Chapter 2051 - 550: The Land of Knights' Last Knight (Part 2)

This is fundamentally different from nationality in the information age.

In the year 1054, the Campbell Duchy had only just stepped into the social stage of "subjects by birth"; getting a nationality was mostly for tax exemption and inheritance rights, not for "permanent residence" and leeching welfare.

Still, this can be understood as the embryonic form of citizenship.

And for the Adventurers of Thunder City, this was almost the best shortcut—aside from marrying locals—to obtain legal citizenship on this rich land.

Just as this gigantic war machine was roaring, a very out-of-place carriage slowly rolled into the dusty camp.

The carriage was carefully painted black, with shock-absorbing cork wrapped around the wheels, making it stand out sharply in the chaotic encampment.

Like a poodle that wandered into a wolf pack by mistake.

The door opened, a pair of polished leather shoes stepped onto the mud-spattered earth, and Sir Dickbin climbed down from the carriage with a look of disgust, as if offended by the lack of a red carpet.

He was the Ryan Kingdom's special envoy stationed at Campbell Castle, his jet-black hair slicked back immaculately, like it had been licked by a cow's tongue.

Time had etched lines at the corners of his eyes, but it had not managed to strip the pampered greasiness from his skin.

Seeing the protocol officer approaching, he shoved the fellow aside with one hand, pulled a comb from his pocket to tidy his hair, and cursed as he spoke.

"Get your filthy hands off me, I don't want to hear a single useless word! Take me to Your Majesty! At once! Now!"

The protocol officer was dumbfounded.

He figured he hadn't even reached out his hand yet and somehow still got shoved for no reason. Still, he bowed slightly out of politeness—at least he couldn't afford to be as rude as the Ryan Nobles.

"Very well, sir."

Inside the command tent, Edward was discussing details of the frontline deployment with Sir Wesley and a group of officers.

They needed to prioritize opening a supply line to the High Mountain Kingdom to rendezvous with their Dwarf brothers there.

Rather than sending an envoy with a cold piece of parchment, it would be much more sincere to use gunfire and cannon to show the Duchy's resolve.

Dwarf Scouts were surely observing the Duchy's troop movements along the border right now; it wouldn't be long before their Messenger arrived.

Just then, the tent flap lifted and a runner rushed in.

"Your Majesty! Sir Dickbin has come to visit."

Sir Wesley frowned.

"Who let that guy in?"

The runner stammered for a long time, unable to give a clear answer.

It wasn't that someone had specifically let the man in; it was more that no one dared to stop him. After all, nominally, the Ryan Kingdom was still Campbell's Sovereign Country, and that envoy was a Noble.

Edward raised an eyebrow. Instead of making things hard for the messenger, he smiled and said:

"Let him in."

He hadn't expected the Ryan envoy to move even faster than the Dwarfs living on the neighboring mountain, arriving at the front line only one day later than himself.

Back when he dispatched troops to Twilight Province, this Sir Dickbin hadn't even farted once.

"Yes, sir!"

The runner let out a breath of relief and jogged away.

Not long after, the tent flap lifted again. Sir Dickbin strode inside, bringing a wave of perfume with him.

Several officers frowned.

Not because of the smell of perfume on him, but because of the envoy's rudeness. He showed none of the courtesy expected of him; instead, he was so arrogantly full of himself it was baffling, bowing only slightly, with condescending pride written all over his face.

"Your Grace, I bring greetings to you on behalf of the great His Majesty Theoden!"

That smooth, sharp voice sounded more like a lizard than a lizard itself; even Mr. Sak Jifeng's voice would be more pleasant than his.

Edward didn't look up; his eyes stayed on the map as he answered carelessly.

"On behalf of the Campbell people, I greet you and that thing behind you."

The instant he heard this, Sir Dickbin's fake smile froze, a shade of anger flashing over his greasy, shining face.

"Is this how you show courtesy to your Sovereign Country? Lord Edward, I thought the Campbell Duchy was the very model of the Land of Knights. I never imagined it would be so lacking in manners."

"Knights of the Land of Knights only show respect to true Knights."

Edward finally raised his head and tossed the pencil in his hand onto the map.

"As for you… Sir Dickbin, if you've come on behalf of Theoden for a nostalgic chat, don't bother. My patience with him has long since run out. However, your timing is actually perfect—I'd like you to take those maimed Ryan people outside Cold Crow City back home; they are, after all, your subjects."

"My lord, I don't have time to play this hypocritical 'loving-the-people-like-your-own-children' game with you. There's no need to put on a show for me."

Sir Dickbin snorted coldly, adjusted a collar that had no wrinkles to speak of, and his tone turned aggressively sharp.

"I have come this time to demand answers from the Campbell family on behalf of the Devalu family. Your army has violated the ancient treaty by advancing toward the Ten Thousand Ridges Mountain Range without authorization. This is an act both inhumane and unjust."

"Inhumane and unjust," huh.

Sir Wesley chuckled softly, the officers around them broke into amused murmurs, while Sir Bertrand fell silent for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh.

Ever since he slashed down General Hanor, the "Duchy's Spear," he had always carried a sense of guilt, believing he had personally shattered the honor of the Land of Knights.

Yet seeing this envoy from the so-called Land of Knights, that guilt in his heart eased quite a bit… Behind Earl Derek stood such a grotesque creature.