Chapter 146: A Fragile Trouble

At noon the following day, Victor waited for lunch in the temporary camp.

A round-bellied, wide-mouthed clay pot bubbled with a fine, white broth. Several pork bones, accompanied by various mushrooms and wild vegetables, drifted in and out of sight, emitting a mouth-watering, exotic fragrance. Victor ladled out a bowl; it tasted incredibly fresh and savory, though perhaps a touch bland.

It had been exactly thirty days since Victor returned to his fief from Blackfort Town, and he had been living a camping lifestyle ever since. While camping was interesting, living in the wilderness every day eventually became tedious. In truth, if Victor wished, his alchemical militia could construct a simple wooden cabin within half a day, but they could not conjure up basic necessities—like salt.

Salt was inexpensive but essential. Victor had gathered the supplies left behind in his fief, including salt, but with over 700 alchemical humans under his command, those stocks had long since been depleted.

In the inland kingdom, salt primarily came from salt mines. Victor’s fief, however, lacked any such mines, and none had been found even in the surrounding mountains. Beyond salt, Victor also lacked cloth, leather, fish glue, and a variety of other supplies. Some could be produced locally, while others had to be purchased from the outside.

What worried Victor was that once the ant plague ended, the kingdom would inevitably use various means to restrict the flow of supplies into the Horse-Head Hills to consolidate the central government’s influence over the western lords. This meant Victor would no longer be able to acquire sufficient daily necessities from the York family, as they too would soon face shortages.

It was precisely because of this situation that Sylvia believed Sophia’s trading house would face covert suppression by the kingdom. By having Sophia act as an agent for her purple cane wine, she had essentially provided Sophia with a talisman—though, naturally, it would mean offending the major chambers of commerce within the Bory United Kingdom.

In short, Victor needed to plan ahead and secure new sources of supply. Otherwise, he would be strangled by the kingdom; without sufficient daily necessities, there could be no sufficient population. Could a viscountcy truly be called a viscountcy without enough manpower? The annual tributes alone would be enough to drag Victor to his ruin.

"My Lord, the mermen are clashing with the ant colony again. The ants that broke out are heading toward the riverbank," Nelson said, walking over and fishing out a pork bone, chewing it until his mouth was covered in grease.

Victor smiled faintly. He had cleverly exploited the characteristics of both the mermen and the ant-men, manipulating the ant swarms to provoke the mermen into attacking the ant-men on the banks. As the conflict between the two monsters intensified, the ant swarms no longer had time to destroy the purple cane forests. So far, the number of ant-men in the territory had been reduced to just over 3,000.

"The royal envoy has already left; we no longer need to wait for reinforcements from the Yorks. Within a month, we must completely eradicate the ant swarms so Lilia and the others can return to the fief, restore production, and rebuild their homes," Victor told Nelson.

Through persistent practice, Victor’s "Wind Walk" talent had seen significant improvement. As long as the tactical arrangements were sound, there was no difficulty in shooting down the Silver-tier ant-man leaders.

"That would be for the best. I’ve actually started to miss them," Nelson grinned.

"You mean you miss Linda."

Victor’s teasing made Nelson’s weathered face flush red. He had lived in the wild for over four months, and those stoic new companions were truly dull—they never initiated conversation and only answered when spoken to. If not for his obsession with practicing the "Secret Form," Nelson would have long ago succumbed to the loneliness.

"Did you bury the bodies of those two ant-man leaders?" Seeing Nelson’s embarrassment, Victor shifted the topic.

"Only the intact one was buried; the other had lost too much blood and was found by the ant swarm." Nelson shook his head with regret. The corpses of Silver-tier monsters were extremely precious, and the loss of even one pained him, even though they had already buried ten ant-man leaders.

Victor asked again, "Has the female knight from the Chapman family left yet?"

"The latest report is that she is still on the island in the middle of the lake. My Lord, should we send her some food?" Nelson asked. Having gone through this ant plague, he had developed a bit of rapport with the Chapman knight, mixed with a touch of guilt, as his original intentions toward her hadn't been entirely pure. Victor, however, praised this highly—it was precisely how the purple cane forests in the fief had been preserved. In any case, if the ant-men finished the purple cane, they would have eventually gone after the Chapman family anyway.

"Leave her be. She is a Grand Knight, after all; she’s not our concern."

Yesterday’s events were just a minor episode. Victor had done his duty by going to her rescue, and he hadn't minded her following him along the way. But her heading toward Shak had displeased him greatly. Moreover, because the ant swarm had been in close pursuit, Victor believed she hadn't discovered the secret of the Thorium heavy crossbows. Since she was safe now, there was no need to invite further trouble.

Nelson nodded silently, agreeing with Victor. It would be ridiculous for a wolf to worry about a tiger’s food, wouldn't it?

As they were talking, Shak stepped forward to report, "My Lord, someone is coming. It’s that female knight."

Victor saw the Chapman knight outside the camp. She was barefoot, her damp, thin linen undergarment clinging tightly to her body, revealing her stunning beauty and figure.

She had short, black, ear-length hair, delicate features, and emerald eyes like two pools of green water. Her eyes were narrow and long with upturned outer corners—the most enchanting phoenix eyes. Her lips were slightly full, appearing very sexy. She possessed a tall, slender build with a serpentine waist and full hips, and a pair of remarkably long, straight, beautiful legs. Her honey-colored skin was smooth and exquisite, and the firm globes on her chest rose and fell with each step. Her phoenix eyes held a sense of authority; her expression was cold, and she walked with a straight back and a powerful, tiger-like stride. Even with her charms partially exposed, she showed no sign of bashfulness, her proud and confident demeanor embodying a cold, piercing, heroic spirit.

Sexy and hot, enchanting and cold, strong yet graceful—all these traits blended together to give the female knight a unique allure. Victor felt his throat go dry, and he desperately wanted a drink of water to moisten it.

"Gulp."

Beside him, Nelson’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and he actually made an audible swallowing sound. Victor felt incredibly embarrassed. Sure enough, the female knight spoke: "Baron, don't you find it rude for your attendant to stare at a noble lady like that?"

The female knight’s slightly raspy voice carried a hint of sexiness, yet the meaning of her words made Victor feel a bit strange. If it wasn't okay for an attendant to stare, was it okay for him to do so?

"Beautiful lady, when facing a Grand Knight with unknown intentions, my attendant’s gaze is not excessive at all! Don't you agree?" Victor said with a faint, enigmatic smile.

Nelson, who had just been at a loss, grew stern and gripped the handle of his axe. The surrounding alchemical militia had been staring coldly at the unarmed female knight the entire time, their spears and arrows pointed at her vital spots; should she make any sudden move, she would immediately be met with a ruthless attack.

Ignoring the rising murderous aura, the female knight walked straight toward the camp with a cold face. "I'm hungry."

Victor watched, dumbstruck, as the female knight crossed her breathtakingly long legs and sat before the clay pot, fishing out a pork bone and gnawing on it.

After finishing the meat on the bone, she said, "Baron, find me some clothes. I assume there are no new ones here, so old ones will do, but not ones worn by your attendants. Yours will do."

"Miss, if you are a noble, please declare your identity first. I am under no obligation to prepare clothes for someone of unknown status. And by the way, I am a Viscount." Victor laughed out of sheer annoyance; this girl was truly arrogant, acting as if she were the master of this place.

"I am Gillian Chapman, a Silver-tier Grand Knight, the eldest daughter of Earl Chapman and heir to the earldom. As a noble, shouldn't you extend a helping hand upon seeing a weak lady in such a state of undress? Where is your chivalry, my Lord Viscount?" Gillian mocked.

"Weak?" A Silver-tier Grand Knight calling herself a "weak lady"—Victor wondered if he had misheard or if Gillian was insulting his intelligence. With his superhuman hearing and the enhanced memory provided by X-3, Victor was certain it was the latter. He retorted, "Miss Gillian, I can provide you with clothes and dispatch guards to escort you out of my fief. Clearly, I do not lack chivalry. What do you say, 'weak' Grand Knight?"

*Crack.*

Gillian snapped the tough pork bone and tilted her head back, sucking the marrow into her mouth. Her phoenix eyes were hazy, her sensual lips holding the bone, her slender neck arched high, and her firm, rounded chest seemed ready to burst through her clothing. Victor’s eyelid twitched; he could clearly see two distinct points beneath her thin undergarment.

"I’m not going anywhere."

Tossing the hollow bone to the ground, the Grand Knight said lazily, "I need to sleep now. Viscount, I should warn you: I am not yet married. If you touch me, you will have to take responsibility."

Having said this, Gillian curled up on the ground, eyes closed, her face alternating between flushed and pale. This sudden turn of events startled Victor.

At Victor’s signal, Shak went over to check on the collapsed female knight. "My Lord, she has fainted. Her condition is not good."

Victor touched Gillian’s smooth forehead; it felt alternately icy and burning to the touch, which was quite alarming.

Watching the female knight’s trembling, hot body, Victor thought to himself: "So, she really is a 'weak' Grand Knight, after all."