Chapter 21: How Much of the Former Me Do You See?
"Hand the communicator to Arthur."
"I'm here." Arthur leaned into the communicator, sighing inwardly—it seemed he couldn't shake off this big trouble.
The King's voice betrayed undisguised weariness: "Son, counting this time, Adda has already walked two round trips in front of the gates of death. As a father, I truly owe her too much. You may take her to travel and sightsee, or even play some harmless adventure games with her…"
The King's voice suddenly turned sharp: "But should I hear that you dare to let her face mortal danger again, there will be no place for you in this entire world to hide. Is that clear?"
Arthur grabbed his hair, making it look like a bird's nest: "I'm about to handle a major issue, and I'm afraid I don't have time to play nanny. Why don't you try persuading her again?"
The moment he finished speaking, he was punched in the back. Adda yelled huffily: "Hey! I worked hard to escape!"
"Son, no one has ever dared to evade my question with a joke. You are the first." Foltest's tone in the communicator was unfriendly.
Triss frantically gesticulated at Arthur, but he just shrugged: "Sorry, no one ever taught me how to speak to a king."
The moment the words left his mouth, Triss's face instantly wrinkled into a bitter gourd, though Adda gave him a thumbs-up.
Foltest suddenly said something baffling: "…You truly are a Pontar man." After that, he stopped addressing Arthur: "Triss, you are responsible for her safety until the Princess returns."
The King ended the communication.
Triss gripped Arthur tightly, her almond eyes wide: "Are you mad, speaking to the King in that tone?!"
Arthur was calm: "I didn't feel like I said anything out of line."
He was determined to rescue Kolgrim and leave. Velerad said there were plenty of Knights of the Throne who ate but didn't work; adding himself shouldn't make much difference. At worst, he'd return the sword and the sigil. He absolutely did not want any further involvement with the Princess—getting entangled in the King's affairs wasn't worth a single one of his lives!
"Wait for me here. I have something to take care of." Arthur pointed to the Amavet Fortress on the hillside, but Adda instantly jumped up:
"I'm coming too! I can help you kick that fat lord's butt!"
"You sit there!" 2
Arthur and Triss shouted in unison. Why did this unlucky kid have to stick her nose into everything? In the words of a certain sage, his current endeavor was certain to end poorly. If he managed to rescue the man, fine. But if Kolgrim had already suffered some mishap, Amavet Fortress would become a ready-made training ground for his two-handed weapon skills!
Triss took half a step back, covering her mouth in shock: "I actually scolded a Princess!"
Adda only glared at Arthur twice, then slumped back down, genuinely pouting: "Then you better hurry back. Don't think about running. I remember your scent."
Why is she acting like a child… Arthur muttered to himself, but at least he could finally get to his business.
Two guards stood at the gate of Amavet Fortress. Arthur pretended not to see them, pulled down his visor, and strode right in.
"Where is Ignatius?"
The two guards tried to intercept him, but facing the crest of a Knight of the Throne and the two-handed greatsword, they could only use deferential language to stall.
"The Lord just finished his duties and is resting…" one guard said fawningly, while frantically waving his hand to signal his comrade to notify the Lord.
Seeing that the guard hadn't drawn his sword, Arthur simply ignored him, walking straight until he reached the entrance of the main hall, where he was finally met by Ignatius.
"My Lord Knight! Where have you come from, and what business do you have in my domain?"
Ignatius reeked of alcohol and was wearing only a long robe, suggesting he had dressed in a hurry. The fat man was a piece of work; his face was still clouded with annoyance as he pushed the door open, but the moment he saw the crest, it shifted into a polite smile.
Unfortunately, Arthur was not in the mood to play his games. A cold flash appeared, and the tip of Arthur's sword was locked onto Ignatius's throat:
"Don't you recognize this sword?"
Ignatius was startled, struggling to look down. It was a sword devoid of any ornamentation. Because its form was somewhere between a short sword and a greatsword, many people jokingly called it a bastard sword, known for being unsuitable for polite society.
But in this situation, he dared not wager whether this 'commoner's sword' would pierce his throat.
Ignatius's Adam's apple bobbed a few times. He managed to say with difficulty: "My Lord, there must be some misunderstanding here. If I have offended you in any way, please give me a hint?"
"Cut the nonsense. Hand him over!" Arthur flipped up his visor and gave his wrist a slight tremor, leaving a thin red line across the Lord's cheek.
"Who exactly are you looking for, Your Grace? I've never seen such a magnificent young man as yourself!" The Lord wailed, his legs shaking so hard they nearly blurred. He genuinely hadn't recognized Arthur.
Arthur was so angry he almost laughed. In the past day and night, he had walked back and forth on the line between life and death, yet the man before him hadn't paid any attention at all!
He leaned forward abruptly, forcing Ignatius back into a corner that was only safe from arrows: "Kolgrim, the Witcher you arrested the day before yesterday afternoon. If I don't see him today, you'll be buried with him!"
"I remember, I remember! There was such a man!" The Lord frantically waved his fat hands, shouting at his confused subordinates: "Quickly, invite the Witcher out!"
It must be said that the Vyrillis family had some deep reserves, having safely spent a century in a fiefdom so close to the King.
When Kolgrim reappeared, Arthur could barely believe his eyes. The Witcher was dressed in clean, fine linen clothes. His hair was neatly groomed and flowing handsomely, with no prison stink whatsoever. If it weren't for the residual bruise near his eye, Arthur would have believed he was a guest of the Lord.
Seeing Arthur finally crack a smile, Kolgrim showed a rare moment of distraction. The dungeons of Amavet Fortress saw no sunlight, but he could gauge the approximate time by the intensity of his hunger.
How did Arthur go from a desperate fugitive to a Knight in less than two days? Fate had truly played a grand joke on him.
"My Lord, your friend has been brought to you. Now… can I be on my way?" Ignatius cautiously tried to push Arthur's sword tip aside.
"My blueprints!" Kolgrim suddenly spoke up.
Arthur flicked his wrist, bringing his bastard sword horizontal across Ignatius's neck: "The blueprints!"
Ignatius was both angry and terrified. He could only wave his arms, venting his frustration on his subordinates: "Go find them the blueprints, you fools! And don't you dare damage them!"
However, the blueprints, which Kolgrim treasured, were no more valuable than a rag in Ignatius's eyes. His subordinates searched every single chest without finding them. Seeing Arthur's face darken, Ignatius's stamina and courage completely gave out. Yellow liquid flowed down his trousers, pooling at his feet, stinking foully.
"If they can't find them, bring him along to search for them himself," Kolgrim suggested.
At that moment, a voice full of astonishment came from the main entrance: "Father?"
Arthur looked only for a moment in the direction of the voice before an uncontrollable wave of fury washed over him:
It was the young Lord Florian, and the retainers behind him each carried a human head impaled on their long spears.
In the direction of Hoffer Village, black smoke was rising into the sky.
.............
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