?Unsure of the market price for apples, Howard could only respond noncommittally to the woman’s statement.

Sensing Howard’s uncertainty, the woman quickly lowered her price, saying, “You can have an apple for just 2 bronze coins.”

Howard, appearing nonchalant, observed her closely, wondering if his lack of response would prompt her to drop the price further.

However, the woman, seemingly an experienced merchant, recognized Howard’s tactic and firmly stated, “2 bronze coins is the cost price; it can’t go any lower.”

Howard chuckled and said, “Alright, follow me to the camp, I don’t have money on me right now.”

The woman hesitated, expressing her reluctance to deliver the goods to the military camp, fearing she might not get paid.

Howard noted the genuine concern in her expression, guessing she might have been deceived in the past.

After a hearty laugh and fetching another basin of water to the camp, Howard returned with a handful of bronze coins.

He met the woman again, handing her a generous amount of coins and in return, received a basket full of apples and pears.

The woman, holding more coins than she could comfortably grasp in both hands, expressed her astonishment, “Wow, sir, you are indeed generous. This is far more than what my goods are worth.”

Howard smiled wryly and suggested, “You seem very experienced. How about providing us with a continuous supply of fruits during these days? I believe the soldiers would be delighted to have some fresh fruits.”

The woman’s eyes lit up, further convinced that Howard was a person of significance.

In her mind, Howard must have been at least a minor military leader to wield the power to decide on supplies.

With a hint of nervousness, she introduced herself to Howard, “Greetings, sir.

My name is Delysa, a merchant from the nearby Sbalok City.”

Howard inquired casually, “Sbalok City? That’s a baron’s distance away from here, isn’t it?”

Delysa then shared her story.

She had been swindled in Sbalok City, losing her capital needed to purchase local goods. .

Hearing of the ongoing war, she ventured to the nearest village to the camp, spending her remaining funds on fruits, hoping to try her luck at the military encampment.

Delysa, a small-time merchant, had prepared her goods but, haunted by past experiences of the Oungria Kingdom and Osland Kingdom conflicts, hesitated to enter the camp.

This led to her chance encounter with Howard outside the military grounds.

After listening to her story, Howard felt that Delysa’s experience might well represent the current state of the Oungria Kingdom’s populace.

Revealing his identity, Delysa was so overwhelmed that she immediately knelt in fear.

Howard then led Delysa into the camp and handed her some silver coins, commissioning her to supply fruits and other items for the army.

Although the army’s food supplies were ample, Howard’s decision seemed driven by a mix of whim and a desire to provide Delysa with an earning opportunity. 𝘪𝘳.𝒸𝑜𝑚

With Vettel’s well-stocked purse and Bosiden’s flawlessly managed supply lines, Howard saw this as an opportunity to give Delysa a chance.

As more soldiers began to wake, Delysa left the camp to procure goods, her heart a mix of trepidation and joy.

She felt on the verge of prosperity, knowing Howard’s reputation for generosity.

If Howard deemed her valuable, she might even ascend to nobility, potentially earning vast lands.

However, reality struck Delysa.

She was a citizen of the Oungria Kingdom, from a background entirely disconnected from nobility.

This realization dampened her spirits, as she acknowledged that dreams of nobility were perhaps too far-fetched for someone of her standing.

The conflict raged on, with Resarite’s astute military tactics preventing Neplon from pinning down his scattered forces, leading to a simple yet prolonged siege.

Cotler, though brimming with excitement, lacked the strategic acumen for warfare.

His plans shifted daily, yet he never seemed to find the breakthrough he desperately sought.

A month later, Howard achieved a significant victory, seizing control of the entire territory of Croatia and Cotler’s remaining lands.

This success brought him to a familiar crossroads: the disposition of conquered nobles.

For most kings and nobles, such a moment would be a thrilling opportunity to indulge in map-gazing and power fantasies.

However, for Howard, a man deeply attuned to emotions, this phase brought more sorrow and regret than satisfaction.

The prospect of directly governing new territories or distributing them to others paled in comparison to the emotional toll it took on him.

Fortunately, the ideological discord between Cotler and Howard spared the latter from the indecision he had faced with Resarite.

With Bosiden drafting the document and Vettel’s full support, Cotler, Resarite’s son, was stripped of all his titles and reduced to a commoner.

Catherine, somewhat perplexed, queried Howard, “Weren’t Bosiden and Vettel deeply respectful of Resarite? How come they show no support for Resarite’s son in his downfall, even preparing to strip Cotler of all his titles?”

Howard shrugged and replied, “I don’t know.But since they both have taken this stance, I’m more than happy to go with the flow.”

As Resarite’s impending visit approached, Howard’s heart raced, accompanied by feelings of guilt and unease.

He retreated to his bedroom, a sanctuary from the impending emotional turmoil.

“What should I do? My old friend Resarite is coming to see me,” Howard confided in Catherine, his voice laced with uncertainty.

Catherine’s expression changed instantly.

“We need to thoroughly check him for weapons,” she advised with a hint of alarm.

“His visit at this time could be driven by a desire for revenge, potentially posing a threat to you.”

Howard waved his hand dismissively, “That shouldn’t be the case.”

But as the words left his mouth, a troubling thought struck him.

Why wouldn’t it be the case?

He had stripped Resarite’s family, who had painstakingly built their legacy, of all their lands.

their legacy, of all their lands.

If Resarite was indeed consumed by despair or thirst for revenge, what was truly impossible?

This realization made Howard gasp.

He turned to Catherine, acknowledging her insight belatedly, “You might have a point. Resarite’s hard-earned lands were lost under his son’s watch, and all of this happened during my reign. If he can’t swallow this bitter pill, meeting him alone could indeed be risky.”

A cold sweat broke out on Howard’s forehead.

Catherine, with a touch of coyness, suggested, “Then just don’t meet him. You’re the king, and he’s a commoner. If you decide not to see him, then you don’t.”

Howard pondered over her words.

Setting aside the labels of king and commoner, he realized that he indeed feared meeting Resarite.

So, he decided to let it be.

He stepped out into the corridor and instructed Golan to persuade Resarite to leave.

However, this time Resarite stubbornly refused to go.

Consequently, Howard asked Bosiden, who was familiar with Resarite, to try and persuade him.

Yet Bosiden’s attempts were futile.

Bosiden suggested that Vettel might succeed where he had failed, so Howard sent Vettel to try his luck.

Despite these efforts, Resarite remained unmoved.

To mask his inner turmoil, Howard busied himself with polishing his expensive Plate Armor and queried, “So, what exactly does he want?”

“He wants an explanation,” Bosiden responded.

A sense of dread settled in Howard’s heart, confirming his suspicions about the purpose of the visit.

“An explanation? What sort of explanation?” Howard retorted with a hint of frustration.

“According to the rules of nobility, after a rebellion, a lord has every right to strip a vassal of their lands. My actions were completely lawful. Why is he so relentless?”

Vettel, managing a stiff smile, said to Howard, “Indeed, we’ve tried reasoning with him. His son rebelled; it’s not your Majesty’s fault that the lands were confiscated afterward. But he’s a stubborn man and insists on hearing the explanation from you personally.”

With reluctance, Howard finally met with Resarite.

Time had changed him; his beard was thicker, suggesting a neglect of grooming.

Resarite still carried himself with a professional air, reminiscent of a military officer.

Yet now, devoid of any official title, Howard wondered for whom Resarite maintained this fa?ade.

Surrounded by guards, Howard also had Golan, Bosiden, and Vettel, three nobles, by his side for protection.

Observing this, Resarite scoffed, “Humph, Howard, so you’ve learned to hide behind others now?”

Howard replied with a wry smile, “Resarite, I’m a king now, with a whole family and kingdom depending on me. On a smaller scale, my family relies on me; on a grander scale, without me, the Oungria Kingdom might fall prey to the Osland Kingdom.”

As Resarite took a step towards Howard, the guards instinctively adjusted their spears towards him, their vigilance palpable.

Golan, with a silent sigh, rested his right hand on the sword at his left hip and warned, “Resarite, halt your steps. The man before you is the king.”

This content is taken from 𝑖𝘦.𝒸𝘰𝑚