Edward

Stumbling out of the great hall, several guards approached from a distance.

Upon seeing Cadiz emerge from the hall covered in blood, they were greatly alarmed and quickly moved forward, their eyes carrying a hint of wariness.

Before they could reach him, several sword lights flashed around them, and several figures charged out simultaneously, instantly dispatching these guards.

They were several tall figures. Though all were dressed as guards, their auras were vastly different, appearing much more elite than the regular guards.

At the forefront of this group of guards stood a tall knight clad in full armor. Upon seeing Cadiz's injuries, he exclaimed in shock, "Lord Cadiz!"

"I'm fine."

Looking at the knight before him, Cadiz suppressed the intense pain and discomfort throughout his body and asked, "What's the situation now?"

"Everything is going smoothly!" Seeing Cadiz's condition, the knight quickly replied, "Most of the remaining knights in the castle have been bought over by us. You, my lord, held off Count Polia, and now the castle surroundings are in chaos."

Hearing this news, Cadiz nodded with satisfaction and then asked, "And Arcadia? Has he arrived?"

"Lord Arcadia has already brought his men into the castle secretly and is now leading his Black Knight Order in an attack, but he's being held back by the personal guard led by Flar," the knight replied rapidly.

"Flar..." Cadiz's gaze held a complex emotion.

As Flar's former subordinate, he had received much care from him, and their personal relationship had been good over the years. Now, however, they were on opposing sides.

As old friends of many years, Cadiz understood Flar's character deeply; he would never betray Count Polia to join them, so he had to be dealt with.

Rest in peace early... After you die, I will take care of your family.

He sighed softly, this thought flashing through his mind, followed by a cold expression on his face: "Tell me! Where is Edward?"

After today's events, Count Polia, the absolute ruler, was as good as dead. However, if Edward, the heir, were to escape, he would be a significant threat.

House Falkus had ruled the North for nearly a century, becoming deeply entrenched. A large number of nobles in the North were their supporters, and many of these nobles were even direct members of House Falkus. Arthur's father was one of them.

If Edward managed to escape, his status as the heir of House Falkus would allow him to unite the remaining forces in the North, which would have a certain impact on the control of the North and create additional trouble.

With this thought, his eyes turned cold. Ignoring his injuries, he strode purposefully in a certain direction.

The flames of war were engulfing the entire castle.

By this point, the once safe and peaceful castle had completely transformed. Warriors were engaged in combat everywhere, turning the situation within the castle into utter chaos.

In a small, secluded corner, Edward was hiding.

He held a long sword, his body drenched in sweat, looking extremely disheveled.

Recently, the tense situation around the North had persisted for a long time, but it had always been kept outside the castle by Count Polia, not affecting him at all.

When the chaos suddenly erupted, he was still in his room resting with his companion. Suddenly, several skilled warriors burst in, intending to capture him.

If not for loyal guards appearing at the critical moment to hold off those attackers, he would likely have been taken away by now.

Standing still, listening to the clear sounds of fighting all around, Edward felt terror in his heart, his right hand gripping the sword trembling slightly.

Compared to his father, Count Polia, in his youth, he was clearly far inferior.

He was born into nobility, his father the ruler of the North, and his mother from a prestigious lineage. However, his own talent and personality were mediocre. Although he possessed some knightly talent, he detested the arduous training of knights. Even though Count Polia forced him to train, he was only slightly stronger than an ordinary person now, likely not even able to defeat a single elite warrior.

Over time, Count Polia basically gave up on training him to be a knight, intending only to prepare a few talented clansmen to assist him. Arthur was one of them.

Count Polia had only two sons. His eldest son had left long ago. As his only remaining child, Edward was the heir to the earldom from birth. He had never faced any real danger, let alone personally fought others.

Such an experience was like a nightmare for him, leaving him dazed and unable to recover.

"They haven't searched over there yet!" At this moment, a shout echoed from a distance, startling Edward instinctively.

In the distance, several warriors clad in black leather armor, weapons in hand, were approaching, seemingly preparing to search this area.

"What should I do?" Feeling the approaching footsteps drawing closer to his location, Edward was overcome with fear, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

The sounds from afar grew nearer. Although this place was spacious, there weren't many hiding spots, and they would soon reach Edward's location.

Sensing this, Edward gritted his teeth and simply walked out of his hiding spot, running towards the distance.

"There!! It's Polia's heir!!"

Excited shouts erupted from afar. The warriors in the distance saw Edward's retreating figure and quickly gave chase.

They were fast and numerous, skillfully blocking off the escape routes around him and closing in for an encirclement.

Thump!!

With a soft sound, in his panicked flight, Edward's foot slipped, and he fell directly to the ground.

Watching the warriors slowly approach him, despair welled up in his eyes. He could barely imagine what would happen after his capture.

At this moment, a fierce sword wind suddenly sounded, and a greatsword swept across, cutting down the figures before him.

"Lord Edward!!" A call came from in front of him.

A familiar voice reached his ears. Edward looked up in surprise, seeing a tall, imposing middle-aged knight standing before him.

Flar, clad in full armor, held a seemingly heavy greatsword. He stood there, casually dispatching the black-armored warriors.

There were dried bloodstains on his armor, it was unclear if they were from enemies or himself. He quickly moved to Edward's side and helped him up.

"Knight Flar, where is my father?"

Looking at the tall knight before him, Edward felt as if he had found his anchor and asked urgently.

"I don't know."

To Edward's disappointed gaze, Flar shook his head. "The situation is already dire, yet Lord Polia has still not appeared."