When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#516 - Putsilio arrives at Flying Castle

At midday in autumn, though murky sunlight filtered down, the air was still filled with a dry, cold aura.

Beneath the sun, the towering walls of Flywater Fortress cast thick shadows, covering the suburban land.

Dust swirled on the wide avenue, the low thud of hooves mingling with the clatter of metal armor.

Groups of elite mercenaries and local conscripts marched in formation, flanked by high-ranking knights and their attendant squires, numbering nearly a thousand.

The Broken Horn bull sigil, representing the most esteemed family of Thornsward, fluttered over the Thousand River Valley.

After nearly two months of preparation, the first contingent of reinforcements from the Oslah family finally arrived at Flywater Fortress at noon in late November.

Watching the dust swirling in the sky, Prince Condé subtly snorted.

Although he needed the assistance of the Oslah family, he hadn't forgotten that they were the ones who funded Blue Wasp,夺走 and夺走 his throne.

But at this moment...

His face was stern, his eyes sharp, yet he wore a well-crafted smile, concealing all resentment and arrogance.

This was the demeanor he had cultivated through years of enduring humiliation; even when facing the nobles who had ruined his family, he still had to put on this polite smile.

Among the many approaching armored infantrymen, a dozen cavalrymen guarded a young man dressed in a splendid, gold-trimmed fine woolen hunting suit.

This man was naturally Puzzrio, the son of Duke Omes, the head of the renowned Oslah family of Thornsward.

Facing the welcoming party, Puzzrio straightened his back, though deep down he already regretted and felt uneasy about this trip.

Especially when he saw the giant-like Prince Condé, his confident smile almost faltered.

Puzzrio's build was by no means small, but he still appeared so thin and short before Prince Condé's nearly three-meter height.

"Welcome to Flywater Fortress, my friend Puzzrio," Prince Condé said with a hearty laugh as he stepped forward, giving the dismounting Puzzrio a huge hug.

"It is my honor to see you, Your Highness... hic... representing the Oslah family, I bring you a gift." Puzzrio's face, turning purple from being squeezed so tightly by Prince Condé's shoulders, wore an impeccable smile. "A dragon-blood horse foal."

"Oh?" Prince Condé's original hearty smile gained a few genuine elements.

You see, for a titled knight like Prince Condé, who was only one step away from entering the Grand Knight rank, they already exhibited some of the characteristics of a Grand Knight.

The first was being overly tall and strong; mounts that could carry them were unsuitable as warhorses, while qualified warhorses could not carry them.

Prince Condé always gave the impression of a fat man riding a dog no matter what horse he rode, and only dragon-blood horses, which were naturally tall, could bear his weight.

A dragon-blood horse mostly cost over a thousand gold pounds, a price Prince Condé could afford.

But the problem was that dragon-blood horses were tributes to the Royal Family of Laya. Although you could buy one for 800-1000 gold pounds, not everyone was qualified to buy one.

As a remnant of the former dynasty, Prince Condé had to make an appointment first if he wanted to buy a dragon-blood horse, and then wait three to five years for one to trickle out from the nobles' fingers to him.

He had waited five years for one before, and it was only because of the old Pope's consideration.

But in the blink of an eye, it was accidentally shot through the belly by Hohen using the orichalcum greatbow Ferdinand.

"Good horse... it's just a pity it's too small," Prince Condé said regretfully, stroking the mane of the foal whose mouth was restrained by an iron muzzle.

Such a foal would have to wait at least a year and a half before it could be ridden, which would not benefit the current war.

Even as an immature dragon-blood horse, it was already about the size of the warhorses next to it, but unfortunately, this size could not bear Prince Condé.

This did not prevent Prince Condé from loving this foal as an equestrian enthusiast.

He forgot himself as he discussed the foal with Puzzrio, almost forgetting the main business.

Fortunately, the accompanying Lacounio did not forget. Sitting on horseback, his gaze swept over the army in front of him, and he slowly frowned.

There seemed to be fewer than four thousand people here.

Although it was a new force, it was not quite what Lacounio had imagined.

"Lord Puzzrio, is this the first batch of reinforcements?"

"To be precise, it is an army to avenge Countess Marika," Puzzrio straightened the clothes that had been wrinkled by Prince Condé. "This is not the first batch, but the entire army that came with me."

Prince Condé was caressing the little foal, not even looking this way.

"Only these four thousand people?" Lacounio sized up the young man.

"Of course, more than four thousand people." Puzzrio first saluted Lacounio. After both sides introduced their families and identities, he continued.

"My younger brother, Derrick, will lead a thousand family private soldiers to Brokenstone Plain, and the local nobles will form a coalition army, with a minimum of three thousand and a maximum of six thousand.

At that time, we will take the opportunity to attack the Savior Army and borrow the road to Upper River County. Melia will definitely not agree, and we will take the opportunity to launch an attack to help you contain them."

The army of Brokenstone Plain...

A glint flashed in Lacounio's eyes. Ludwig was dead, the Grey Knights were attacking Deerhorn Township, plus the army of Brokenstone Plain.

If Puzzrio wasn't here, Lacounio would have wanted to immediately return to look at the map and sand table. He seemed to have discovered an excellent opportunity.

Prince Condé, who had finished being intimate with the little dragon-blood horse, turned around and patted the hoof prints on his thigh: "What are we doing talking so much here? We'll talk about the main business later. Come, come, you gave me a good horse, and I'll give you good wine.

Hey, you, move the last barrel of blue-blood wine from the wine cellar, the iced one.

Remember to lead this foal to my palace. I want to raise it myself. Lord Puzzrio, please come with me."

Puzzrio, Prince Condé, and Lacounio left the main force, while Barnifos led the army towards the planned camp.

Back in the palace, the kitchen was already preparing a banquet, but neither side was too particular. The Layan nobles' habit was to value dinner and despise lunch.

In their opinion, only those who till the land valued lunch because they had to work in the afternoon.

These old Blue Wasp banner children were born to enjoy themselves. When their fathers stormed into Longsong City with King Virg Newman, they had done all the work they needed to do in this lifetime.

Why work your ass off for someone else? Are you trying to die?

So at lunch, there were only a few cream pastries, filling dried meat, and a few plates of fruit on the table.

After a glass of iced wine, Puzzrio unbuttoned his collar and leaned back on the carved soft chair in the tea room.

He squinted and glanced secretly. Seeing that Prince Condé showed an appreciative and relaxed expression, he picked up the copper cup and took another sip, covering his smug smile.

Starting from the suburbs, he realized that Prince Condé seemed to be the kind of rough person who definitely liked this informal style.

Skillfully switching demeanor and style was one of the reasons why Puzzrio was loved and recognized by most core nobles.

Both were born as noble children, and their hobbies were similar on weekdays: the ceramics of Brandmark City, the crystal glass of Anchorport, the tea trees of the Zeeland Islands, and the very smooth girls of Longsong City.

In stark contrast to the two, Lacounio did not touch a drop of alcohol, holding a charcoal pencil and writing and drawing on the parchment map.

It wasn't until the two had talked almost enough that Lacounio stopped the charcoal pencil in his hand: "I wonder, Lord Puzzrio, what is the appeal of coming to Thousand River Valley?"

Prince Condé and Puzzrio both put away their original smiles. They knew that this was getting down to business.

"Of course, it is to avenge Countess Marika..."

"Lord Puzzrio, my palace is as solid as a rock, and no one can get in." Interrupting Puzzrio's speech, Prince Condé pointed to the serving maids and servants. "They are all illiterate mutes. You can say whatever you want.

Don't say avenging Countess Marika anymore. This kind of words can't even fool children. Isn't it better for us to talk frankly?"