"Sir, I think you need a towel." A hand holding a towel reached over from the side. The Expedition Knight Kaled’s face darkened, and he barely managed a smile at the corner of his mouth as he sat down next to Bertrand. "I thought this was going to be a bandit suppression trip, but now it seems more like we’re a team from a relief organization."

"The mortals face far more than you knights can imagine, Lord Kaled," Bertrand said, looking at the campfire in front of him with a hint of self-mockery. "Just like the well-known saying about why peasants don’t eat cake—many of the Master Knights don’t understand the hardships of the peasants."

"The peasants don’t have bread to eat? Well, let them eat cake!"

—Former Knight King "Tyrant" John II’s Queen "Beauty" Mary

"Under the knights’ rule, peasants face heavy taxes, but they can at least ask knights for protection. In times of rebellion, however, peasants must arm themselves for self-protection. There are too many enemies in the mountains—Green Skins, Beastmen, bandits, and even some Undead. Anything you find insignificant is a deadly enemy of the peasants trying to survive," Bertrand said to Kaled. "In winter, peasants lack food, as do the Beastmen and Green Skins, bandits and thieves. Under normal circumstances, they could try their luck in the mountains or forests, but in such a winter, they can only hide in the mountain villages and wait to starve. As you know, we even encountered a foraging Two-legged Flying Dragon on the road."

"Now I understand why the Count had us bring extra grain when we set out," Remon, who had obviously been crying, said as he wiped his eyes. This Long Halberd Company Commander asked, "Is this the fate of the peasants? Heaven knows whether I would have been hanged or starved to death if I hadn’t escaped from Leonais with my mother and brother."

Not far away, carts carried the bodies of peasants from the mountain village. The Dwarves dug a pit, preparing to cremate the peasants collectively. The initial estimate was that two to three hundred peasants had died, leaving over a hundred survivors huddled anxiously in the corners of the mountain village, awaiting judgment.

"What’s so strange about that?" The tall Ugoer leader Ivan held a bowl of pork soup. Although his Low Gothic was not very standard, it was understandable. "Do you know what it’s like north of the Linsk River in Kislev?"

Without waiting for a response from Kaled and the others, Ivan continued on his own. "Endless war. North of the Linsk River, there are hundreds of Ugoer Tribes. We pasture and hunt on the wasteland, and can only grow a small amount of food with the aid of Ice Witch magic. Every year, we battle the Barbarian Tribes from the Northern Wasteland, every single year! Victory is not something to rejoice over, because we know the Barbarian Raiders will return the next year. If we fail, our end is destruction, for the Barbarians know no clemency. They will kill all of us—old, women, and children—take our cattle and sheep, burn our homes, and drink all our vodka."

As he mentioned the vodka, Ivan’s face twisted with extreme hatred, turning red as he cursed in Ugoer.

"According to these peasants, beyond this mountain lies another mountain village with more people, and there are five or six similar villages nearby," Sir Bertrand murmured. "We may not have enough provisions. Hopefully, Duke Hagen will help us."

"Survival is the sole trophy in our fight against darkness," Kaled murmured. The Expedition Knight suddenly felt a faint sense of understanding—the Radiance of the Knightly Path. He added, "But we cannot waver because of it. Knights are the final defense between defenseless civilians and endless evil."

Clutching Durandal with both hands, Kaled suddenly felt he understood something. He raised the longsword, letting the hilt touch his forehead. "Do you think so too, Jules?"

But what answered Kaled was a Dwarf’s shout: "Enemy attack! There’s a Green Skin Tribe in the distance! It’s Green-skinned War Boar Riders!"

"The enemy is about a hundred and fifty strong!"

"Prepare for battle! Prepare for battle!"

Everyone immediately stood to prepare for combat, but Kaled’s face broke into a cold smile. He gestured for everyone to sit. "You don’t need to go. Give me twenty minutes, I’ll be right back."

The Expedition Knight mounted his horse, let out a roar, and charged out of the mountain village alone. To the Dwarves’ shock, the Expedition Knight felled five or six Green-skinned War Pigs consecutively, charging toward the heart of the Green Skins.

"Aaaaaah! Feel the wrath of the Lady! Green-skin scum!"

Fifteen minutes later.

Kaled returned holding the heads of a Green-skinned Warlord and several Green-skinned Big Guys, blood dripping from his hand. The Warlord’s face was still frozen in fear. "The problem is resolved."

"The problem is not solved," Belgar appeared from the side, the Dwarf frowning and impolitely addressing Sir Kelson. "Is this the promise your master, Duke Hagen, made to the Dwarves? A bunch of half-starved peasants? Heaven knows how many we can save?"

"This... I didn’t know things would turn out like this, King Belgar. We’ve sent messengers to contact Duke Hagen, and he will give you a satisfactory answer," Sir Kelson said awkwardly. This matter was not for him to decide, and he hadn’t expected this situation to occur.

"Green Skins eat people, Beastmen eat people, Chaos eats people, and people, too, eat people. God of Nature Tal above, may you guide us so that humanity does not tear itself apart over such trivial matters," Bertrand closed his eyes in pain as he picked up the Holy Emblem of the God of Nature Tal and prayed silently, "My scimitar and bow exist to protect and serve the Count."

......

After two weeks, the bandit-suppression force swept through several rebel peasant settlements near the Black Stone Stronghold like a storm. The Human and Dwarf Alliance Army no longer hesitated. Upon reaching the stronghold, they demanded surrender. Those rebel peasants who refused were bombarded by Dwarf Cannons until the defenders were forced to surrender.

Subsequently, around two thousand rebellious peasants were rounded up and surrounded by a massive army. Duke Hagen of Jisoleox arrived on the scene, sitting on one side with a face like thunder, while King Belgar of Eight Peaks sat expressionless on the other.

"Oh, heavens! The final moment has arrived!"

"The gallows, it must be the gallows!"

"Our fate is sealed!"

Most of the peasants were crying in despair, awaiting their judgment. In many peasants’ minds, today was their end.

But contrary to their expectations, a young Long Halberdier stepped forward. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have some bad news to deliver," he said.

"Before I deliver this bad news, let me introduce myself. I am Remon, from Leonais!"

"Unfortunately, I must tell you that the Duke has decreed all rebel peasants must face the gallows, and the sentence is to be carried out immediately!" Remon announced loudly and cruelly, affirming Duke Hagen’s decision. "Under no circumstances is peasant rebellion tolerated by Brittania’s laws! The gallows! All shall hang, without exception."

The crowd erupted into wails, peasants cursing and screaming in fury, many clutching family members and sobbing uncontrollably.

"However..." After saying this, a reluctant expression crept onto Duke Hagen’s ashen face. "Unfortunately, the judgment of you rebels may be postponed or even canceled for now."

"???", The rebellious peasants stood there, bewildered, their cries and curses halting.

"I’ve made an agreement with King Belgar. This honorable Dwarf friend needs manpower to help him farm and harvest. In exchange, he would protect these men," Duke Hagen said "seriously." "This puts me in a difficult position because I have no manpower to allocate to King Belgar!"

Belgar made a show of raising his Iron Hammer. "Yes, Duke, you cannot ignore our agreement!"

"So I have no choice!" Duke Hagen looked pained, his mind occupied with other thoughts.

Is my acting up to par?