This honor isn't yours just yet!

Three days earlier, Wes had told the original owner of this body that Harrenhal's grain stores had run dry, and they urgently needed money to buy more.

With no other choice, the original owner had taken House Whent's sworn knight, Ser Vereword, to House Vance to demand repayment of the hundred gold dragons they had borrowed.

But House Whent had fallen into decline, leaving only the original owner, a frail boy of eighteen.

House Vance did not take the young lord seriously at all.

Instead, they had all chimed in with snide remarks.

Though the original owner had been timid, he still had a temper.

Once he had left House Vance's castle and was no longer under guest right, he had drawn his longsword.

That had played right into House Vance's hands.

The head of House Vance, Raymond Vance, his two sons, and three guards had all attacked the original owner and Ser Vereword together.

Of course, House Vance had not dared to kill them.

Hard-pressed to defend himself, the original owner had stumbled and fallen, right where a stone lay on the ground.

The impact had knocked him unconscious on the spot.

Now, hearing Davion's question, Pia lowered her head slightly and pursed her lips before saying:

"You were badly injured and unconscious that day, and House Vance took your horses too. Despite his own serious injuries, Ser Vereword carried you back to Harrenhal."

"It was already very late when Ser Vereword brought you to Harrenhal. He passed out as soon as he saw us."

"Maester Tosmiu said Ser Vereword had lost too much blood and had several broken ribs."

Davion nodded inwardly at her words.

This sworn knight is a loyal subordinate!

He continued asking:

"Then where is Ser Vereword now?"

Pia stole a guilty glance at Davion and opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Sensing something amiss, Davion pressed her again:

"Where is Ser Vereword now?"

Pia pursed her lips and said quietly:

"Wes put Ser Vereword in the basement."

"What?"

Davion shot to his feet.

From his memories, Davion knew that the basement Pia meant was beneath the tower he was in, Kingspyre Tower.

He distinctly remembered that the basement was a prison!

It was dark and damp, utterly unsuitable for someone recovering from serious injuries.

The ferocity emanating from Davion made Pia involuntarily retreat two steps.

She hurriedly explained:

"Wes said Maester Tosmiu only had enough medicine for you, and Harrenhal had no money left to buy another person's worth of wound medicine."

Davion might have been affected by the brutality in his Dragon Blood.

At that moment, he very much wanted to chop Wes into mince.

And separate it into minced fat, minced meat, and minced cartilage!

Davion took two deep breaths before suppressing the urge to tear everything apart.

He said to Pia in a calm voice:

"I'm going to the basement to see Ser Vereword now! Go tell Wes to meet me there immediately!"

Pia, too, now noticed that Davion's bearing was completely different from before his injury.

He had become much more commanding as a lord.

Pia nodded and said:

"Yes, my lord. I'll go get him now."

Davion nodded and left the room first.

He knew Vereword must be gravely injured now!

So gravely that someone like Wes dared to shove a sworn knight into the basement to wait for death!

Vereword was no longer merely an injured sworn knight.

He was proof of the utter contempt in which House Whent was held!

Still in his nightclothes, Davion walked down the spiral stone stairs, one step at a time.

Harrenhal's stone steps were broad and large, each worn very smooth.

The corridor was pitch-dark.

The torch brackets on either side were empty.

A touch of Davion's hand came away with a thick layer of dust.

That meant House Whent could no longer afford even to light torches in the tower where its lord lived.

When Davion reached the ground floor, he did not head straight to the basement. Instead, he left the tower and entered the courtyard.

He remembered many elms and oaks growing in the open space between Kingspyre Tower and Widow's Tower.

Untended for years, the trees here grew in a tangled jumble.

By moonlight, he felt his way to the edge of the small grove.

With a slight shift of Davion's awareness, a mass of something glowing green appeared in his hand.

On closer inspection, the veins of green leaves were faintly visible.

Davion looked at the object and let out a breath of relief.

"I hope this works!"

[Tango: Sacrifice a tree to obtain a mass of life essence. Can be used to heal injuries!]

[A lifeline on the battlefield.]

The object was called Tango. Players all called it "eating trees."

Davion picked up the Tango and pressed it against an elm.

A sudden burst of green light enveloped the entire tree.

After just a second or two, the elm abruptly shattered into specks of green light, which gathered again in Davion's hand and became a vivid green leaf.

Feeling the immense vitality contained in the leaf, Davion could not help smiling.

Holding the leaf, he hurried back to Kingspyre Tower.

He pushed open the wooden door connecting the ground floor to the basement.

A cold, damp stench of decay washed over him.

Davion twitched his nose. A trace of blood hung in the damp air.

He quickened his steps further.

When his foot touched the basement floor, it made a sudden splash.

The place was so cold and damp that condensation had formed little puddles on the ground.

Davion cursed inwardly:

Damn you, Wes!

Without stopping, he followed the smell, searching the cells one by one.

Whether Wes had been lazy or something else, Davion found the dying knight Vereword in the very first cell.

The cell's walls were built entirely of stone, with a small ventilation opening near the ceiling.

Moonlight spilled through the opening, shining directly on Vereword's face.

Vereword's face was now paler than a White Walker's.

He wore only a thin linen shirt, his knight's armor nowhere to be found.

His eyes were tightly shut, and his lips trembled faintly and unconsciously, as though he wanted to say something.

Suppressing his anger, Davion slowly approached, crouched down, and gently helped Vereword up.

Unexpectedly, the knight, a man in his twenties in the prime of his life, was extraordinarily light.

Davion no longer wanted to curse Wes.

Only slicing Wes into a thousand pieces could vent the hatred in his heart.

Davion hurriedly brought the leaf to Vereword's lips, intending to feed it to him.

Just then, Vereword actually woke.

An unnatural flush rose in his face.

His eyes were visibly filled with excitement as he looked at Davion.

"Earl... my lord... you're all right?"

"Ser Ward, your valor saved my life! In the name of House Whent, I offer you my sincere thanks!"

Vereword gave a quiet chuckle.

"My lord, I'm glad you're all right! As a sworn knight, it is my honor to die fighting for you."

Vereword spoke much more smoothly, and his cheeks grew rosier.

Suspecting this was his final rally before death, Davion hurriedly said:

"Ser Ward, I'm afraid I must disappoint you. This honor isn't yours just yet!"

"You still have countless long summers of service to give our House Whent!"

Before Vereword could understand what was happening, Davion stuffed the vivid green leaf into his mouth.

The leaf dissolved the moment it entered his mouth, and an immense surge of vitality instantly burst forth, coursing through Vereword's body and healing his injuries!

Just then, the sound of the cell door opening came from behind Davion.

Wes entered the dungeon with Pia, carrying an oil lamp.