The path to the Black Wood Forest Outpost was covered in thick snow. Four packhorses exhaled puffs of white mist in the bitter cold, treading cautiously forward.
Arthur pulled his heavy cloak tighter, fine ice crystals clinging to his graying eyebrows and beard.
Twenty years had carved deep lines into his face, but he still held his back straight in the crisp winter air.
"This reminds of that winter twenty years ago, when Lord Sylvan beca the Baron. We traveled to the Black Wood Forest Outpost together in the early sumr of that year as well." Luca breathed out a puff of white air and rubbed his red, frozen ears.
He was a few years younger than Arthur, but fine lines had already crept into the corners of his eyes. Only his gaze retained the sharpness of his youth.
Arthur gazed at the snow-covered path ahead, his eyes seemingly piercing through ti. "Yes, in the early sumr of that year, we were ordered to the Black Wood Forest. It was only when we returned that we found so much had changed in the territory."
Luca shook his head gently. "Not this ti. The territory is peaceful now, and the Baron and his sister are on good terms. Aside from hearing that Edgar was getting cozy with the young lady from the Lawrence Family again—flirting at the Winter Solstice banquet and even spending the night together—there’s nothing to worry about."
Arthur sighed. "You can’t really bla Edgar for that... Didn’t Lady Aurora acquiesce to it as well?"
The two n fell into a brief silence, the only sounds being the crunch of hooves on snow and the howl of the frigid wind.
As a bone-chilling gust of wind swept by, Luca suddenly spoke up. "Speaking of eight years ago, the disappearance of Miss Cecilia from the Hans Viscount Domain still seems strange to . How could a perfectly fine person just vanish like that?"
Arthur tightened his grip on the reins, pondering for a mont. "I’ve heard three theories. First, she was killed by enemies, as Viscount Hans has made quite a few. Second, she left on her own, perhaps unwilling to be a pawn in a political marriage. And third..." He lowered his voice. "Perhaps it’s related to those mysterious dark forces. Weren’t there mass livestock deaths on the manors of the surrounding domains eight years ago? The rumor is that dark forces were at work, and Miss Cecilia disappeared around the sa ti."
Luca added, "Whatever the case, it was a good thing for us. If not for Cecilia’s sudden disappearance, Viscount Hans’s grip on the Northern Trade Route wouldn’t have loosened. You know, if not for that incident, the Baron’s Domain would have likely been forced to rge into a Church Court parish long ago."
The Northern Trade Route passing through the Duval Territory was a ti-honored tradition.
Not only was this route the most direct, but it was also trusted by rchant caravans because the Baron’s Domain had always maintained a powerful escort of at least three Knights and thirty followers.
However, ever since the trade route was diverted through the Hans Viscount Domain, it remained operational despite the longer detour.
This phenonon attracted the greedy eyes of the neighboring Lords.
If the caravans were willing to take the long way through the Hans Territory, why couldn’t they choose a route that passed through their domains?
As a result, Viscount Hans found himself exhausted from dealing with pressure from all sides.
The neighboring Lords ca up with all sorts of reasons, wanting to get a piece of the pie.
So offered the pretense of providing safer routes, while others used the lure of reduced tariffs.
Viscount Hans had to navigate between these covetous parties, leaving him no ti to bother with the Baron’s Domain.
The other Lords couldn’t be bothered to find a breakthrough with the Baron’s Domain either, as they knew full well that both rulers of the Duval Clan—from Baron Sylvan to the Forr Lady Baron—were renowned for their stubbornness.
If pushed too hard, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t just turn to the Church Court and have the territory converted into a parish.
Rather than take that risk, it was more practical to find a way to carve out so benefits from Viscount Hans.
"Speaking of which," Arthur said pensively, "don’t you find the changes in the Baron’s Domain these past years strange as well? The taxes have been lowered again and again, and the number of Knight’s Attendants has been kept at ten. I really don’t know what the Baron is thinking."
Luca gazed at the mountains, which were faintly visible in the distant winter mist. "Perhaps the Forr Lady Baron always intended to rge the domain into a parish, so she thought maintaining too large a force was a waste. But the Lady is gone now, so who knows what the Baron plans to do next, or if he’ll continue with those bizarre research projects of his. It’s been almost thirty-one years since the last border war. What if this disturbance on the border is a sign that war is about to break out again..."
"Who cares!" Arthur suddenly raised his voice, the sound exceptionally clear in the cold air. "Even if another border war starts, I only have a few years left. My children will have to make their own way; I can’t worry about all that."
Luca couldn’t help but laugh and curse good-naturedly, "You old coot, I bet you’ve got at least another twenty years in you. You might even live to see the next border war!"
"Hahaha!" Arthur let out a hearty laugh, startling a few jackdaws from the pine trees by the path.
He turned his head and shouted to the two young grooms trailing behind, "Listen up, you two lads! If a war really breaks out, you’d better find a way to survive! I only beca a Knight’s Attendant because I survived the last border war!"
A groom with an honest, simple face quickly replied, "Yes, Sir Arthur! We’ll be sure to rember your words."
His na was Thomas, a son of local farrs, born and raised in the territory.
The other, nad Leon, was also the son of local farrs. He was currently leading a packhorse, struggling through the deep snow.
He looked no different from an ordinary groom, except that occasionally, when no one was watching, an imperceptible glint would flash in his eyes.
When Arthur shouted, he happened to be adjusting a packhorse’s saddle. Upon hearing him, he too replied respectfully, "We will rember your words, sir."
His voice was calm and his deanor proper, showing no signs of anything unusual.
However, a keen observer would have noticed that when the glint flashed in his eyes, a corresponding flicker would appear in the eyes of the packhorse he was leading.
This packhorse was unusually docile. It was exceptionally steady on the slippery, snowy ground and always complied perfectly with Leon’s every subtle movent and command.
But to an outsider, this subtle abnormality would at most be seen as a sign of skillful horse training.
Arthur studied Leon’s young face, watching his skilled technique with the horses, and suddenly remarked with a sigh, "Leon, seeing you reminds of a young man nad Murphy. A sha... The boy died at the Black Wood Forest Outpost twenty years ago, attacked by a wild beast..."
The old attendant’s gaze grew distant as he began to ramble on about the past. "Back in the day, that lad beca an Upper-class Groom in just three years... I was even thinking of marrying my younger daughter, Erin, to him..."
Luca listened in silence. He knew Arthur wasn’t just talking about Murphy.
No matter how outstanding the groom nad Murphy had been, he was ultimately just a passerby in Arthur’s life.
The old attendant was actually using another’s story to tell his own.
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