Not Fighting Alone
Karl's gaze finally fell entirely on the tall figure lying on the ground. The man was covered in blood, his plate armor riddled with dents and tears, especially where he had been hit by lead bullets, where blood was still slowly seeping out.
His sharply defined face was covered in blood and dust, but some familiar outlines could still be vaguely discerned... However, the powerful aura of Battle Qi that emanated from his body even when he was seriously injured and unconscious, which was terrifying, and the aura of a seasoned veteran with an imposing presence between his brows, all made Karl feel a sense of unfamiliarity and doubt.
The original owner's memories were somewhat hazy; he truly did not recall knowing such an imposing and powerful knight.
"And who is this...?" Karl asked hesitantly, looking at Konrad with a questioning gaze.
Konrad looked at Karl's innocent and confused expression, sighed softly with a hint of relief, and said in a slightly teasing tone, "Karl, your memory... you don't even recognize your own older brother?"
Big brother?
Karl was taken aback by what he heard. He lowered his head again and stared intently at that pale yet resolute face. The original owner's long-buried memories surged into his mind like a tide.
In his childhood, there was that tall figure with a stern face who would secretly teach him swordsmanship; in his youth, there was that eldest brother who carried the family's hopes, traveled to the royal capital to join the Royal Capital order, and became the pride of the Schmidt Family... These images slowly overlapped with the weathered, frail, yet still indomitable face before him...
"You... you are... Friedrich?" Karl's voice was filled with disbelief and shock. The elder brother in his memory didn't seem... as tall and imposing as he was now, nor as dazzling as... a drawn sword.
Just then, Friedrich, who was lying on the ground, seemed to be awakened by their conversation. His thick eyelashes trembled a few times, and he slowly opened his eyes.
Those were sharp, deep eyes, like those of a hawk. Although they were filled with weakness and exhaustion from the injury, when he saw Karl squatting in front of him with a worried expression, his eyes instantly revealed an incredibly complex emotion: heartache, relief, a sense of weight lifted, and an indescribable pride.
"Yes... Karl." Friedrich's voice was unusually hoarse and dry, each word seemingly uttered with all his might, yet carrying an undeniable certainty.
He tried to force a reassuring smile for his brother, but the movement aggravated his abdominal wound, causing him to gasp slightly and furrow his brow. "It's... me... Friedrich."
He paused, staring greedily at Karl's face, as if trying to imprint his image deep into his heart, and explained haltingly, "I came from the Royal Capital... following the Sauron's trail... to Eagle's Nest Fortress... waited for several days... that coward Eisenberg... refused to send troops... I couldn't wait any longer... so I stole a horse... and came ahead..."
Friedrich took a few deep breaths, gathering his strength, and continued, his tone filled with undisguised admiration. "Karl... you've grown up... you did... better... than all of us imagined! Braver! If Father knew... how valiant you were... he would be incredibly proud of you!"
Listening to his elder brother's heartfelt words, even choked with emotion, and feeling his unreserved recognition and pride, Karl felt a surge of warmth and bittersweetness rush to his nose, and his eyes instantly reddened.
All his previous loneliness, grievances, and doubts about being abandoned vanished at that moment.
It turns out he wasn't fighting alone! The Count was doing his best to negotiate, and his elder brother was coming to his rescue in a near-suicidal manner!
A thousand words stuck in his throat. In the end, Karl simply knelt down, tightly grasped Friedrich's cold, rough hand, and repeated the simplest yet most sincere words in a choked voice:
"Thank you... my brother... thank you... for coming!"
Looking at his younger brother, who was struggling to suppress his emotions and whose eyes were red, Friedrich finally showed a genuine smile on his pale face, a smile that was both extremely tired and extremely gratified.
He gripped Karl's hand tightly in return, and the two brothers silently exchanged their gratitude for surviving the disaster and their deep-rooted kinship amidst the ruins and smoke.
Karl couldn't help but give his older brother a gentle hug. Friedrich's embrace was broad and warm, carrying the scent of blood and sweat, yet it gave Karl a long-lost, indescribable sense of security and affection.
"Cough cough..." Konrad, who was recuperating nearby, watched this scene of deep brotherly affection. A rare, teasing smile appeared on his pale face as he weakly interrupted, "Should I... prepare the wedding ceremony for you now? Or should we take care of... these bleeding wounds on your older brother's body first?"
Konrad's teasing made Karl and Friedrich somewhat embarrassed, and they separated from their embrace. Karl blushed and quickly checked Friedrich's injuries. Although the wounds from the musket shots had been simply bandaged, they were still bleeding, and the situation was not optimistic.
Konrad's smile faded, and his tone turned serious as he said to Karl, "Your brother is badly injured. He's lost too much blood, his Battle Qi is depleted, and there's even a lead bullet stuck in his body... We need to treat him immediately. Use all the best healing potions and hemostatic powder you have on hand! Stabilize his condition first!"
"Understood!" Karl nodded emphatically and immediately ordered Richter, "Quickly! Bring all the Militia Potion in stock! Prioritize treating Friedrich and the seriously wounded!"
Under Richter's command, the survivors prioritized supplying the few Militia Potion and hemostatic ointments they could find in the castle to Friedrich was the most seriously injured, and several other critically wounded soldiers.
As the effects of the medicine wore off, Friedrich's previously deathly pale face regained some color, and his breathing became much more stable. Although he was still unconscious, he was at least temporarily out of danger.
Seeing that his older brother's condition had stabilized, Karl finally felt a little relieved. A wave of exhaustion washed over him, but he forced himself to stay focused.
He turned to Konrad, who was sitting cross-legged to the side, silently adjusting his breathing to recover his mana, and asked the question that had been nagging at him, "Konrad, what exactly happened outside? Why did the Sauron suddenly collapse? Even if you, my brother... and I joined forces, it would be impossible for the three of us to defeat Harald's 100,000-strong army head-on, wouldn't it?"
Konrad slowly opened his eyes; his face was still pale, but his eyes had regained some of their sparkle.
He glanced at the direction from which sporadic sounds of fighting still drifted in from outside the window, and explained calmly, "It's not just us, it's Earl Rochefort; his reinforcements have arrived."