Chapter 2624: Chapter 875: Guardians of the Past, Transylvania Needs You! (Part 2)

General Flanders’ eldest son excitedly shouted: 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

"Didn’t you say that our family no longer has to bear the fate of the Blood Servant? Did they break their promise? Are they as shameless and evil as the other vampires?"

"No, William! This time is different."

Colonel Flanders... no, Brigadier General Flanders bent down to pick up his somewhat frightened daughter. He looked seriously at his son and said:

"This time, I’m not going to war for the future of the Blood Vulture Clan, nor am I stepping onto the battlefield as a Blood Servant, and it’s not for the so-called glory of entering midnight. Old Porter says this is the call of this land, and Sir Morphy is the embodiment of Transylvania’s will!

I must go there!

I must lead the warriors on this land to fight for what we need to protect. For me, that is you.

For them, that is their family and their lives.

I am donning my armor again as a husband, as a father, which is a more real and righteous reason than midnight’s grace, it is a responsibility that a man must bear in these chaotic times.

You have all seen the changes on this land with your own eyes. I believe Governor Morphy is different from other vampires, and I also believe in what Governor Milian has been advocating. Although I don’t quite understand it, I know that even if one-tenth of those promises became reality, it would be enough to lead Transylvania into a bright future it has never known!"

The General kissed his daughter and then looked at his son. He said:

"William, I will leave at midnight. Before I return, take care of your mother and sister, and remember to help at the Porter farm during the harvest."

"Alright, Father."

William replied with a pout:

"But you used to curse Old Porter when you were drunk, saying he killed many of your comrades. You were once a Blood Servant loyal to vampires, and he was an old church Witch Hunter. You were enemies who would fight to the death upon meeting, and now I’m supposed to call him ’sir’ and help with his family’s harvest.

This is too strange!"

"Hmm, indeed it is strange when you think about it."

General Flanders nodded in agreement and muttered softly:

"It’s as strange as what’s happening on this land, but... it’s a good thing, right? Having one more friend is certainly better than having one more enemy."

As General Flanders was saying goodbye to his family, Old Porter returned to his own farm.

He packed his gear swiftly, just as he used to do when setting off for a campaign. He took out his Witch Hunter leather armor, put on the well-washed and worn armor.

He took his Hunter’s Sword from the wall, fastened a Witch Hunting revolver at his waist, and finally strapped on the utility belt for carrying potions, poisons, and throwing knives.

The standard image of a Witch Hunter appeared in the mirror. Porter tidied himself up in the mirror, then shouldered his bag and prepared to leave the house where he had lived for half a year. He planned to leave quietly, not wanting to disturb the two resting children, but as soon as he went out, he saw the tearful faces of the refugee siblings he adopted standing at the door.

The boy named Sam bit his lip, while the girl named Lisa stretched out her arms to block his way.

The child was mute, but her eyes sparkled with fear. Perhaps because her parents died in the chaos of the Ten-Year War, in her eyes, the way Old Porter was dressed looked just like someone walking towards death.

"What are you crying about! I’m not dead yet, is it bad luck?"

You can’t expect an old Witch Hunter who never studied and spent most of his life fighting to have kind words. All of Old Porter’s gentleness had disappeared in the wind with the disaster of the old church’s collapse.

He harshly scolded his foster son and daughter just as he always did:

"Stay at home, take care of the crops and the animals. When the harvest comes, Mayor Flanders’ family will come to help, and remember to be polite to them."

"But you always tell us stories from the past, in those stories, you as a Witch Hunter and Mayor Flanders as a Blood Servant were mortal enemies. Perhaps we shouldn’t accept their help..."

Sam argued.

Children’s world is always so simple, black or white.

This made Old Porter sigh.

He began to regret telling them stories of his "martial years" when these two kids pestered him for stories.

Should have told them that chaotic "White Knight’s Tale" made up by those foreigners, which even included his outlaw name, "The Wind Eagle of Izumo."

"The past is the past, and the present is the present. You can’t always mistake the past for the present..."

Old Porter tried to explain some truths, but the more sensitive Lisa had already rushed over and hugged his leg, refusing to let go. This mute little girl was stubborn, leaving Old Porter, a seasoned Witch Hunter who had killed many, at a loss.

Helpless, he took a seed and handed it to Lisa, saying to her:

"Plant it in the farm tonight. When it blooms, I’ll be back. I’m not lying to you. This time, I’m just going as an instructor, not to fight. After all, I’m old now... When I return, I’ll send you, this stubborn girl, to study at the Crimson Castle.

Save myself from being bothered by you all the time."

Lisa looked skeptical.

But she carefully put the seed in her pocket, then raised her left hand and extended her pinky finger, which made Old Porter disdainful.

I don’t know which boring foreigner spread this "pinky promise" custom throughout Transylvania so that even Lisa learned it.

"Fine, fine, I promise."

Old Porter extended the pinky of his mechanical arm to make a hook with his foster daughter, and outside, the sound of Wind Eagles flapping their wings, along with Ambo’s call, was audible.

His former teammate had come to pick him up.

He heard that Ambo had found a foreign boyfriend...

Pah, those fair-skinned guys are great at lying. He’d better warn Ambo to be careful.

"I’m going. Take care of home."

Old Porter waved to the two children, then shouldered his bag and stepped out of the house. This simple gesture unexpectedly filled this tough guy with a complex sensation.

He looked back, seeing the two children, one big and one small, waving at the door.

Lisa was hugging the seed tightly, while tears still glistened at the corner of Sam’s eye.

Damn it!

How can a man be so fragile!

Looks like he hadn’t hit him hard enough before. Perhaps after peace returned, he’d send this guy to train with the White Oak Battle Group?

He cursed silently.

Yet it seemed he also saw other figures beside the two children—his family who had passed away in the ten-year war, waving goodbye to him, just like on that night ten years ago...

Would this ending be the same as before?

He questioned himself, turning around with a wave and taking a deep breath as he approached the Wind Eagle waiting for him.

In terms of protecting family, he had already failed once, hadn’t he?

Theoretically, even if someone was unlucky, they shouldn’t fail the same task twice in a row, so this time he definitely wouldn’t let these two hopeful kids down!

In Avalon’s name!

Anyone who wants to break into this soon-to-be-harvested farm and cause trouble would be my enemy!