Henry had won the duel, and the surrounding soldiers erupted in thunderous cheers and applause, hailing his Bravery and treating him like a hero.
Witnessing a high-and-mighty noble die before their very eyes was far more thrilling than just bragging about it in a tavern.
Yet, amid the uproar, Henry felt a strange sense of menace. He gazed at the breathless Nurulan, unable to pinpoint the source of the threat.
Three high-ranking officers came over to congratulate him. "Knight Henry Bro," they said, "tales of your Bravery will spread throughout the Seventh Legion."
Boman and Glen came to offer their congratulations as well, along with a few other noble Knights who came to express their admiration.
Henry handled the flattery with the ease of someone who was Skillful and Confident, but he also noticed the cold indifference and hostility from many of the Barons and Viscounts.
Henry shot Boman a look. Boman frowned and glanced around the crowd, but said nothing.
Henry raised a hand to the crowd. "I've been in the wilds for a month and a half and I need my rest. Tomorrow night, I'll spend five hundred Dinars to host a feast for all of you!"
The crowd roared with approval, cheering for Henry's generosity.
Once the crowd had dispersed, Boman finally explained under Henry's watchful eye, "They believe your actions are a declaration of war against the local nobility."
Henry tilted his head. "And I'm not a local noble?"
Glen pressed his lips together. "Henry, we're students of the academy, aren't we?"
Henry laughed, exasperated. 'These nobles must have too much time on their hands. If they don't have an enemy, they'll just invent one, won't they?'
"Regardless," Boman said with concern, "you've made enemies of the local nobles now."
"So what?"
Henry snorted in disdain. "Let them come. I have my sword. If they dare declare war on me, I will strike back without fail."
"That may be true, but you still need to be on your guard," Glen warned. "After all, their roots run deep here on the frontier. There's no telling what tricks they might pull, and you're the new arrival."
The local faction wants to decentralize power and weaken the throne. The court faction depends on the crown's favor and works to uphold its authority.
A first-generation noble like Henry, newly granted his title, is almost always considered part of the court faction. Even if you don't see yourself that way, everyone else automatically will.
"I know." A ruthless glint flashed in Henry's eyes.
"These nobles are corrupt. They are unworthy of their fealty to our great King. The holy empire has no need for such incompetent aristocrats."
"Exactly!" Boman and Glen nodded in agreement.
The four men present were all from the academy. Now that Henry had laid his cards on the table, the others saw no reason to be coy.
Every student granted a title by the King possessed vast knowledge, exceptional Bravery, a healthy purse, and dazzling honor.
In their eyes, the nobles who simply inherited titles passed down through generations were nothing but withered trees—imposing at a glance, but already hollowed out on the inside.
"The Half-Beastman threat is imminent, yet they're still in the mood for infighting. Hmph. After this counteroffensive, I will declare war on them. I will seize their lands, take their people, and claim their titles.
My Attendant is already a qualified Knight. I will grant him a title and make him my Vassal. I don't like the way those nobles look at me, but I'm very interested in their lands."
The other three men roared with laughter. Declarations of war between nobles were common, with conflicts sometimes erupting over something as trivial as a single sheep.
"Henry, let's go to the bathhouse."
"Not today, Boman. I'm exhausted. I'd like to be alone for a bit. Next time, I promise."
Henry returned to his tent and said to Bain, "Bain, I'm giving you my bow, arrows, and Riding Spear."
"Really, my lord? Then what will you use?"
"The Yanyue Saber, a Two-Handed Sword, a One-Handed Double-Bladed Axe... that's more than enough. 'Maybe I'll use a warhammer in the future?'"
Ailia expertly unstrapped Henry's armor and wiped the blood from his body. "My lord," she said, "you should bathe at once."
"Of course, Ailia. If you can fetch some hot water, I'd be happy to let you scrub my back."
Ailia went out to prepare the hot water. Meanwhile, Bain, grinning like a fool, took the weapons Henry had given him and rushed off to show them to Philip. A good weapon and set of armor could mean the difference between life and death.
Soon, Ailia and Orianna carried in a large tub, with Bain following close behind, hauling two large buckets of hot water.
Ailia said, "Orianna, please go heat some more water. Attendant Bain, you may leave us."
Henry undressed and sank into the spacious tub. The hot water soothed muscles that had been tense for over a month, and steam quickly filled the tent.
Ailia approached, her footsteps light as air. She picked up a soft cloth, dipped it gently into the water, and wrung it out.
She carefully draped the warm cloth over Henry's shoulders and began to gently wash his skin.
Her movements were delicate and gentle, born of long practice. Even back in the Royal Capital, it had been the same; whenever Henry was exhausted, he loved to take a long bath—a luxury that always gave Tommy, the Housekeeper, a headache.
Under Ailia's ministrations, Henry gradually relaxed. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth and comfort of her fingers gliding over his skin, bringing a profound sense of peace.
She meticulously washed every inch of his skin, from his neck to his toes, leaving no spot untouched.
Henry seemed to drift off, his mind replaying the details of slaying the Centaur and the Minotaur. He felt... a deep sense of satisfaction.
'Life, death, the world, the cosmos...'
Henry snapped awake, his gaze meeting Ailia's.
"Is something wrong, my lord?"
Henry shook his head slightly. "I must have been dreaming. I saw... I'm not sure what."
"You are tired, my lord. After dinner, I will give you a massage to help you relax and sleep peacefully."
When his bath was done, Henry rose from the tub, feeling revitalized. Ailia enveloped him in a large towel and gently dried him off.
Henry donned a sleeping robe and stepped out of the tent. The air was crisp and clean. The autumn wind sweeping across the grasslands was a bit cold, but he took a deep breath, savoring the rare moment of refreshment.
The soldiers in the camp were busy preparing the evening meal.
Laughter and conversation filled the air around the campfires as the soldiers discussed Henry's victory. They felt a great sense of honor to fight under the command of such a noble.
"My lord!"
"My lord."
A small smile touched Henry's lips. He picked up a brush, walked over to his warhorse, and began to gently stroke its mane. The steed, a gift from the King himself, had been with him through every battle and was his most faithful companion.
Just then, Claude approached with a letter in his hand.
"My lord, this just arrived. It appears to be from the Royal Capital."
Henry felt a pang of disappointment. 'A letter from the Royal Capital? From the head of the academy?' He took the envelope and tore it open. As he read, an expression of astonishment spread across his face.