Chapter 164. Getting Her Out of Trouble
Looking at the knight before her with a greatsword strapped to his back, Fran could tell just from the heavy sound of his footsteps that the weight he was carrying was imnse.
First the small one ca, then the bigger one, and after the bigger one cos the old one... Fran grumbled inwardly.
On the surface, however, she stood where she was, her longsword still angled toward the ground, without making a move.
That reaction took Eric sowhat by surprise, and this ti, a trace of amusent entered his voice.
“You see a knight before you, and you still dare keep your sword raised? Aren’t you afraid of dying?”
Fran still did not move. She stood there like a pillar, waiting for him to attack instead, and that behavior actually won her a bit of Knight Eric’s admiration.
“You’ve got guts. Real guts... But in the end, you did kill one of my soldiers and injure another. Fine. Kneel down right now and admit your fault, and I’ll let you go.”
Fran still made no response. Instead, she raised her other hand and adjusted her black robe.
That gesture thoroughly enraged Knight Eric. He admired people with courage, yes—but they were not allowed to show courage toward him.
“Good! Good! Good—” Eric dragged out the last syllable for a long ti as he pulled the greatsword off his back and swung it a few tis with one hand.
The surrounding crowd did not dare make a sound. All of them fell silent together. So even covered their eyes, unable to bear watching what would happen next.
They all knew what was coming. Fran would be smashed in two by a single blow from Knight Eric’s sword...
A knight of the formal rank was not soone just anyone could stand against.
The people present, including the soldiers, all knew exactly how terrifying a knight lord was.
Saying one man could match a hundred was already an understatent. Those knight lords could lift several tons and still walk forward slowly under the weight.
Anyone who defied a knight generally did not live long. They were crushed to death beneath the overwhelming force of a knight’s power.
Just then, another set of footsteps reached the ears of the crowd.
This ti, the footsteps carried a light, brisk rhythm, drawing closer and closer to the battlefield that was just about to erupt.
“Eric, he’s one of my n. Could you do a favor and let this one go?”
A tall man with short red hair, about thirty years old, stepped into the crowd. He wore a light set of leather armor covered in old signs of wear.
“Oh—” Eric clearly recognized the newcor. He dropped that low, oppressive tone and instead said in a louder voice, “So it’s you. Finley, the one who surrendered over to us. Since he’s one of your n, then of course I have to give you so face.”
“After all, we’re both in Duke Theodore’s knightly order now. Our duke does treat those who surrender as his own people too.”
Eric put away his sword, as though he had lost all interest in the matter, and turned to leave.
“And one more thing...” Eric suddenly stopped midway as he walked away and turned his head slightly toward Finley.
“I hope you and your n can win the duel.”
“Your subordinate is quite strong. Looks like Whiteflower Territory’s next lord ought to be you.”
Leaving only those words behind, Eric departed directly, paying Fran no further attention.
Fran watched as Eric simply left, then raised a brow and turned to look at Finley, who had helped her out of the situation.
“Thank you,” she said first in that low male voice.
Even though she had not been afraid of that knight attacking her just now, she still appreciated the help.
After all, the whole fight had broken out in a thoroughly baffling way. First, a soldier had taken a liking to her horse, tried to seize it by force, and attacked her.
Then the captain in charge of that soldier had co to duel her, and after losing, their superior—a genuine knight—had appeared here as well.
She was honestly starting to wonder whether, after beating that knight too, Duke Theodore himself would show up in front of her and demand a duel.
Finley coughed twice, then said,
“Could we talk sowhere private?”
“Yes.”
Leading her horse, Fran followed Finley along the street for a while until they arrived before a house enclosed by a wall.
“Co in. You can tie your horse inside the wall.”
Fran rely looped the rope around one of the railings, then followed Finley into the house.
Inside, several other soldiers were playing a small dice ga. When they saw the two enter, they hurriedly stood up.
“Lord Finley...”
“Who’s this?” Only then did they notice Fran following behind him, and they asked curiously.
“A friend. Go back to what you were doing.”
Finley led Fran to a room on the second floor. It was obvious that things had once been moved out of this room.
The whole room was covered in the scratches and marks left behind by long-term habitation, and there were many patches where the color differed in depth and shade.
Aside from the door, the room had only a single wooden window connecting it to the outside, with a wooden shutter that could be opened and closed by a small chanism to the side.
“What is it?” Fran asked, a little impatiently.
Finley scratched his head and said to Fran,
“Sorry. I should’ve explained it more clearly from the start. I want to ask you to help with sothing.”
He then explained to Fran about the upcoming lordship duel in Whiteflower Territory and said that he hoped Fran could participate as one of his retainers.
“Why are you asking ?” Fran’s very first question left Finley looking sowhat embarrassed.
“I only have the few soldiers downstairs under . You saw them yourself.”
Finley genuinely wanted to compete for the position of lord of Whiteflower Territory. He had confidence that his own strength was second to none among the other knights.
But when it ca to retainers, he truly had no solution. After he had surrendered, Duke Theodore had transferred away his soldiers, leaving only those few n under his command.
Those soldiers were not even as capable as the squad leader Fran had beaten earlier, and among Knight Eric’s n, there were more than a dozen squad leaders of that level. In fact, that level would not even rank in the top ten among Eric’s subordinates.
That was exactly where Finley’s embarrassnt lay. He truly could not find anyone else. If he brought those few soldiers with him, they would most likely be beaten senseless by the carefully selected supporting retainers on the other side.
In truth, the strength of the knights themselves was all fairly similar. The strongest was not all that much stronger than the weakest.
In an actual fight, the difference was only that one side might have slightly better odds of winning.
And that was when the importance of equipnt and retainers beca apparent. Finley had truly run out of options, which was why he had resorted to pulling soone off the street.
“If the victor wins, does that an he becos the lord of Whiteflower Territory?” Fran asked, confirming it with Finley.
“Yes,” Finley answered without hesitation.
Fran did not agree at once. Instead, she thought of the territorial token in her possession, rolled her eyes thoughtfully, and continued,
“I can agree to it. After all, I am an adventurer. But I’d like to discuss the paynt with you.”
An extrely awkward expression imdiately appeared on Finley’s face, as though she had touched on a subject he was ashad to answer.
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