Chapter 793: Chapter 17: Saint George’s Knight Order

"Nina!"

Juliano was somewhat incredulous. He pushed aside the crowd blocking his way, quickly walked up, and looked excitedly at the familiar yet unfamiliar young Wolf Race girl with blue-gray short hair standing behind Leon.

His lips trembled, opening his mouth several times, but words failed him; all he could say was, "You’re back."

"Yes, I’m back."

Cherina’s voice was very faint, but those who knew her could still detect the waves of emotion within.

"That’s great, just great."

Juliano was a bit at a loss for words. He never thought he would have the chance to see his daughter again in his lifetime. When he thought about it, not a single telegram, not a single letter could be sent out.

Sometimes he felt regret. If he had chosen to be a good father back then, instead of trying to liberate the Wolf Race and rebuild a foundation in the New Continent, perhaps he wouldn’t have ended up so alone.

"Aside from your hair, you haven’t changed much from before."

Cherina touched her trimmed hair and said dejectedly, "It got burned during battle, so I decided to cut most of it off. Father, for you, it’s been twenty years since we last saw each other, but for us, it’s only been half a year."

Several Centurions present squeezed in excitedly, greeting one another, "Long time no see, Lady Jeanne. A few years ago, I even went to France to ask about your news. Where have you been all these years?"

"Lady Prajna, I never thought we’d have the chance to meet again."

Being reminded by his clansmen, Juliano quickly collected his emotions and welcomed them solemnly, "Ladies and gentlemen, it’s an honor to meet you again. But for you all to come together, the situation must be quite dire, right?"

The last time the group came together was to fend off the Expedition Army of the old Wolf Race, and this time will surely not be simple either.

Jeanne nodded, "Indeed, it’s quite dire. You guessed correctly, the enemy is the British. If things go wrong, the Mexicans might join in for a share."

"It’s truly a case of a fierce tiger in front and a hyena behind."

The old Clan Leader sighed, though he had already guessed earlier, having the news confirmed still made his mood increasingly heavy. After thirty years of hard work, it might all turn to naught in an instant. How could one remain indifferent?

Jeanne showed a cheerful smile, "Think positively. With our help, this is an opportunity to demonstrate the power of the Texas Wolf Race, which could be a chance for rapid development for you."

The old Clan Leader could only say, "Let’s hope so."

The French have already lost their foothold in America. If this battle can showcase the prowess of the Texas Wolf Race, it would prove themselves to the French, qualifying them to be a thorn beside the British American Colonies.

To compete against England and Germany for European supremacy.

The French are even willing to strongly support the massive Tsarist Russia, supporting mere Texas is naturally not difficult. However, by that time, Texas will inevitably drift further from independence."

Beside him, the Centurions laughed heartily, "Clan Leader, Lady Jeanne, the miss has come. What’s there to worry about?"

"That’s right. Being able to fight side by side with Lady Jeanne again, it would be worth dying for!"

Jeanne rolled her eyes, looking at the familiar, enthusiastic faces, and said with a smile, "Don’t say such unlucky things. When we win this war, we’ll have to celebrate wildly together!"

Furin beside her couldn’t help but mutter softly, "You say not to say unlucky things, but what you said is even more unlucky."

"By the way, where is Mr. Losa?"

After calming down, the old Clan Leader finally reacted. Although Captain Losa’s skills are mediocre, his status is prestigious and his rank definitely top-notch. With him around, he felt assured.

Jeanne shook her head, "I don’t know, but he should be able to come over soon."

The master now could regularly transform into a True Dragon; even if separated by an ocean like last time, at worst, he could fly over.

...

Shreveport, Louisiana.

Riding on the back of Eclipse, Losa urged his mount to walk slowly on this land full of exotic charm.

This is a border town mainly focused on cotton agriculture. Due to developed river transportation, it ranks well as a major city in Louisiana. Walking along small paths, Losa could clearly see the enslaved Black men, bound by iron chains in plantation shacks.

Judging by their physique, they seemed quite robust, suggesting their daily meals might be adequate, at least enough to fill their stomachs.

Losa only glanced a few times before the overseer, clutching a whip and holstered firearms, glared with sinister eyes.

He then looked away; the Thirteen Colonies hadn’t gained independence, industry hadn’t developed, and agriculture still dominated, naturally leaving no civil war or emancipation proclamation. Of course, even if there were such proclamations, Southern Louisiana probably wouldn’t comply.

On the outskirts of the town were mostly dilapidated two-story buildings built of stone and wood.

The sounds of Eclipse’s hooves drew probing glances from behind windows.

Losa ignored these, continuing towards the town center.

Upon reaching the center, Losa saw some decently decorated brick buildings arranged beside the road, with various signs like wine cups, scales, clothing, bread, hanging outside their doors—probably the commercial street of this era.

Due to it being nighttime, there were barely any pedestrians, only a few taverns and pleasure venues remained lit, voices bustling inside, audible even through the wooden doors.

Outside parked several black public coaches, with drivers wearing soft felt hats sitting behind, waiting idly for their employers.

He didn’t see any steampunk style here, as if the brilliance of the industrial era hadn’t reached this place at all.

He came to Shreveport naturally not by mistake.

He wasn’t a hopeless navigator and had visited Texas before. Though many changes occurred within twenty years, it wasn’t so drastic he couldn’t recognize it at all. Yet he chose a path opposite to Wolf Castle.

Once the proud captain of Yesterday’s Giant Ship, during the last Texas defense war, though he played a notable role, it fell short of his title.

Now, albeit barely, it’s a return home in glory; as Cherina’s employer, he thought he should bring Juliano a grand gift.

Not far away, a man tugged at the sheriff’s sleeve, "That’s him, a foreigner roaming the streets at night, sneaky, definitely a spy from the Texas Wolf Race."

"Hey, buddy, stay there, don’t move!"

Wow, this colony’s law enforcement is quite effective.

Does it reflect their coastal status, rather than lawless inland and western regions? Or because war is imminent, such border towns have awakened?

Losa chuckled, "I was just worrying about finding information, you came at the right time."

He walked straight toward the sheriff wearing copper buttons and a black uniform.

"Stop, come any closer and I’ll shoot!"

The sheriff drew his revolver from his waist, loudly warning.

Bang—

Black powder emitted wispy white smoke, revealing the unharmed man behind.

He opened his hand, tossing the yellow bullet to the ground, then revealed a gracious smile, "Guys, don’t worry, I’m just asking for directions."

He said, tossing the armor plate inscribed with the emblem of Saint George’s dragon-slaying crest from the saddle to the ground.

A moment later, the sheriff calmed down, looking at the man’s departing figure.

The giant horse’s shadow, under the streetlamp’s light, stretched long, resembling a demon from Hell.

"Sheriff, why would the evil fellow ask about the ’Saint George’s Knight Order’ residence? He isn’t planning to attack it, is he?"

The sheriff instinctively swallowed, "Whatever he plans to do, he’s doomed tonight; a big-shot has arrived at the knight’s residence, reportedly the Knight Commander personally appointed by Her Majesty the Empress!"