Henwell sleeps soundly for a full day, only waking up that night.
During that ti, several important visitors co to see him.
Grand Duke Reyes, Dukes Fabio and Obiken, even Marquis Descartes from the Nobles’ Alliance drop by to check on him.
Besides them, Arius makes a visit too.
Actually, he ca by the previous evening as well.
This ti, he arrives representing King Amir, bringing a generous supply of royal extraordinary supplents and potions.
The last visitor is the church guard captain from Archbishop Atwood’s entourage.
This Iron Knight brings a lot of gifts, all to thank Henwell for stepping in.
If Henwell hadn’t spotted the assassin first and blocked the attack, the Archbishop would’ve been seriously wounded—or worse.
Though Henwell’s interception was brief, it gave the other Iron Knights ti to react.
Plus, his brave fighting afterward played a huge role in the outco.
This Iron Knight, nad Bridge, regrets to say that the Archbishop had intended to bring soone as outstanding as Henwell into the church’s training program.
But because the Archbishop was badly injured, the guard suffered heavy losses, and that thug Newwood escaped, staying here is too dangerous.
Not just for the Archbishop, even Silver Peak City isn’t safe anymore.
Bridge relays the Archbishop’s offer: if Henwell is willing, he can head west to et a contact.
Soone will then escort Henwell into the church.
Before leaving, Bridge hands over a cross-shaped badge—a token to find the contact.
It’s also a symbol of status, marking Henwell as a church knight.
It ans Henwell is under the protection of the Holy Spirit Church, anyone trying to kill him is provoking the church itself.
Of course, this protection applies only to Henwell personally; factions like Peace Haven aren’t covered by the church’s shield.
Bridge also reassures everyone that Newwood won’t linger here.
His target is the Archbishop, so once the Archbishop leaves, Newwood will follow.
That strange teleportation thod Newwood used yesterday covers such a vast distance, it’s unlikely he’ll return anyti soon—maybe never.
Bridge also leaves behind so advanced potions and a training manual for knights.
It’s not church knight exclusive, but a fairly universal cultivation thod.
The content is enough to train up to the Iron Knight rank—an incredibly valuable resource.
Bridge specifically instructs that this material must not be shared—only for Henwell’s use.
Once Henwell wakes up, he carefully inspects all the items, and captain Simon tidies them away safely.
This ti, Henwell feels much better physically but still struggles to get out of bed.
After taking the potions and supplents Arius brought, Henwell can feel his blood regenerating steadily.
He only rests for one night before waking again.
Half of his blood has been restored, and with so help, he manages to get out of bed.
But everyone insists he stay lying down to rest.
As soon as Henwell wakes, lissa rushes over early in the morning.
She had stayed by his side all day yesterday while he slept, only leaving with Grand Duke Marcus that night.
Today, seeing Henwell awake, lissa runs up, clutching her dress, and throws herself into his arms, crying her heart out.
The two Lord Iron Guards tactfully step out, giving them so privacy.
Henwell can only smile awkwardly and softly comfort the tearful beauty in his arms.
Around noon, lissa’s older brother Spencer drops by to talk to Henwell.
He watches his sister rush out, her clothes slightly disheveled and cheeks flushed.
Spencer eyes Henwell suspiciously. “Hey, you little bastard, you didn’t try anything inappropriate while she was here, did you?”
Henwell rolls his eyes. “I’m so weak I need help just to pee. What kind of ‘inappropriate’ things could I possibly do? Besides, even if I did, it’d be totally justified, I’m her fiancé; it’s all above board!”
Spencer scoffs, correcting him, “You wish! It’s just an engagent!”
Henwell doesn’t have the energy to argue back. Spencer looks at him, wrapped in bandages like a mummy, and grumbles, “If I hadn’t reacted fast, my sister would’ve been knocked down by you!”
”Seriously, since you sensed sothing was off, why didn’t you just run with her? Why did you have to be a hero yourself! That thug was deadly, if he’d used his blade back instead of kicking then, I’d be laying flowers on your grave right now!”
Henwell reaches out, signaling Spencer to pour him a glass of water.
With a helpless sigh, he says, “You think I wanted this? I had no idea he was that dangerous! By the ti I realized, it was too late! And I thought he was after ! Of course I fought back. With lissa right there, it was even more dangerous.”
He’s not lying, he only felt a sharp, murderous intent aid at him.
There was no ti to debate; his instincts took over.
If he’d known the assassin was targeting the Archbishop, he would’ve run faster than anyone.
Suddenly, Henwell asks, “Hey, what happened to those monsters’ bodies? Where are they? Get one, I want to dissect and study it.”
Spencer glares. “What kind of weird hobby is that? They’re all gone!”
Henwell doesn’t buy it. “No way! So many monster corpses, did the royal family just pocket them all?”
“Nope! The Archbishop purified them all yesterday. Heard it was quite a spectacle. They piled up the bodies, then used divine magic to set them ablaze. In a flash of white light, everything turned to ash—not even weapons or armor left.”
Henwell frowns. “Nobody stashed any away secretly?”
Spencer shrugs. “Everyone wanted to, but the Archbishop ordered that all the monsters be cleansed. Otherwise, more could be attracted, risking the destruction of the entire kingdom or even the continent. “
”Plus, Iron Knights personally supervised the collection. Who’d dare pull a stunt? Most importantly, that stuff’s so dangerous, only soone like you would want to dissect it. What are you gonna do—study if it’s edible?”
Henwell waves him off. “You wouldn’t understand. So, the Archbishop and the others left today?”
“Yeah, I didn’t see them. They said they’re leaving tonight, but no one knows for sure. Ask Arius tomorrow.”
After everyone leaves, Henwell toys with a coin in his hand.
It’s neither gold nor silver, an inky blue tal he doesn’t recognize.
It’s the finest extraordinary alloy he’s ever seen.
It’s the coin that thug left wedged in his ribcage after kicking him that day.
Henwell has no idea what it is or where it ca from.
But he recognizes the strange image—or rather, the word—engraved on it.
The front shows a snarling hunting dog’s head, with a single English word behind it: Cool!
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