Pedestrians on both sides of the street stopped to watch, uttering words of admiration for the knight on the white horse. The girls were even more whispering to each other, with a sparkle in their eyes that men most hoped women would reveal when looking at themselves, namely adoration and infatuation, as well as longing.

  The horse is a rare good horse, and the person riding it is even more extraordinary. The silver armor of the knight seems to be an integral part of his being, rather than something he wears, as if his personality shines through naturally. With such majesty, it's only because he wears it that it looks so magnificent. A head of golden hair that gives off a dazzling illusion, as if the sun's radiance is embodied in him, willingly becoming a part of him. Sword-like eyebrows, a straight nose bridge, and a handsome yet masculine facial outline that exudes a strong aura. The sunlight shines on the armor and golden hair, reflecting back to create an optical illusion that makes onlookers mistake it for his own radiance.

  Of course, such a person must have an identity that matches him. Among the passersby, several people who knew whispered to each other, "This is the eldest son of Grand Duke Ernie, the captain of the Royal Holy Knights, the son-in-law of Duke Mlak, and Sir Ernie Klavius." One of the listeners, a young girl, immediately fantasized that her mother had once been intimate with Sir Mlak.

  Clavius was indifferent to the crowd of onlookers around him. In his eyes, these stupid commoners and ants were no different, astonished by their own grandeur and righteousness, not worth paying attention to.

  And he's been annoyed for a month now, and to make matters worse, he has to waste his time here. If he could, he would immediately draw his sword and kill all the plebeians on the street who are slowing down the convoy.

  That soldier somehow managed to escape from the capital, and it's even possible that he has been hiding in some dark corner of the city all along. This thought had kept him awake for a whole month. Every time he remembered that despicable creature might be hiding in some dark hole, gloating over his narrow escape from a knight's hands, taking pleasure in the knight's worry and frustration, he would fall into extreme rage. He vowed that when he caught the soldier, he would carefully and slowly peel off every sensitive spot on his body, like trimming fingernails, making him howl like a dog in a pool of blood for three days and nights, licking his own shoes with his tongue, begging to be killed quickly.

  The only good news is that at least the soldier hasn't leaked the message yet. It's possible he doesn't even know the true meaning of the message and will take it to his grave forever. The progress of the Western Beastmen has also been unexpectedly smooth, probably just half a year more and everything will be fine. However, the soldier remains like an unexploded bomb with unknown circumstances, possibly already rendered ineffective due to dampness, or possibly suddenly revealing his presence from somewhere on some day, ruining the entire delicate setup.

  Today his fiancée, who was injured, was finally sent back, and he had to put down what he was doing and continue escorting her back to the Duke's mansion outside the city. He was very reluctant to waste time on such things.

  He extremely dislikes wasting time. Time is very precious, every minute should be spent efficiently, there should be gains, and it should help oneself gain more power and a higher status. People should strive to improve themselves constantly, this is his creed, and he is also proud of having such a creed, with which he looks down on those who live like insects, one day at a time, as inferior people. Therefore, he holds extreme dislike for all things that violate this proud creed of his.

  Moreover, he also knew that she was equally unwilling to see him. Her attitude towards him was not a kind of open disgust, but a kind of apathetic indifference. This attitude made Clavius extremely disgusted and even angry. He was used to being worshipped, admired, feared by others, and even allowed others to hate him, despise him, at least it showed that he was an existence that could not be ignored in other people's minds, a very powerful proof. However, he absolutely did not allow others to ignore him, did not allow others to look at him as if they were looking at a cockroach slipping away in the corner of the wall.

  In this world, there is only one person who looks at him like that. If it were someone else, he would have to go all out to tell that person who dares to look down on him, and he can tear anyone who underestimates him to shreds. But this person just happens to be his fiancée, a person who will accompany him with that gaze for the rest of his life. And now he still has to waste a lot of time protecting her.

  This is undoubtedly a very annoying thing, and if he could help it, he absolutely wouldn't do so.

  But no matter what, sometimes the impression of an onlooker is key, and that's where the significance of this matter lies. The daughter of Duke Mlak was injured, and given the relationship between Duke Mlak and the Erni family, the eldest son of Grand Duke Erni was also the fiancé of the duke's daughter, so he would definitely rush out of the city to escort his fiancée back to the duke's mansion with great care. Since people thought that way, things could only be demonstrated in this manner.

  The two of them had already met, and they were very much in sync with each other, not exchanging a single glance or word. Instead, as soon as they saw each other, she asked her sister in a weak voice, where was the young man who came to report at the duke's mansion a month ago? In her mind, that soldier was a hundred times more important than her fiancé. This made Klaus even angrier, but he wasn't jealous, in his eyes, his fiancée or any woman for that matter was just a tool, and her attitude only proved that from a certain perspective, he was inferior to that soldier.

  From whatever angle, he didn't want to compare, he just wouldn't allow a lowly country bumpkin to have even the slightest suspicion of surpassing him in any way. I am the strongest, most perfect, most awesome, and top-notch person. This concept had long taken root in his mind and was also his pride. He was indeed a very proud person, so it was easy for him to get annoyed and angry.

  Perhaps that damned soldier would take this opportunity to get close to her. Then, right in front of her, he could cut off the guy's limbs one by one and let her see who was more indispensable. Claudius thought so, trying to give some meaning to this boring action that made him feel bad. But he also knew that this was just a self-consoling thought, and no matter what, that soldier wasn't stupid enough for that.

  "Brother-in-law, have you noticed the way those girls are looking at you?" Chris was gazing at Clavius with the very look she had just described, excitedly tattling on her colleague.

  "Uh-huh." Klause was deep in thought.

  "Don't always be so cool." Chris's gaze went deeper. This girl was his fiancée's younger sister, seventeen years old, with a similar appearance to her sister but even more beautiful, one of the few beauties in the imperial capital, and had the typical noblewoman's frivolous and capricious personality.

  Like all the youngest daughters in every family, she was spoiled by her father. Moreover, after her birth, the duke didn't have much time to spend on educating his children. The same growing environment as other noble sons also made her have a similar personality. Some time ago, she even asked to go to the Magic Academy to study and research ancient books, but it seems that it was just to give herself some high-sounding halo, without any actual significance.

  Clauvis sometimes wondered why the Duke didn't marry his daughter off to him. Such a naive and shallow girl would be easy to grasp, he was familiar with dealing with her, and it would be much more convenient for both the Duke and himself.

  A commotion suddenly came from the rear of the motorcade. "Someone tried to climb onto Miss's carriage and was caught by us," a guard reported.

  This report suddenly reminded Klauwens of something that had just been a conjecture, a premonition of great luck surged in his heart, and he rode over.

  Several soldiers were dragging a man entirely enveloped in a cloak. He was a hunchback, seemingly also a cripple, wearing a cloak that looked as if it hadn't been washed for several hundred years, and it was easy to imagine him being someone who worked on some strange tasks in a dark underground chamber.

  Klauss looked carefully, and suddenly found that this cloak was actually very good, just enough to hide all the body parts of this person underneath, even if standing in front of you, it's hard to see the face inside, and even the figure is blurry under the effect of the cloak.

  Klause dismounted, his eyes fixed on the face submerged in the hood's shadow, as if he wanted to pierce every detail inside with his gaze.

  He walked step by step to the front of this person. Each step was very slow and steady, as if in front of him was a ghost that had just appeared from the gap in time, and would disappear into thin air with a little carelessness.

  He slowly grasped the hilt of his sword at his waist, ordering word by word: "Pull off whatever is on his head." At this distance, he was confident that he absolutely wouldn't let anyone escape again.

  The cloak was opened, and the first reaction was from the soldier who pulled the cloak. He was immediately frightened and jumped back a step.

  This face was very unsuitable to appear in broad daylight. The five senses seemed to have been melted by a pot of boiling water and then randomly pinched together again, like an inferior mud sculptor who was dissatisfied with his own work, and pressed another handful on the originally ugly face. There were also pieces of purple-red flesh tumors that shone with oil, swollen as if they would burst open immediately, spewing out hot pus. "It's Sandru old man's hunchbacked assistant." Someone in the guards immediately recognized him.

  Klauvis carefully scanned the face from top to bottom, unable to find any elements that matched his preconceived notion, and felt a wave of nausea. Turning to the guard who had just spoken, the anger and disgust in his eyes were palpable enough for even the stupidest cow to sense, he asked: "Do you know him?"

  The guard trembled with fear and clarified for himself: "It's not that I know him, but many people know that this guy is the assistant of Sandro, the old man from the west city who specializes in corpses." Many passersby nearby echoed in agreement. Some even shouted: "Camel, you think that's a hearse? Quickly kowtow and admit your mistake!"

  Is it just others? Is it just a coincidence? However, even if it's a miskill, it seems like there's no big deal, can't let go of any slight possibility. Klaudius' hand grasping the sword had a few blue veins bulging.

  But he took a look at that face, which was really too ugly to look at again, and finally let go of the hilt. Such an ugly person, doing such dirty things, his blood would probably be as filthy and smelly as the water in a sewer, what if it got on his clothes or body? What if it splashed onto his face? This thought made him feel like vomiting. He turned around and mounted his horse, ordering: "Drive him away."

  "Scram." The guard was afraid of getting his shoes dirty and didn't dare to really kick him, so he just lifted his foot and pretended to kick, making a hissing sound to shoo him away. The onlookers burst into laughter.

  "That person's appearance was terrifying!" Chris clung to Klaus' arm, looking frightened as she watched the man put his cloak back on and limp away into the crowd.

  "Who was that?" a weak female voice came from inside the car. Chris replied, "Nothing, just a madman."

  At dusk, in the big house, Sandru was taking out the livers of two corpses to compare them, then cut them into small pieces and soak them in liquid. Asa was helping beside him, passing various tools.

  A stray cat jumped in through the window and stared at Shandru, meowing. Shandru casually cut off a piece of something from his hand and threw it to the stray cat.

  "What if the bones in your neck crack open?" Asa asked.

  "Throw it away." Shandru didn't even lift his head.

  "Not a dead person, I mean if a living person's cervical vertebra is fractured, how should it be treated?"

  Shandru picked up the small iron hammer on the table, and with a dull thud, crushed one of the vertebrae in the neck of a corpse, saying: "Try to put it back together yourself." Then, as if suddenly remembering, he stared at Asa and said: "You still owe me three years and two months of work."

  "I know," Asa replied.

  "Then spare a thought for my two years and nine months of work." Shandru emphasized the word 'my' with a special stress. "Don't go getting yourself killed. I heard you were very brave today. But do you know, your cripple really doesn't look the part."

  "How can I pretend?" Asa asked humbly. Next time he must talk to her successfully.

  Shandru picked up the small iron hammer from just now. "Lift your feet up."

  At the same time, in the Duke's mansion, Duke Mlak was sitting beside his daughter's bed, telling her a made-up story. He hadn't done this for over ten years, but now he picked up where he left off with ease.

  "Is he just going to leave like that?" Xiao Yi's eyes were filled with disappointment.

  The Duke of Muluo also had disappointment in his eyes, saying: "Yes. Such an excellent young man, I also want to keep him. But he insisted on leaving, and I couldn't do anything about it."

  Next to her, Chris imagined the story of her sister just now, and sighed: "A person travels alone in the most dangerous swamp on the entire continent, fights with a beastman, saves a girl... This is really like the story told by a bard. He must be very handsome, with long hair covering half of his eyes... Right, maybe he's even a prince of some small country." She said it as if she was excited for no reason.

  "What did he say?" asked Xiao Yi, with a gaze full of hope after disappointment.

  The Duke of Mulak's eyes were filled with the gentleness, tolerance and understanding that a kind father should have. He replied: "He told you to take good care of your injuries and not go to such dangerous places again in the future. When he has the chance, he will come back to see you."

  "This young man's report is extremely useful. But this is a military secret that cannot be revealed to others, or it will render his efforts in vain. So you must not reveal to anyone what he has told you, nor tell anyone about the encounter in the swamp." The duke emphasized his tone and slowed down his voice, more serious than before. "You must remember, do not let his hard work go to waste, understand?"