Lord Of The Oasis

Kant had stayed for one night in an inn at the Stone Pa.s.s in the past.

However, he had not truly ventured out before.

As a n.o.ble, a conferred Baron, there were some things that he did not have to do personally.

From the Lion Fort in South County, he rode on a comfortable carriage to reach the Stone Pa.s.s in North County. Swadian peasants who accompanied him along the journey were in charge of purchasing goods. They completed these miscellaneous ch.o.r.es wonderfully.

The next day. At dawn.

It was still early, so they took advantage of the cold to enter the Nahrin Desert and begin their journey.

Kant turned around and looked at the butler beside him who was leading the way.

The middle-aged man's expression was normal, it was as if he had already become used to this sort of dirty environment as well as the slightly pungent smell. He walked forward as if he did not mind at all, even when his leather boots stepped into a puddle of sewage water, casing turbid liquid to splash all over the place.

Stopping his footsteps briefly.

Kant avoided droplets from the splash of sewage.

At the academy surrounded by an academic atmosphere, or in the castle that was always cleaned, Kant's status made it so that he had never come into contact with the life of a bottom feeder. It was filthy, messy, and just plain terrible.

Even at the Oasis Lookout, because of the system, it was kept particularly clean and hygienic.

The leather boots rubbed against the rocks.

After everyone had entered the Stone Pa.s.s, Kant immediately mounted his horse.

Manid and the cavalrymen behind him also mounted their horses. They frowned as they looked at the dilapidated houses around them, as well as the poor people in shabby clothes. Their rating of the Stone Pa.s.s had gone down a bit.

Although the continent of Caradia was plagued with wars, hygiene was, at the very least, still guaranteed.

This was probably due to the design of the Turkish couple.

Kant, of course, knew this very well.

To be honest.

Whether it was the academy, the Castle of Leo, or the bustling City of Lion's Heart, all the places that Kant had lived in were considered clean.

As for the places he had not yet visited.

For example, small villages, a knight's fief, or other gathering places outside castles…

The environment of those places would probably be similar to this place.

A large number of bankrupt peasants or people without any a.s.sets lived in these slums. Their clothes were ragged while their bodies were just bags of bones. Their bulging eyes due to hunger had no life in them, instead, they revealed an indifference to life along with fatigue of powerlessness.

This world of swords and magic was similar to that of Medieval Europe on Earth.

Kant narrowed his eyes slightly.

The butler leading the way had also got on a skinny old horse.

He turned around and continued to humbly lead the way and greet Kant. At the same time, his eyes swept over to glance at the desert horses that the Sarrandian Hors.e.m.e.n and the desert bandits were riding behind him. He could not help but feel a little envious.

He could not help but exclaim, "They are all high-cla.s.s warhorses. I imagine only the Lion Fort has them, right?"

It was clear that he had misunderstood something.

Kant did not know how to explain. He only said faintly, "As long as they are well-fed, they are high-cla.s.s warhorses."

The butler noticed the distance in Kant's words. He nodded humbly in agreement and did not continue to say anything further.

The butler also had an idea of what was going on.

He was just a servant. Although by relying on Baron Dylan, he could be arrogant towards those poor people, it did not mean that he could be rude, even if a little bit, to Kant who was beside him.

Kant, the Baron of the Nahrin Desert, the King

The blood of lions flowed in his veins.

He was, essentially, a n.o.ble.

Even if rumors among the n.o.bles spoke of Baron Kant as someone who was exiled to the Nahrin Desert, it was not something that servants like him could talk about. It was the difference in status, the suppression of cla.s.ses.

They continued along the street and went deeper into the Stone Pa.s.s.

The fortress at the pa.s.s was actually quite well-built.

The lumberyards and quarries at the Senwaya Range provided a large amount of high-quality stone and wood materials to this place.

For example, when entering the south side of the pa.s.s, the number of houses built with stone and wood also increased.

The outfits of pedestrians were no longer shabby or ragged. Although they still looked rather skinny, one could detect vigor in each of their eyes. Obviously, these were civilians in the Stone Pa.s.s who were considered useful.

In other words, these people had jobs. They were taxpayers and back-up recruits during wars.

If they were in the city, they should be called citizens.

Now, the civilians were still surprised by Kant's arrival from the north. They looked curiously at the Sarrandian horseman and the desert bandits riding on their majestic warhorses.

At the same time, they also expressed their admiration for their clean and tidy outfits.

However, there were also people with very sharp eyes.

As the five Sarrandian Hors.e.m.e.n rode and urged their horses forward, their linen robes fluttered in the wind, revealing the iron hoops and armor plates that were tightly wound together – the Sarrandian chain mail. Those who had looked closer and carefully widened their eyes as they saw these.

No matter who it was, those who could wear iron armor were all brave soldiers.

In fact, their guesses were also correct.

As a Level Four troop cla.s.s, the Sarrandian Horseman was considered a core force in the later stages of the game.

As for top-tier Level Five troop cla.s.ses such as the mamluke, they were only considered elites due to their scarcity. They were usually sent into battlefields cautiously and could only be treated and used as consumables in the final battles.

Thus, the Sarrandian Hors.e.m.e.n could completely stand on their own.

However, amidst the admiring crowd, a few skinny figures were hiding in the shadows in the corner.

Looking at Kant ride his horse towards the mansion of Baron Dylan, their faces seemed a little solemn.

Clearly, they knew each other.

They exchanged glances with each other. Then, they nodded slightly, put on their hoods, and left separately.

Wooden houses where civilians lived filled both sides of the street.

These figures in hoods were not attention-grabbing. The main reason was that North County was frequented by sandstorms and it was very convenient and common for people to put on a hood.

They made seven or eight turns.

Finally, they arrived at a hidden alley somewhere.

After turning around and ensuring that no one was around, they went into a wooden house in the alley, found a bas.e.m.e.nt, and entered it in a single file.

The expected narrow storage bas.e.m.e.nt did not appear.

Instead, it was a slanted pa.s.sage leading downward. The stairs went underground for about five meters. After that, another wooden door appeared. The leader pushed the door open, and illuminated by the light of the candle, a different world was revealed.

It was a s.p.a.ce of around 50 square meters and logs were used to support this underground bas.e.m.e.nt.

Another door was on the side. It looked like it would lead to somewhere else.

However, in the middle, a hooded man wearing a hood sat on a chair. He held a quill and was writing something quickly. Nonetheless, he still sensed that they had returned. He asked, "What happened?"

"Lord."

The leader took a step forward and bowed his head respectfully. At the same time, he said, "Baron Kant is here."

The quill stopped moving for a brief moment.

A drop of ink dripped and left a mark on the slightly yellowed straw paper.

"What?" The man raised his head. He was middle-aged, but his eyes were unusually sharp.

"Baron Kant is here. He wants to meet with Baron Dylan at dusk. Right now, the butler is leading him to the official residence. 26 people are accompanying him. According to my observations, there is one servant, five cavalrymen wearing iron armor, and 10 cavalrymen in leather armor."

The man reported quickly. It was simple, quick, and the content was clear.

"Hah! De didn't die in the desert."

The man sitting on the chair nodded. The quill pen which was originally used to write at an incredible speed was also placed on the side.

He lowered his head slightly. The hood hid his entire face in the darkness. Only his voice could be heard. "I understand. You guys continue to follow Baron Kant. If any situation arises, remember to report it in time."

"I understand." The skinny figures nodded.

"Leave." He waved his hand.

As the people left, the room instantly became empty again.

The sound of the door closing filled the s.p.a.ce.

The candlelight flickered slightly in the wind.

The light in the room also flickered.

"Interesting." The person murmured.

He raised his head slightly, and his eyes also flickered with the candlelight. With a playful tone, "After the death of Princess Sofia 16 years ago, how many of those who infiltrated the Silver Platter Kingdom remain? "

If a higher-ranking n.o.ble were present, he would easily remember many things from these words.

Princess Sofia.

The eldest princess from the Silver Platter Kingdom.

A duke of the court with royal blood conferred by the Silver Platter Kingdom.

The second lawful wife of Cameron, the King of the Dukedom of Leo.

And…

Baron Kant's mother, who died early from illness.