"Rostislav, are you making fun of me? Zhe'erji defected to those pagans; that's too outrageous."
In the Hungarian camp, inside Edward's tent, after hearing everything the Moscow Prince had recounted, Edward immediately rose from his chair, his face filled with disbelief.
What Rostislav said was too fantastical for him; Zhe'erji had Árpád Dynasty blood, and yet you're telling me he betrayed this family?
However, his heart was already wavering. He knew very well what kind of person Rostislav was.
This person would not play such nasty jokes; most of the time, he was the one playing a similar role, not the Moscow Prince.
He just didn't want to believe it, because Zhe'erji was a very outstanding person who had given him a lot of help. Those aids allowed him to better control this army, and their personal relationship was also very good.
Seeing this, Rostislav didn't say much, only having his subordinates bring up Zhe'erji's underlings.
The crossbowmen dragged the terrified prisoners forward. Looking at them, it was clear they had suffered a lot beforehand.
These underlings tremblingly explained everything they knew. They all had injuries, and some even had their ears and noses cut off, with only simple treatment for the wounds. The expression on that person's face showed that pain was still constantly assailing him.
With this unfortunate fellow as an example, these underlings painfully and fiercely provided evidence for Rostislav.
In fact, looking at this group, the Moscow Prince felt very regretful. No matter how much he questioned those underlings, he couldn't get any other information, even with severe secondary harm to their wounds, or even major torture like cutting off noses and ears. This made him certain that these people truly knew nothing.
However, although they were just pawns executing orders, there was no problem in having them testify to what they had done.
After hearing all this, no matter how unwilling Edward was to accept it, he could only believe it. Moreover, the Moscow Prince had no need to frame a bastard son.
But he was also at a loss. Why would Zhe'erji betray? He was proficient in both writing and martial arts, a very rare cultured person who could shine anywhere, it just needed time.
"Do you still need evidence? I can call the guards to explain to you."
Seeing Edward pondering something, Rostislav became a little displeased. He thought Edward was still doubting him.
Given their relationship and trust, how could this person still be so hesitant to believe? Would I, Rostislav, lie about such a matter?
"No, no need, this is enough."
Edward quickly said, hearing the displeasure in Rostislav's words.
"I was just thinking about why he betrayed. Zhe'erji… honestly, after interacting with this young man, I didn't feel he was someone who would betray."
In response, Rostislav then told Edward everything he had heard from Zhe'erji. Edward, upon hearing this, was initially surprised, then understood, and finally sighed repeatedly.
"Is that so? So that's it. What he said is indeed true, but I didn't expect him to resent to such an extent, and to conceal it so well that no one discovered it. Alas, as their elder, I should have discovered it earlier. Perhaps he could have been corrected like Meshko."
The Moscow Prince raised an eyebrow. So you corrected Meshko's personality? Today, I heard something I had never known.
And after sighing for a while, Edward's expression immediately became serious, because in that instant, Edward thought of what needed to be done immediately.
"Someone! Immediately control all of Zhe'erji's subordinates! Everyone must disarm, then be locked up. Have the Moscow Camp do this, and also call the German. Be quick!"
"Yes!"
Edward's style when giving orders was swift and decisive. With his command, his subordinates immediately went to relay the orders, and Edward waited anxiously.
Soon after, Rostislav heard the sound of iron boots treading on the ground; it was the spearmen of the Moscow Camp running in groups.
"Your reaction is truly swift. I thought I would have to remind you."
Rostislav said to Edward teasingly. Edward, seeing that the troops had arrived, no longer sat anxiously and settled down.
He then took out a bottle of red wine and two glasses from a cabinet, deftly filled both glasses with red wine, handed one to Rostislav, and drank the other himself.
His mood was quite depressed; he needed alcohol to soothe his inner turmoil.
"I understand the reasoning. The traitors' subordinates cannot be trusted now and must be immediately controlled. These are all hidden dangers…"
Edward stated his thoughts, which were also Rostislav's. The Moscow Prince's hasty return to the camp was not just to deliver a message, but mainly to control the forces of this great internal spy.
"By the way, does Edward have many people under him?"
Finishing the red wine in his hand, Rostislav suddenly asked.
"Only about fifty people, but most of them are recruited farmers."
Edward had already walked outside the tent at this point, then he said without turning his head. He was anxiously watching the spearmen surround the camp area where Zhe'erji's subordinates were located.
And just as his words fell, a sound of fighting came from within the besieged camp, which made both Rostislav and Edward's hearts tighten. This was not the scene they wanted to see!
Rostislav rushed out of the tent without delay and ran with Edward towards where the fighting was happening.
When they arrived, they found that it was all just a false alarm. It turned out that a few Magyar knights resisted disarming, and so they drew their blades against those disarming them.
Their end was also simple: either their heads were cut off by a great sword, or they were stabbed like sieves by long spears. As for those farmer soldiers, they were now fearfully prostrate, not daring to utter a word.
Their lords, who usually lorded over them, were killed like chickens. Would these commoners dare to jump? Wouldn't that be seeking death?
The headcount was also quickly completed, and the result was that besides the few dead, several Magyar knights were missing. They were all very close to the deceased.
"It seems Zhe'erji had a way to notify his companions. I rode so fast, but I still didn't make it in time."
Rostislav squatted beside the few tragically dead knights, wanting to observe something from them, but he found nothing.
He felt quite regretful; a clue he had finally managed to grasp was gone just like that.
"It seems that those here were the ones he could abandon. These few stubborn fellows, I don't know if they were suicide soldiers or something else. What a pity, I originally thought I could at least catch a few people in the know. Those who attacked me were all thugs hired by Edward; they knew nothing else."
"Let's leave it at this for today. God, there's really nothing to investigate."
Rostislav stood up, composed his expression, and brushed the dust from his clothes.
He thought he shouldn't be too dejected. No matter what, he had rooted out the traitor within, and thinking this lifted his spirits somewhat.
And it was at this moment that Edward came closer.
"Rostislav, let the Moscow Camp return to their unit."
This greatly surprised Rostislav. Brother, what you need now is military strength to display power! If you send away one of your strong fighting forces at this time, how will you negotiate next?
And as if fearing Rostislav didn't understand his meaning—which he indeed didn't—Edward proceeded to explain.
"Now that a traitor of Zhe'erji's level has appeared on my side, it indicates that my position here is not safe. I don't know who else might be a hidden traitor, so it's better to let your troops return to their unit. The people I have on hand are sufficient to control the situation now."
Rostislav understood Edward's thoughts. He was afraid that the Moscow Camp might suffer losses due to potential traitors in the camp, so he nodded and accepted Edward's good intentions.