?”Why would you say that?” Howard asked, perplexed.

Anna gently pushed back, distancing herself enough to look into Howard’s eyes.

“Because I love you, Howard. You must know of my feelings. I was just too slow back then, and Catherine got to you first. I had been preparing to confess my feelings to you. I’ve always wanted to marry you.”

Howard’s face flushed slightly, but firmly grasping Anna’s arms, he declared, “Anna, you know that’s impossible.”

Anna shook her head, tears streaming from her eyes.

“My lord Duke…” Her knight squire, too, began to cry, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.

Suddenly, Anna fell to her knees, crawling forward until she reached Howard’s feet, where she clung to his legs, refusing to let go.

Howard was not heartless.

His chest heaved with a tumult of emotions, a feeling unique and unsettling.

Ultimately, Howard rejected Anna’s affections, granting her a week to reflect.

A week later, Resarite and Anna arrived in Pist to formally transfer their titles and lands.

Resarite passed his title to his son, Cotler, while Anna chose her sister, Ness, as her successor.

Ness was a woman with bright, large eyes, her hair soft and flowing, fingers adorned with delicate Lancomé, her figure slender.

Her response to Howard’s friendly smile was one of awkwardness.

Ness already possessed her own lands, modest yet picturesque, nestled by mountains and water.

Resarite advised his son to serve Howard well.

Anna, dressed in a charming attire of pink pleats, exuded an allure Howard had never seen in her before.

The Anna he knew was always distant, even cold.

Yet today, she presented herself in a pink dress and skirt, black stockings, black high heels, and a pink Renonia-style hat, a sight Howard had never witnessed, offering him a perception of Anna he had never experienced.

Ness was a kind-hearted person, or rather, someone who did not prioritize her own interests.

Facing her sister’s significant life decision, she exhibited a spirit of concession, support, and even encouragement.

Standing aside, Ness remarked, “Oh, my sister looks so beautiful today. Any nobleman who marries her will be truly fortunate.”

This was Ness’s way of helping her sister win over Howard’s heart.

Anna glanced at her sister with gratitude and then deliberately presented herself gracefully before Howard.

Howard, noticing this, took a deep breath and pretended not to see.

Anna edged closer to Howard and whispered, “If you think I’ve been too brash in the past, not as gentle as Catherine, I can change my personality and my style of dressing. I just hope you, the man I love, would give me a chance.”

Howard looked at Anna and replied, “I have always respected you. Our relationship can be that of superior and subordinate, friends, or even comrades-in-arms.”

Anna wanted to say more, but Howard was no longer inclined to listen.

With a sigh, acknowledging the reality of the situation, Howard waved his hand and turned his back on Anna and Ness.

“Bosiden, ensure Anna and Ness complete the transfer,” he instructed.

The Chancellor Bosiden approached, bowing slightly to Anna as a gesture of apology, and then with an uplifted voice, he officiated the ceremony.

As the ceremony concluded, Anna, like Resarite, became a commoner.

Henceforth, barring any unforeseen circumstances, Anna and Resarite would no longer have the opportunity to see Howard.

Conversely, Howard, too, unless circumstances dictated otherwise, would likely never again find the time or occasion to meet them.

A week later, Howard met with a group of teachers from the study group.

He shared with them the details of his recent decisions.

Although they felt that Howard’s actions were risky for the broader situation of the continent, deep down, both in their hearts and according to their scholarly texts, they believed Howard had acted correctly.

Several teachers even self-deprecatingly admitted that they had initially thought Howard was just another corrupt, worldly noble.

That’s why they hadn’t insisted on Howard taking any particular action, simply consulting with Catherine and resolving the issue with a donation from Oungria Kingdom.

But they hadn’t expected Howard to demonstrate such high moral awareness.

It was as if, while others hid and shunned responsibility, Howard had boldly stepped forward in an empty space, a rare and commendable act in a world driven by material desires.

This deepened the teachers’ appreciation for Howard.

They assured him they would relay the entirety of these events to their spiritual leader, who they believed would likely recognize and commend Howard for his actions.

Another week passed, and the special spiritual leader awarded Howard with a certificate.

The document contained the leader’s praise and affirmation of Howard’s personal integrity.

In addition, Howard received several large chests of gold as a reward.

…

Three or four days later, Howard found himself in a mist-filled mountain ravine.

Having lost Resarite and Anna, a subtle sense of melancholy lingered in him, prompting him to seek solace in the distraction of hunting.

Amidst the fog, Howard discerned three hunched figures.

Their voices were unmistakably female, piercing yet slightly hoarse.

As the wind shifted, Howard caught a peculiar scent and approached.

The three stooped old witches stared at him with eyes that could only be described as malevolent.

It’s hard to define what makes eyes appear wicked, but there was no doubt in Howard’s mind upon encountering their gaze.

Howard was at a loss for words.

Recently, grappling with guilt, he found himself inclined towards seeking danger, undoubtedly a perilous mindset.

The witches spoke at length, but Howard paid little heed to their words. 𝘳𝑎.𝒸ℴ

After listening, he retraced his steps, resisting the sinister temptation and not lingering to inspect the contents of the boiling cauldron.

Temptation is ever-present, in various forms and places.

But the best way to confront it is to turn back.

Without questioning, without pondering, the bravest decision is to return the way you came.

Emerging from the mist-enshrouded ravine, Howard approached an area with sparse, tall, and dense patches of grass.

There, he overheard a conversation in the language of Osland Kingdom.

Stealthily, he concealed himself in the grass to eavesdrop.

Howard, renowned for his intelligence and quick learning, had mastered the intricacies of high noble etiquette with ease.

In just a year, he had become proficient in both Oungria Kindom and Osland Kingdom languages, understanding and engaging in basic dialogues.

His success was not solely reliant on his vassals.

Crouching down, Howard listened intently.

The voices belonged to two men, mature and deep, carrying a hint of menace.

One said to the other, “They’re taking so long. Why haven’t they come yet?”

The other replied, “Don’t know. Maybe the guy’s cautious, probably needs more convincing.”

The first man chuckled, “Heh, as long as he listens, he’ll eventually fall for it.

It’s not about how much he hears, but whether he listens at all.”

The second man agreed, “Haha, then let’s just wait here.”

The first continued, “Once he listens to them and drinks that so-called ‘power-giving’ soup, he’ll lose all his strength. Haha, what ‘magical power soup’ – it’s nothing but a common broth of beef and mutton, laced with a potion that weakens the body and mind.”

Howard’s heart pounded fiercely as he listened.

The conversation eerily mirrored the encounter he had just experienced with the three witches.

The second man sneered, “Heh, let’s hope he doesn’t catch on. But honestly, I believe no one in a position of power can resist the temptation of gaining extraordinary strength! We could’ve just used poison directly, no need for such elaborate schemes.”

Howard realized they were in cahoots with the witches.

Sure enough, after a while, the three witches met up with the two men.

They reported that Howard was too resolute, had not fallen for their trap, and had refused to drink.

In a fit of rage, the two men from Osland Kingdom slew the witches, cursing them as useless.

At that moment, Howard stood up and confronted them, “What are you doing? Killing people of Oungria Kindom within its borders, do you have no regard for me, the King of Oungria Kindom?”

The men, upon closer inspection of Howard’s attire, seemed to believe his identity to some extent.

One pretended to surrender, offering to defend himself in court, while the other waited for Howard to approach before suddenly drawing a curved blade in an attempt to kill him.

Howard was not surprised at all.

To him, such a level of conspiracy was elementary.

Howard, with a feigned move, used his scabbard to block the curved sword.

In a swift motion, he flipped his left hand upward, making the scabbard whirl elegantly in the air.

Then, swiftly drawing the royal ring sword with his right hand, he lunged forward, driving the blade into the body of an Osland Kingdom soldier.

Another enemy, picking up a blade to strike Howard, met the same fate.

The disparity in their combat abilities was stark and undeniable.

The encounter hardly posed any challenge to Howard.

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