Knight: Becoming King of the World

The rising of the host and the three other Barons brought the three-hour welcome banquet to an end. The other Knights drained their cups as well, rising to salute Henry and bid him farewell.

Time slipped by as the moon climbed high into the sky. For the first time, the streets of Westwood Laine were brightly lit.

The nobles’ carriages made their way to the tavern, where the most luxurious rooms awaited them.

The tavern’s proprietor, a shrewd middle-aged man, personally stood at the entrance to welcome each noble, his face wreathed in an attentive smile.

He was an exiled noble whose grandfather and father had been adept at business. Now, he served under Henry as the tavern’s "proprietor"—or rather, its manager.

"Welcome, my esteemed guests," he said, signaling for the attendants to take the horses’ reins and guide the carriages to the stables in the side courtyard.

Inside the luxurious rooms in the tavern’s rear courtyard, exquisite tapestries and plush carpets created an opulent atmosphere. Each guest room was furnished with a fireplace, the firelight dancing on the walls and chasing away the evening chill.

Henry had these rooms specially prepared for his high-status guests, though they also served to earn a hefty lodging fee from wealthy, free-spending merchants.

The nobles shed their heavy, formal attire and changed into lighter clothing, preparing to enjoy a comfortable night. Of course, there were also some restless nobles who intended to head to the main hall of the tavern to seek some amusement.

The main hall of the tavern was abuzz with activity. Caravan merchants and Free People alike had seized the opportunity to gather there.

Nobles tended to be generous only in places like taverns, which often meant an unexpected windfall for those present.

’So many nobles have come today. Maybe one of them will throw a fortune around to flaunt their wealth? You know nobles; they’re capable of anything.’

Merchants boasted as they displayed their goods, from spices shipped in from the central and southern lands to exquisite textiles, all in an attempt to draw the eyes of others.

The Free People, for their part, gathered around the hearth, talking about the upcoming Wolf Hunting Festival. Their eyes would unconsciously sweep over the nobles, as if they were debating which one was the most skilled.

Children darted through the crowd, not understanding why so many adults had packed the tavern tonight. All they knew was that they could run around and play to their hearts’ content.

"According to grassland tradition, there will be a grand competition during the Wolf Hunting Festival tomorrow. I wonder who will be the final winner."

"It will be the benevolent and powerful Baron Henry, of course. He’s the hero of our border battles!" the person next to him declared, their voice swelling with pride.

In a corner of the tavern, a Minstrel was strumming a Lute from the Mizea region, its melodious tune drifting through the air.

"On the distant grasslands~ the wolf packs were the herdsmen’s nightmare~ Brave Cavalry Bowmen stepped forward~ With their courage and wisdom~ they guarded this land..."

The Minstrel’s voice was clear and full of feeling, causing many to pause and listen. A generous merchant tossed a few Silver Coins his way, eliciting a new round of cheers.

The noble Knights watched the bustling tavern, speechless with envy. ’When will our own fiefs ever see a sight like this?’

’And what’s the deal with these Free People? Why are they so fiercely loyal to Henry? Is it possible he doesn’t tax them and just hands out money instead?’

On this night, be they merchants, Free People, or children, everyone’s heart was filled with anticipation for the next day’s Wolf Hunting Festival.

When the first rays of sunlight pierced the veil of night, Westwood Laine was already a scene of bustling activity.

The nobles were clad in the Heraldic Armor of their respective families. These suits of armor were not merely for protection; they were symbols of their bearers’ status and honor.

Exquisite patterns were engraved upon each suit of armor, showcasing the history and traditions of their respective families.

Knight’s Squires bustled about among the nobles, checking their masters’ equipment and ensuring every single arrowhead was razor-sharp.

The hunting hounds Edmund had brought circled excitedly at his feet. Their keen sense of smell and agile movements would be a powerful asset during the hunt.

"Edmund, your armor is polished so bright I can see my reflection," Henry teased.

Edmund adjusted the feathered ornament on his helmet. "Baron Henry, we have to show off our skills today. Let’s show those Knights what a Baron is truly capable of."

Calvin, meanwhile, was off to one side inspecting his heavy bow. "Hunting wolves is dull. I’d rather fight a black bear, but I do enjoy this challenge. Today, we’ll see who the true Warrior is."

Henry clapped Calvin on the shoulder. "Calvin, your courage is unmatched, but I won’t be going easy on you... If you don’t want to blow a Grassland Wolf’s head to smithereens, you’d best trade that heavy bow for a hunting bow or a Light Recurve Bow."

Baron Calvin and his Knights and Attendants stared at each other in dismay. He realized he didn’t even have a light bow!

Under Henry’s seemingly casual gaze, Calvin requested to go to Henry’s armory to purchase a light bow.

After receiving Henry’s permission, Calvin followed Vasco’s lead to the barracks.

Calvin noted that Vasco wasted no words; his stride was vigorous, steady, and powerful. "How many battles have you fought in Baron Henry’s army?" he asked.

"Two major battles, and the recent war for the fiefdom."

Calvin looked at Vasco with a touch of envy. ’This is an excellent Warrior.’

The armory’s keeper was an experienced, one-armed old soldier. After learning what Calvin needed, he quickly recommended several light bows.

Calvin carefully selected a bow whose feel and weight he found reasonably satisfactory. After completing the transaction, he returned to the group of nobles.