While Count Jansen is all stressed out, Henwell’s actually pretty chill about things.
Jansen still has at least ten years left to rule, and nobody really knows how Peace Haven will look a decade from now.
Conservatively, it’ll be at least twice as strong as it is now.
Ten years is more than enough ti for Henwell to break through to Iron Knight rank.
If luck’s on his side, he might even be knocking on the door of Glory Knight by then.
With over a hundred thousand elite troops under his command, Glory Knight status, solid finances, and fertile lands...
All that will be Henwell’s backbone. Hell, maybe by then the Phoenix family will be his vassal.
What really worries Henwell now is that mysterious Archbishop, the so-called Holy Spirit Church, and the unknown empire.
Portal gates that open just like that, while he’s still stuck with cold steel fighting?
That’s a damn dinsional stomp!
Plus, that Archbishop always talking about guarding the family and other crap Henwell needs to figure out.
Just as Henwell’s pondering where to start, soone calls out his na.
He looks up and sees Grand Duke Amir waving at him with a kindly smile.
“Henwell! Co up! I’ve got good news for you!”
Fuck!
What kind of good news could that old bastard possibly have?
Is he dying of cancer or sothing?
Henwell curses Amir under his breath but walks up seriously.
King Amir turns to the Archbishop beside him and says, “This is our young talent—he’s made a na for himself at a young age. He manages his lands well and is skilled in warfare, easily our youngest commander.”
”At under thirty, he’s already a Grand Knight. Such a promising young man is wasted here. How about the Archbishop takes him to see the wider world? He might even break through to higher levels personally.”
Damn it!
He is trying to exile !
The white-robed Archbishop gives Henwell a kindly once-over. “You really are a promising young man! What’s your na, child?”
I’m your damn father!
Henwell, trying to keep cool but pretending to be a bit rattled, replies, “Your Grace, my na is Henwell!”
The Archbishop smiles warmly. “Would you be willing to leave with and train sowhere better? With your potential, in ten years you’ll surely beco an Iron Knight.”
Hell no!
If I just lie low for ten years, I’ll be an Iron Knight as well. Why the hell should I go?
Henwell hesitates, “Thank you for the honor, Your Grace, but I’m not married yet.”
“And what about a year from now? I can offer you a place. After a year there, you can co find anyti!”
Jesus, old man, when will you stop speaking?
Henwell scratches his head awkwardly. “Your Grace, I don’t even have kids yet!”
The Archbishop chuckles and shakes his head, dropping the subject.
To him, this invitation is the greatest blessing he can offer a young man from such a barren land.
If Henwell refuses, it’s his own loss.
Since it couldn’t drag Henwell away, Amir doesn’t lose heart.
Instead, he beams, “Henwell, it’s good you’re staying. The kingdom needs young talent like you now! By the way, I hear you’re engaged to a Marcus family girl? When did that happen? Not even a word to ?”
Damn!
Why the hell would I notify you?
Want you to co ss up my engagent party?
Henwell smiles politely, “Your Majesty is busy with state affairs. I didn’t want to trouble you with such a small matter. When we marry, we’ll definitely invite you to bless us.”
Amir laughs heartily. “Ha! Henwell, you’re too modest. You’re a hero of the kingdom and a rising star. Your marriage is important to both and the kingdom.”
”Perfect! Since today’s such a festive occasion, I’ll host your engagent ceremony right here! The Archbishop of the Holy Spirit Church is here too, and he won’t hold back his blessings for young people!”
Without waiting for Henwell’s input, Amir calls lissa over.
Duke Marcus smiles politely, “Thank you for your trouble, King Amir,” but his eyes are ice-cold beneath that smile.
The white-robed Archbishop doesn’t care about these political power plays.
He simply offers his blessings to the young couple, showing no resistance.
Then Amir loudly proclaims, “The engagent between Henwell and lissa MacLeod is officially established. I hope you’ll get to know each other well during this ti and prepare for marriage. When the ti cos, I will personally officiate your wedding.”
The Archbishop steps forward, raising his staff and placing it between the two kneeling youths.
“Children! Grasp the staff!”
Though hesitant, Henwell grits his teeth and complies.
“May you walk through life supporting each other under the witness of the gods. The gods bless your union and your future children!”
The two stand, bow first to the dignitaries, then turn to salute the crowd in the square.
Cheers erupt from the crowd.
Even though many harbor resentnt toward Henwell, they can’t deny he’s the kingdom’s brightest young star.
They might sche against him elsewhere, but right now, most genuinely wish this well-matched couple all the best.
Facing the crowd’s cheers, lissa can’t help but grip Henwell’s arm tightly.
Henwell glances sideways at the excited lissa, lets out a deep breath, and finally exhales the weight off his chest.
No matter what, he hasn’t let this girl down.
King Amir’s blessings are bullshit, but publicly sealing this marriage is real.
That ans even if Henwell wants to back out later and marry soone from the Phoenix family, it’s off the table.
The possibility of tying Henwell to the Phoenix family through marriage is completely cut off.
With Jansen becoming Grand Duke, the Phoenix family will grow wary of Henwell, who shares no blood ties with them.
Once that seed is planted, it only takes the right mont to take root and sprout.
Eventually, it’ll grow into a towering tree, standing tall between Henwell and the Phoenix family.
Though Henwell has no plans to call off the engagent, having his happy ceremony tangled up with so much political bullshit still pisses him off.
But seeing lissa’s blissful face, he can’t help but think it’s worth it.
At least he’s given her an engagent ceremony that everyone’s watching.
Next up is the singing and dancing to send blessings to the young couple.
As the music starts, Henwell frowns.
This lody feels so familiar!
A stirring song fills the air, but the language?
Why does it sound like English?
Then it hits him.
His eyes widen, and his hand slams onto his sword hilt.
He rembers where he’s heard this song before!
Hunchback Marsh!
Back when he was a demon hunter, fighting those annoying water ghosts!
Holy shit, this is the battle the from a ga Henwell played in his past life.
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