Chapter 73: The Princess’ Interest

Flina’s interest was instantly piqued, and she straightened in her seat.

Everyone in the royal capital knew that Owen, the “Tattooed Count,” possessed exceptionally keen judgment and set an extremely high bar. He rarely paid attention to mediocre individuals, let alone recommended them to the princess. Not long ago, Viscount Finn—who had been nominated for captain of the princess’ guard—was rejected by him outright, despite being the grandson of Archduke Krit, the so-called “fence-sitter” among the northern provinces.

“After receiving the report about the attack on Rosenberg, I became very curious about that unusual victory, so I conducted an investigation myself.” Owen put away his smile, recalling the information he had gathered. “I am almost certain that this ‘Pioneer Knight’ is the true central figure behind the defense of Rosenberg.” Looking at Flina, there was even a hint of amazement in his eyes. “He is very mysterious, as if he appeared out of nowhere. According to Klose, the current captain of the Rosenberg Guard, he had previously been nothing more than an obscure acting militia captain in Shire Town. But during the battle of Rosenberg, he stepped forward and led fewer than three hundred guards to annihilate an undead force ten times their size using a… rather inconceivable tactic. He is now hailed by the citizens as the ‘Hero of the City.’ After that, his actions became highly purposeful. He only stopped briefly in Veli City to resupply before rushing straight to Demont Province and heading directly for Coldsteel City. The rest, Your Highness, you already know.”

“Ten times?!” Flina rose in astonishment. She was not unfamiliar with military matters. Victory against superior numbers was already difficult—against an enemy ten times larger, it bordered on legend. “He achieved a ten-to-one casualty ratio? That… even the most elite units of the Southern Legion could never accomplish such a feat!”

“You are mistaken, Your Highness.” Owen shook his head.

A trace of disappointment flickered across Flina’s face, and her gaze drifted back to the letter. “I suppose so. How could such a savior-like hero suddenly appear in Elfin…”

“In fact, the ratio was far greater than ten to one.” Owen suppressed a smile, his eyes full of admiration. “According to Captain Klose’s report, the combined number of dead and severely wounded in the Rosenberg guard was less than thirty percent of their total force.”

The letter slipped gently from Flina’s hand. Her lips parted slightly, and for a moment, she could not speak.

Fewer than a hundred casualties to wipe out two thousand undead?

What did that even mean? A mere local guard unit?

Such a casualty ratio was something only the royal guards of Alde Territory could hope to achieve.

Seeing his student’s stunned expression, Owen added with a sly smile, “Oh, and according to various rumors I’ve collected, aside from his exceptional tactical command, he is also a swordsman of unfathomable skill. Considering how widely known he is in Rosenberg now, and how recent all this is, the credibility of those rumors is quite high.” He paused, then added meaningfully, “And apparently… he’s quite handsome.”

Flina felt her heartbeat quicken uncontrollably, her cheeks warming. She shot her teacher an annoyed glance.

Composing herself, she sat back down and took a sip of tea to conceal her reaction.

“Then… Teacher, how should we handle him for now?” she asked, quickly steering the conversation back to business. “After all, he has executed a noble of the kingdom. From a legal standpoint, that is a grave crime. The noble councils in both the north and south are already in uproar. More than twenty noble families have jointly submitted petitions, most of them from Demont Province, demanding that the royal family take the lead in suppressing this ‘bandit uprising.’”

“Hmph. A group of opportunists trying to force our hand.” Owen looked at her, his gaze filled with approval. “But on this matter, haven’t you already made your decision, Your Highness?” He smiled. “As I said, he is a clever man who understands the political landscape very well. His actions may seem reckless, even offending all the old nobility, but he knows that we royalists—and you, in particular—would never truly move against him. That is why he dares to act first and report later. It appears to be a gamble, but in truth, he has been confident from the start. Now, through this letter, he is confirming our stance, exchanging his value for royal support and recognition. This is a declaration. Through his actions, he is telling us that he is a blade willing to be wielded by you.”

Flina fell silent, her fingers unconsciously tracing the rim of her teacup. After a while, as if reaching a decision, she asked from another angle, “If… we consider this purely from a legal perspective, how should Mr. Nolan’s actions be defined?”

Owen’s expression turned serious. “He concealed his origins and remains of unknown background. He assumed command of the Rosenberg Guard without authorization and privately executed a titled noble of the kingdom… At nearly every step within the kingdom, he has trampled upon the very foundation of the Lionheart Code.” Seeing Flina’s delicate brows knit tightly together, Owen suddenly smiled again and added the rest, “Yet his very existence—and everything he has done—perfectly embodies the spirit of the Lionheart Code: to protect the kingdom and safeguard its people.”

Flina’s frown eased, and a faint smile of relief appeared on her face.

She rose and walked to her dressing table, taking out a silver iris brooch that represented her personal identity. Then she opened a drawer and retrieved a letter she had prepared in advance.

She handed both the letter and the brooch to Owen. “Let’s proceed this way, Teacher.”

Owen accepted them and gave a formal hand-over-heart salute, a refined smile curving his lips. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

***

“Why is it taking so long…”

Little Donnie sat somewhat stiffly in the front hall of Alde Palace. Guards in gold-and-red armor stood watch at every passage, their vigilant gazes sweeping the area from time to time, making him deeply uneasy.

Just as his impatience began to grow, the sound of a door opening echoed from the entrance.

Turning toward it, he saw an elegant nobleman with intricate patterns tattooed on his face striding toward him, followed by two royal guards.

Well-proportioned, steady in his steps—a skilled fighter. That was Little Donnie’s first impression.

Owen, for his part, recognized the messenger at a glance. In the royal palace, Little Donnie’s attire was rather out of place.

Though he appeared young, Owen’s seasoned eye noted the calluses on his hands and the rhythm of his breathing. This boy possessed strength approaching the Silver rank.

Seeing the mix of curiosity and forced composure in the boy’s eyes, Owen was suddenly reminded of his own first visit to the palace. Time flies, he thought with a faint, self-mocking smile. “You are the messenger?” he asked. “Sent by Mr. Nolan?”

The man’s politeness—addressing Nolan as “Mr.”—left a good first impression on Little Donnie. He sprang to his feet and gave a crisp military salute. “Yes! Mr. Nolan is my big brother—I mean, my lord!”

Owen seemed amused by his reaction. “No need to be nervous. I’m curious—how did you find the royalists’ contact point?”

“Uh…” Little Donnie scratched his head. “I don’t know. My lord gave the order, and I just carried it out.”

“I see.” A sharp glint flashed in Owen’s eyes, but he asked no further questions. Taking a sealed envelope from his coat, he handed it over. “You’ve done well. This is what your lord has been waiting for. Go on.”

Little Donnie accepted it with both hands and carefully tucked it inside his breastplate. After confirming it was secure, he saluted again. “Thank you!”

“You should thank Her Highness.” Owen nodded, watching as two royal guards escorted the boy out. 

“Even his subordinates are remarkable… The younger generation of the royalists is being outshone,” he murmured, then turned and left.

***

One week later, Coldsteel City.

More than seven days had passed since Baron Haus was executed, and the city was undergoing tremendous change.

In front of the city hall, crowds gathered daily around the notice board, making it livelier than a marketplace.

“Look, look! It’s true! Tax exemption for one year! And from the second year, taxes are only half of what they used to be!”

“My goodness! The benefits for enlisting are incredible! Double pay in the first month, plus food and lodging!”

“Could this new lord be an angel sent by the Mother Goddess?”

“More than that! I heard the lord’s mansion is recruiting servants, and the pay has doubled compared to before!”

The crowd buzzed with excitement and joy. Smiles filled every face. These tangible benefits quickly erased their fear of the former lord and replaced it with support and admiration for the new one.

At that moment, the rapid sound of hoofbeats approached from afar.

A young rider galloped through the crowd, shouting as he passed, “Make way! Make way! Urgent message for the lord’s residence!”

People quickly parted, watching his retreating figure with awe and envy.

“Look, it’s the lord’s messenger!”

“So young, yet already entrusted with such duties—he must be one of the lord’s trusted aides!”

“How impressive!”

Amid the murmurs of admiration, Little Donnie straightened his back, his face filled with pride. Urging his horse forward, he rode swiftly toward the lord’s residence.