meaningful smile appeared on the Duke's lips.

He hadn't expected that so little time had passed since his family's support, and that Karl would bring him such a huge political surprise.

"It seems necessary to reassess this son..." he thought to himself. "If he can truly facilitate this marriage, the family will naturally support him wholeheartedly."

Meanwhile, outside Franklin Castle, in an inconspicuous little stone house next to a birch forest.

Karl's mother, Lady Eileen, was also holding a copy of the Kingdom Gazette, which had been carefully delivered through multiple channels.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she greedily read through the incredible praise for her son, over and over again.

Sunlight streamed through the small window, illuminating her face, which, though no longer young, remained gentle, and her eyes, now brimming with tears of emotion.

"My Karl ...my child..." she murmured softly, her voice choked with emotion.

The newspapers were filled with flowery language: "Light of the Northern Border," "Kingdom Hero," "Military Genius"...

These dazzling halos overlapped with the image of the little boy in her memory who always quietly followed behind her, with clear yet slightly melancholic eyes, making her feel a wave of unreal dizziness and immense pride.

That was her son! The son she had protected with all her might, growing up carefully under the indifferent gaze of her family!

More than a decade ago, he was still babbling in her arms, and would show a pure smile because of a wildflower or a butterfly.

Now... now he is in the distant, cold Northern Territory, commanding armies, fighting a bloody battle against the fearsome barbarians, defending the kingdom, and winning such great honor...

As a mother, her pride was almost overflowing.

However, along with the sense of pride came a deeper sense of anxiety and fear.

She knew better than anyone the cruel reality behind the glory.

Newspapers only report on glorious victories, but never describe the bloodshed and brutality of the battlefield.

Edgar's occasional short letters to her, reassuring her that he was safe, were always vague, but she could sense the harshness of the Northern Territory environment and the ever-present danger between the lines.

"A great victory...so many Sauron died...how could they let this go?" She gripped the newspaper tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force, her heart clenching. "Next time...next time they will definitely send more troops, a more ferocious revenge... Karl ...he only has so many men, such a small castle...can he really hold out?"

The joy of victory was fleeting, quickly overwhelmed by the mother's endless worry for her son's safety.

She could almost see the darker, more intense shadows of war gathering on the northern horizon.

She put down the newspaper, sat back down in her chair, clasped her hands together tightly in front of her chest, closed her eyes, and began to pray silently and devoutly for her son, who was far away in the Northern Territory, bearing immense honor and danger.

We pray for his safety, for another miracle, and for this seemingly glorious victory not to become the prelude to an ultimate tragedy.