Henwell places his longsword and shield back onto the weapon rack mounted on the wall.
He pulls over a chair and sits down, then finally notices the pajamas Newwood is wearing. “Are these my pajamas?”
Newwood spins around with a grin. “Fits pretty well, huh?”
Then, suddenly serious, Newwood asks, “By the way, you don’t have any skin diseases, do you?”
Henwell stares at him, speechless for a mont, wanting to retort but instead rubbing his forehead. “Alright, just tell , what exactly are you here for?”
Newwood hops onto the bed and sits cross-legged. “First, you need to understand one thing. I’m not your enemy. No need to be so guarded around .”
Henwell replies, “I’m not treating you like an enemy; that’s why we’re sitting here talking.”
Newwood points toward the window. “Those thousands of armored elite soldiers near the manor, are they just here to guard the gates? The two hundred knight-ranked guards inside the estate, are they your night shift security? And the seven thousand cavalry three miles out, standing ready, are they planning a nightti drill so late?”
Henwell raises an eyebrow and calmly answers, “The guards inside the manor are, of course, here to protect . The troops outside? That’s normal, my estate is surrounded by barracks. Nothing unusual. As for the cavalry, they’re just on regular patrol rotation.”
He fixes Newwood with a steady gaze. “Besides, at your level, no army could really stop you.”
Newwood chuckles. “Heh… For other armies, that might be true. But not for yours. If there were more of them, even I’d have to retreat.”
Henwell scoffs. “Oh? Didn’t expect you to think so highly of my forces! Isn’t that a bit exaggerated? Are the elite troops of the Groias Empire and the Holy Spirit Church really no match for my little backwater lord’s private army?”
Newwood shakes his head. “It’s not about the army, it’s about you. Your very presence puts a special power on your troops when facing professionals. How to put it… Let demonstrate. Take the current situation, for example…”
With that, Newwood suddenly draws a long sword out of thin air.
Henwell’s hair stands on end instantly; his senses pick up a powerful aura radiating from Newwood, along with a sharp, deadly intent aid straight at him.
He leaps to his feet, blood-red battle energy flaring up around him.
At the sa ti, a golden glow flickers over Henwell’s body, making him look as if he’s engulfed in flas.
Grabbing his longsword again, Henwell locks eyes fiercely on Newwood.
Then he furrows his brow—not because he’s puzzled why Newwood hasn’t attacked, but because sothing strange is happening to Newwood.
Around Newwood’s crimson aura, several ethereal chains suddenly appear, seemingly suspended in space with no visible source.
The chains’ color almost perfectly blends with the fiery red battle energy and golden glow bursting from Henwell.
There are six chains in total, connecting to Newwood’s chest, back, and wrists and ankles.
Newwood struggles slightly, tugging at the right wrist holding the sword, then looks at Henwell. “See what this is? This is the limitation you impose on high-level professionals when you have armies and territories.”
Henwell asks, puzzled, “What are those? Why do they restrict high-level professionals?”
Newwood thinks for a mont. “I don’t know the exact details—it’s not really my specialty. I just have a basic understanding. I call these Shackles of Civilization. I don't know the exact na either. You’ll probably figure that out yourself later. As for how they form, I guess the bigger your territories, the stronger these shackles beco.”
He continues, “Right now, with your current sphere of influence, they only affect up to the Radiant Burst rank. That is the Glory Knight. They mainly suppress the Hope of the Rising Sun rank, which corresponds to Iron Knight. If enemies of that rank co into your territory and you lock onto them, they’re almost stuck in place.”
“Even if they don’t make a move, just being here with hostility puts imnse pressure on them. Their fighting spirit and stamina drain massively, keeping their combat effectiveness suppressed. It’s like they have a DEBUFF(a negative status effect) in a ga.”
“When it cos to fighting you personally, they can even be suppressed below Iron Knight rank. And as your influence grows, this effect will only get stronger.”
“I figure if you ever control a territory and population like the Kingdom of Vorry, you’ll be causing serious trouble even for Glory Knights.”
Henwell quietly rembers this information away, planning to verify it with others later.
Then he asks the question that’s been nagging him the most: “Are we from the sa world? Are we both servants of so unknown, powerful entity?”
Newwood thinks for a mont. “Yes and no. Let explain. Our past lives aren’t from the sa world; it’s just that the worlds we co from are very similar. Also, we’re like employees of a huge multinational corporation. Strictly, we’re just interns.”
“We belong to different departnts, so there’s no chain of command between us. Our leaders don’t issue cross-departnt orders. We don’t interact much, except for so simple collaboration on specific projects.”
“As for , I’m like the company’s external agent, scouting markets and doing preliminary research. You? You’re more like the field operative, sent into target zones to carry out company plans.”
Henwell nods, starting to get the gist. “So what’s the na of our company? Who do we work for?”
Newwood shrugs. “No idea! Like I said, we’re still interns. But we’re special interns, not like the ones before us. We don’t get any support or resources from the company; we’re basically starting from scratch, doing everything on our own. Once we show so results, maybe the higher-ups will back us more.”
Henwell has another question: “If we’re in different departnts, why did you co here? Is this a mission? How many interns like have you seen?”
Newwood sighs softly. “I’ve seen four from your departnt, but they’re all dead. My mission here is to keep you alive. My leader tasked with diverting the Abundant Continent’s attention, so they don’t discover the problems here.”
“Otherwise, do you really think I couldn’t kill that old bastard Atwood? If I wanted him dead, he wouldn’t even make it this far.”
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