Chapter 143: The Elite

"Let's make camp here."

Tenis wiped the beads of sweat from his chin, panting. Vinnie watched him with a look of heartache and ordered the surrounding soldiers to halt and rest.

Viscount Tenis’s caravan had only been on the road for two days when they discovered that the path had been washed away by rain, making it completely impassable for carriages. They had no choice but to abandon their luxurious, comfortable coaches and continue on horseback. As an aristocrat, horsemanship was a required skill; Tenis possessed decent ability, capable of performing various flashy maneuvers, but after trekking hundreds of kilometers while sleeping in the wild, he was reaching his limit. After all, he was a scholar, not a sturdy soldier. Yet, Tenis was an ambitious court noble, and he had personally volunteered for this diplomatic mission, enduring the hardships of the journey with gritted teeth.

Twenty days later, they finally arrived at the Victor Territory, and Tenis had reached his breaking point. Vinnie and Romon had no choice but to find a spot with a water source to set up camp.

With Vinnie’s support, Tenis dismounted and sat on a nearby rock. At this moment, the Viscount lacked any aristocratic elegance, appearing only unspeakably disheveled. Vinnie knelt and gently massaged his stiff legs with her slender fingers.

The female knight’s tenderness caused a tremor in Tenis’s heart. He felt as if he were back in their childhood, when he would care for her just like this whenever she was injured. But as they grew older, they had walked different paths: Vinnie became a knight, while he became a scholar of the White Tower. After so many years, Tenis had assumed Vinnie had long since forgotten him, only to learn upon returning to his family that she had been waiting for him all along. However, he was already betrothed through his mentor’s arrangements.

Now, Tenis could only disappoint Vinnie’s affections. He lacked the strength to make a female knight his mistress, nor did he have the courage to betray his fiancée—who was the granddaughter of the Minister of Government Affairs. Even his title had been arranged by that same Minister, though court titles held little real value.

"Vinnie, go and ask the York family’s cavalrymen how we are supposed to find Viscount Victor." Tenis sent her away calmly, not wanting to give her any false hope.

Before long, Vinnie returned, looking indignant. "The York soldiers don't know how to find Viscount Victor either. They only said that the Viscount would find us. It’s simply preposterous!"

Tenis’s expression darkened. The Victor Territory spanned 12,000 square kilometers, a boundless expanse of dense purple cane forests and rolling hills, devoid of civilization. A group of twenty people was like a pebble tossed into a pond—barely causing a ripple. Finding Victor was no easier than finding a needle in a haystack, and it was equally unlikely that Victor would find them. Tenis had initially assumed Duke York was merely being cryptic and that the soldiers he dispatched would certainly know Victor’s location, but it turned out they did not. Tenis and his party couldn't help but suspect that Duke York was intentionally causing trouble.

"What game is the York family playing? Are they not afraid we might just turn around and leave?" Knight Romon walked over, his face grim and clearly dissatisfied.

Tenis sighed. If they could just turn on their heels and leave, they wouldn't have traveled thousands of miles to the Victor Territory. In truth, the nobles in the capital could not understand why Sylvia had not annexed the Victor Territory. Although the Centaur Hills covered a vast area, it was undeveloped wasteland; without years of investment, there would be no surplus output. However, the emergence of purple cane wine had made the Victor Territory the most prosperous land in the Centaur Hills. What was baffling was that the York family had not only refrained from annexing the territory but also maintained Victor’s status as an independent lord. In the end, everyone could only interpret this as Sylvia’s indulgence for her lover.

However, maintaining Victor’s status as a lord also asserted the Kingdom’s suzerainty over the Centaur Hills. This held not only political significance but practical meaning as well: the Kingdom could employ various political tactics against the Victor Territory, such as annuities, military conscription, grain taxation, or even clan warfare. As long as they could keep the Victor Territory in check, they could necessarily constrain the York family, a prospect the royal court was naturally happy to see.

According to tradition, without a castle, one lacked the legal ownership of a territory, but the royal family had to invest Victor and re-incorporate him into the kingdom’s feudal system. Thus, Tenis had to find him.

"Could it be that Duke York is jealous and is deliberately targeting Viscount Victor?" Vinnie’s eyes brightened as she whispered.

Vinnie’s gossip left Tenis and Romon speechless. Duke York and Sylvia were purely a nominal couple; the Duke had several personal maids, and Sylvia never batted an eye. How could he possibly be jealous, and how would he dare to be? Even if he were truly jealous, it would be even less likely for him to sabotage Victor’s investiture ceremony. If Victor lost his status as a lord, where else could he go besides to Sylvia’s side?

"All right, don't overthink it. We will wait here. Viscount Victor will certainly come." Tenis said.

"What if he can't find us?" Vinnie pressed.

As they were speaking, the soldier on guard duty shouted, "My Lord, there is movement!"

Everyone tensed. Along the way, they had encountered some ant-men. Just as rumors suggested, the ant-men intimidated them before going back to gnawing on crops, making no move to attack. Still, they did not want to get close to these pests and had avoided them from afar. Knight Romon said in a low voice, "Stay alert! If it is the ant-men, do not act rashly; we will move immediately."

"It’s Lord Victor’s men!" one of the York soldiers suddenly shouted.

No sooner had he spoken than a dozen soldiers approached. These men were equipped with leather armor, carrying shields and short spears, with heavy bows and quivers slung across their backs. Their eyes were sharp, their builds brawny and tough, and they moved with silent agility—all of them were elite fighters. Most eye-catching was the armored warrior among them. To be precise, it was the suit of armor he wore; its blue-black luster gave it a heavy and profound appearance, and its unique design and patterns indicated it was a custom-made knight’s armor. The craftsmanship was so exquisite that even Knight Romon cast a sidelong glance.

Surrounded by his men, the armored warrior walked up to them, pushed back his visor to reveal an ordinary face, but his eyes were as sharp as steel awls. Combined with that refined iron armor, he exuded a sense of oppressive power.

"I am Lord Victor’s captain of the guard, Nelson. By Lord Victor’s order, I have come to receive the envoys," the warrior said.

Tenis was somewhat surprised. The fine knight’s armor had led him to mistake the man for a knight tasked with protecting Victor, not a ferocious warrior under his command. It was no secret that Victor had recruited a ferocious mercenary.

"I am the envoy from the capital, Viscount Tenis. Tell me, Captain Nelson, where is Baron Victor now?" Tenis cleared his throat and asked with reserve.

"Good day, Viscount. Lord Victor is waiting for you at his temporary camp," Nelson bowed.

"Where is the temporary camp?" Knight Romon stepped forward and asked in a deep voice, visibly annoyed by the pressure the ferocious warrior across from him exerted.

"It is half a day’s journey from here," Nelson replied in a booming voice.

"What?! Still that far? The Viscount is exhausted from his journey; have your lord come here in person!" Vinnie shouted, her face icy. She only cared about Tenis’s well-being now and had long since tossed aside any plans of building rapport with Victor.

"No, we shall go to pay our respects to Baron Victor." Tenis waved a hand to stop Vinnie’s outburst and walked toward his horse. As he swung into the saddle, a sharp pain in his inner thighs made him sway uncontrollably.

"Tenis, your legs!" Vinnie caught him just in time, her voice filled with heartache.

Seeing this, Nelson immediately understood that the Viscount’s inner thighs had been chafed raw from the long ride. His expression softened. He raised his hand and struck through several bowl-thick trees nearby, then ordered, "Make a stretcher."

Knight Romon’s pupils constricted. Nelson’s effortless snapping of the trees signaled that he possessed unimaginable strength.

Before long, a makeshift stretcher was prepared. Vinnie helped Tenis onto it, and four soldiers hoisted the stretcher and set off after Nelson.

On the road, Knight Romon’s expression grew increasingly grave. Even carrying the stretcher, these soldiers did not slow down at all, and they did not even swap out the bearers. As the distance grew, the cavalrymen felt the formidable nature of these soldiers; their previous arrogance vanished, replaced by awe.

Tenis’s eyes flickered. Riding the stretcher wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was far better than being on horseback. His mind, however, was on the soldiers. Including the weight of the stretcher, Tenis weighed at least two hundred pounds, yet these men didn't blush or catch their breath. They carried him for such a distance, their strides remaining agile and steady. Their physical stamina alone far exceeded that of the elite soldiers in the capital. Tenis believed these men must be the elite of the York family’s elite, sent by Sylvia to protect Victor. However, what puzzled Tenis most was how these people had found them.

"Captain Nelson, how did you know we were camping at that location?" Tenis couldn't help but ask Nelson, who was walking in front.

"I was out patrolling with my men and just happened to bump into you," Nelson said with a grin.

"Is that so? What a coincidence," Tenis said with a dry chuckle.

After half a day of travel, Tenis finally arrived at Victor’s temporary camp.

The camp was very rudimentary—no fences, just a few shacks, with about twenty equally elite soldiers scattered around the perimeter. Tenis stepped off the stretcher and saw a young man approaching with several guards.

The young man had refined and handsome features, a tall and straight build, and deep, calm eyes. With his black hair, black eyes, and slightly pointed ears, he bore the unmistakable traits of a Moon Elf. Without asking, one knew he was the lord of this place: Baron Victor Wimbledon.

Nelson stepped forward and whispered a few words in Victor’s ear. Victor bowed to Tenis and said, "Welcome, honorable Viscount Tenis. You must be exhausted from your journey. Please come and rest in my camp. It will be my honor."

"Baron Victor, thank you for your kind invitation. I am indeed in need of a good rest. It is my honor as well," Tenis returned the bow.

The two exchanged pleasantries as if the makeshift camp were a luxurious castle. Vinnie couldn't help but roll her eyes, thinking to herself, "Viscount Victor is indeed very handsome... hmm, perhaps a little more handsome than Tenis."