However, the Kingdom seed blind to this, and its rule over the mountain people beca increasingly oppressive.
Count Rangdenier just listened carefully to the guest's account of their difficulties, always wearing a smile without expressing his opinion. For soone of his age, a smile seed to make him look like a kind old man, but the guest sitting below dared not think so—most of those who did ended up with a bad fate.
The mountain people's envoy was about to make his request when the bell to Count Rangdenier's left hand rang.
The count's expression shifted slightly; this was the first ti he couldn't keep the smile on his face all afternoon.
He recalled how long it had been since he received urgent information.
The old man frowned slightly and stood up, but he didn't appear rude at all. He nodded politely to the guest and said, "Apologies, please wait a mont, excuse ."
"Please, my Lord." The envoy stood up in fear and trepidation, not daring to show any dissatisfaction.
The old count left the study, opened a door, and entered the adjacent room. He imdiately saw his staff and deputy waiting for him. Faced with his long-ti deputy, Count Rangdenier's expression changed instantly as he asked, "What happened?"
"It's about Tonyger," the staff replied.
"Is it still about that previous matter?" The count took a silver snuffbox from a servant nearby and sniffed, "That useless person hasn't handled it yet? It's been half a month!"
The old nobleman said angrily.
"This ti, new information has co from Sir Pallas."
"Pallas?"
Count Rangdenier paused; though Pallas was Gruding's house servant, he was also his old subordinate. He had fought together with him in the November War—though only in the late-period skirmishes. But the count's most trusted confidants were nearly all cultivated during that ti.
Pallas's loyalty to him and his family was beyond doubt. The count imdiately cald down upon hearing the news from this old knight and asked:
"What did he say?"
The staff didn't reply but handed him the note.
...
"Brand?"
Princess Griffine's eyebrows finally moved slightly upon hearing this na, a hint of surprise flashing in her pale silver eyes.
This trace of surprise existed only for an instant on the girl's face before she frowned: "That young man told you his na is Brand?"
The Half-Elf Princess slightly raised her eyelashes, looking at the few guests before her:
"Ordinary people under such circumstances probably wouldn't easily reveal their true identity."
"That's ordinary people," this was the first ti Count Bari interrupted, pressing his hand to his chest and bowing slightly, "but I think the other party is not ordinary; soone so closely connected with the Silver Elf could hardly be ordinary, esteed Princess—"
Princess Griffine intertwined her delicate fingers beneath her chin and pondered:
"Golden Apple, Silver Elf, Dragon Clan Magic, Highland Knights—"
She lowered her head: "You said he possesses Silver Power?"
"Exactly," Macaro nodded.
"Twenty years old," Princess Griffine looked at Ecco, but her heart was actually in turmoil. Ecco had clearly told her that the young man could scarcely reach Black Iron Level: "So he's like Mr. Aiko."
"A true genius—" Bujia answered, "and here's sothing interesting about his swordsmanship..."
"What about his swordsmanship?"
"His swordsmanship has so familiar traces, as if... a bit like soone I know..."
"Mr. Bujia, please continue,"
"Sword Saint Darius."
"Sword Saint Darius," the Half-Elf girl was puzzled: "But Mr. Bujia, you said that the young man uses standard Erune Military Swordsmanship. Aren't they unrelated?"
"Sword Saint Darius also uses Military Swordsmanship," Liwu replied, "Princess, you forget, he cos from a military background."
Improved swordsmanship, Princess Griffine's heart stirred.
But her thoughts didn't show to others as Liwu continued, "But a twenty-year-old Silver Knight is already quite rare—"
The old man said while looking at Ecco.
The young man lowered his head, embarrassed.
The Half-Elf girl also felt emotional after hearing this. In the recently ended champion contest, many equally outstanding young talents had erged—she couldn't help but wonder whether Lord Martha was indeed blessing Erune.
But if so, why would the current situation be so difficult, often making her feel powerless?
The princess felt a bit weary, but she imdiately forced herself to shift her focus with extraordinary willpower, taking a deep breath, her face sowhat pale.
Yet she still asked seriously, "Additionally, Master Liwu."
"Princess."
"You said the Golden Apple in that young man's hand hadn't ford a bond with his soul?"
"Yes, my Lady, I'm certain," Liwu answered, "I can vouch for this with my decades of honor as a court magician."
This ti, the Half-Elf girl was genuinely tempted. The legend said the Golden Apple could change one's destiny, causing a transformation.
If she had the Golden Apple, could her weak brother beco the true King of Erune?
But she wondered, anyone who obtained the Golden Apple would try to claim it imdiately. Why hadn't that young man done so—could it be a counterfeit?
Impossible, her teacher would never be mistaken.
But thinking of the young man's close connection with the Silver Elf, perhaps he was indeed extraordinary. Maybe he had other plans for the Golden Apple.
Moreover, considering the legends involving Highland Knights, Dragon Clan Magic, and Silver Elves, her heart pounded. Griffine raised her head, her eyes bright: "Can we find a way to win him over?"
"Win him over?"
Everyone was stunned; they certainly wished to—be it his connection with Silver Elf or as the bearer of the Golden Apple.
But they'd already offended him; how could they do it? Though the young man seed favorable to the Royal Family, it didn't prove anything.
"Difficult—" the pragmatic Macaro answered imdiately.
"No."
The princess smiled and shook her head, finding the thought amusing: "Maybe it's not as hard as you think—if it's the sa person."
Everyone was dumbfounded.
The princess took a letter with two fingers and handed it over.
"Look at this."
...
(PS. Ga over, curtain close.)(To be continued. For more, please visit qidian. Support the author and authorized reading!)
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