A New Comrade Arrives at the Lord's Hall
Thorsten was left in Carnford as a hostage and a representative of the future reorganized forces.
Several of his cavalrymen, carrying his cavalry saber—a symbol of his command—sat away from the mountain pass and returned to their temporary camp on the Southwest Peninsula to deliver the surrender order and lead the main force.
Before they departed, Karl casually walked up to Thorsten and whispered, "Commander Thorsten, there's one more small matter I'd like to trouble your men to handle on the way."
Thorsten paused for a moment, then immediately replied respectfully, "Please speak, sir."
Karl lowered his voice, so only the two of them could hear. "Have them... get rid of Cyril von Eichberg for me, cleanly and efficiently, leaving no trace of us in Carnford."
Upon hearing this, Thorsten's pupils contracted sharply, and an expression of disbelief and astonishment flashed across his face.
He never expected that this young Broomflower Lord would issue such a ruthless order to silence another Broomflower nobleman.
Karl didn't explain further, but gave him a meaningful look before turning and walking away.
Thorsten stood rooted to the spot, his heart churning with a storm of emotions.
He immediately understood that the infighting and cruelty among these seemingly all-kingdom Broomflower nobles was no less than the struggles between the various clans of the Sauron Tribe!
This Lord Karl was not as gentle and law-abiding as he appeared on the surface; when it came to ruthlessness, he would not hesitate.
He quickly suppressed his shock, beckoned to one of his most trusted and astute subordinates, and whispered urgently in Sauron to give instructions on the secret mission, emphasizing that it must be handled cleanly.
A knowing and cold glint flashed in the subordinate's eyes. He nodded, asked no further questions, mounted his horse, and followed the messenger.
In fact, Cyril's existence was no longer of any importance to Karl; that good-for-nothing nobleman was completely useless.
Karl was not a bloodthirsty man, but he knew all too well that old nobles like Cyril, who were narrow-minded, ambitious but incompetent, and full of resentment towards him, were like a malignant tumor buried beside him.
If you save him, he won't be grateful; if you use him, he'll only cause trouble and might even turn against you; if you kill him, he is, after all, a nobleman, and killing a nobleman might become a stain on his record in the future.
Rather than risk being stabbed in the back by him in the future, or being used as a pawn by his pitiful forces for other rivals, it's better to seize this opportunity and, with the help of the Sauron, completely eradicate this insignificant but potentially troublesome threat.
It's both efficient and clean, without having to bear the infamy of harming colleagues.
After dealing with this "minor matter," Karl said to Thorsten, whose expression was complicated, "Let's go, Thorsten. Our people are waiting in the Lord's Hall. Go and get to know them; you'll be working together from now on."
Thorsten nodded silently, following Karl with a heavy heart as they walked towards the castle on the mountain.
As they passed Lyon and his menacing cavalry, Lyon coldly waved his hand, and the cavalry neatly parted to the sides, making way for them.
Thorsten could feel the chilling hatred and undisguised hostility in every gaze directed at him.
He felt as if he were walking on a knife's edge, every step was like sitting on pins and needles, and his back was already soaked with cold sweat.
Finally, they crossed the heavy castle drawbridge, passed through the thick inner door, and arrived at the magnificent entrance to the main castle.
The guard pushed open the heavy oak door with a dull thud.
Thorsten followed Karl and stepped into the solemn and majestic Lord's Hall.
Inside the hall, on either side of the long table, sat all of Carnford's core officials.
Brendan, Richter, Roland, Edgar, Morr, and Miller, Rick, who had just arrived, were all already present.
When Karl and Thorsten walked in, everyone stood up at the same time, and all eyes were focused on Thorsten, this unfamiliar Sauron.
In those gazes, there was scrutiny, indifference, hidden anger, and also pure curiosity.
The atmosphere instantly became heavy and oppressive.
Karl walked to the head of the table, pointed to the empty seat at the far right of the long table, and said to Thorsten, "Sit there, behind Mr. Hans."
Hans was the clerk in charge of the territory's finances and inventory registration.
Thorsten did as instructed and, like everyone else, stood straight and stiff, feeling out of place in his surroundings.
"Please sit down," Karl said, waving his hand as he took his seat at the head of the table.
Everyone then sat down, but their gazes still lingered on Thorsten, albeit subtly.
Karl looked around at everyone and said bluntly, "Gentlemen, as you all know, this is Commander Thorsten. He and his troops have decided to accept our terms and surrender to Carnford. Their main force will arrive soon."
He paused, then turned his gaze to Old Morrell: "Mr. Morr, plan an area that can accommodate at least five hundred people temporarily. The conditions can be simple, but it must provide shelter from the wind and rain. In addition, prepare the corresponding food and water rations in advance. These are the basic conditions I have agreed to for them."
Morr nodded expressionlessly, took out his notebook and charcoal pencil, and began to take notes without asking any further questions, "Yes, sir, I will designate a quarantine zone in the southwest corner, close to the water source but far away from the main workshops and granaries."
Just then, the hall door was pushed open again, and Lyon, still in his military uniform, strode in.
He had clearly just finished arranging for the cavalry to return to camp; the metal soles of his boots struck the stone slabs with a crisp sound.
He first gave Karl a standard military salute, then his cold gaze swept over Thorsten, who was sitting at the end of the table, before he walked to his own seat and sat down to Brendan's left.
Thorsten felt his gaze and instinctively shrank back, turning his eyes to the table, avoiding eye contact.
Karl continued his instructions, "Mr. Edgar, you are responsible for arranging the surrender ceremony. It doesn't need to be overly complicated, but the necessary procedures must be followed. It must be formal and solemn, so that everyone understands what this means, and it must be done as soon as possible."
"Understood, sir," Edgar replied calmly. "I will draft a brief procedure to ensure it is solemn and efficient."
Thorsten's lips twitched slightly when he heard "surrender ceremony" instead of "alliance ceremony," but he felt a sense of relief.
Although Lord Karl is powerful, he seems to be a man of his word, and the things he promised are being implemented one by one.
This straightforwardness and efficiency made him feel more at ease than insincere pleasantries.
Finally, Karl's gaze sharpened as he looked at his Military Chief: "Brendan, Richter, Roland, Miller, Rick!"
"Here!" The people who were called immediately straightened up.
"Immediately select a group of men from your respective units. You don't need the most experienced veterans; prioritize quick-witted, loyal, reliable, and reputable non-commissioned officers or outstanding recruits with leadership potential. I need at least ten. Get them ready immediately," Karl ordered.
"My lord, what is the purpose of transferring these people?" Brendan asked cautiously.
"They will serve as squad and Platoon Leader in the newly reorganized ' Foreign Legion First Company '," Karl said firmly. "I want to ensure that every link in this unit is firmly in our own hands. The men you have transferred will be under Richter's direct command from this day forward, responsible for reorganization and monitoring."
"Yes, sir!" The men answered in unison, their eyes showing understanding and seriousness. They knew that this was a crucial step in controlling the surrendered army.
Karl finally looked at Thorsten, his tone calm yet carrying an invisible pressure. "Thorsten, once your troops arrive, immediately cooperate with Mr. Edgar to hand over and inventory the weapons and horses, then cooperate with Knight Brendan to complete the reorganization. I hope you will behave well and not disappoint me, and even more so, not... disappoint everyone present."
Thorsten quickly rose, bowed deeply, and said in somewhat stiff Broomflower language, "As you command, my Lord, we... will not let you down."
After the meeting, everyone accepted their tasks and went about their work.
Thorsten stood alone in the gradually emptying hall, watching the departing figures, still wary of him, his heart filled with confusion and unease about the future, as well as a faint hope of escaping his predicament.
He knew that the real test was only just beginning.