“Sir Joachim has arrived!” Brod cried out loud. The rest of Joachim’s knights and soldiers also cried out in support. Joachim had already gotten off Brod’s back. Even though his health had never been good and it worsened because of his imprisonment, he tried to conceal his poor condition. He straightened his shoulders and strengthened his posture to the point that Brod’s eyes became filled with admiration.
“Stop the battle!” Joachim’s voice was not amplified by mana. However, the intense charisma in his voice was enough to reach the people around him. Even the people who did not follow Joachim became filled with admiration. His hatred for power struggles was clearly displayed in front of everyone. Joachim pushed away Brod who tried to support him and walked to the front. The knights and soldiers opened up a path for him, and Joachim stopped right in front of the inner gate. Then he stared at the people who were guarding the gate.
“…It has been a while, Sir Carlowen.”
“Yes, it has been a while, Sir Joachim.”
A completely white-haired elderly knight greeted Joachim.
“Sir Carlowen, if I am not wrong, you seem to be the leader of that group.”
“Yes, you are right.”
“Won’t you surrender to us?” Joachim requested.
“Sir, that will never happen.”
“I’m disappointed, Sir Carlowen. Don’t you know that Biyom spread infectious diseases and killed countless people? As an aide for my father, haven’t you worked to provide the best lives for the citizens of this estate in the past? Were your past behaviors all lies?”
Rather than anger, Joachim felt regretful. As a top aide for Count Dracul, Gloce Carlowen was known to be loyal, moral, and most of all—strong. Joachim had a hard time believing that Carlowen, who was respected and admired by all the Dracul knights, would side with a power-hungry person like Biyom.
“Biyom. Biyom. You keep mentioning Biyom.” Carlowem muttered Biyom’s name to himself. His mouth was crooked, and he continued with a cynical tone, “Do you think I—no,weare moving for that fat bastard?”
At his words, his surroundings became noisy. ‘Fat bastard’—it was not a suitable way to call his master’s son at all. Carlowen’s harsh words shocked the people around him.
“Are you saying that you don’t follow Biyom? Then for what reason have you thrown yourself into this battlefield! Please don’t tell me that this is my father’s will.”
“How would I know the will of the dying Count? He’s already half-dead, counting the last of his days. As his son, were you seriously not aware of how severe his condition was?”
No. Joachim could not believe the person in front of him was Carlowem. Regardless of how he addressed Biyom, the Carlowem he kne
Click here to report chapter errors,After the report, the editor will correct the chapter content within two minutes, please be patient.