Chapter 577: The Manor

The Tuck Mountains.

The forests on both sides were dense, and a path wound through the shade, with butterflies flitting through the green grass.

Wu Ming rode atop a tall horse, with Beatrice sitting quietly in his arms, watching the scene unfold before him with a sense of serenity.

After passing through this forest, scattered fields appeared along the roadside. Farmers paused their work, looking on in astonishment at the two nobles.

After all, merely from their attire and demeanor, the farmers could tell that important figures had arrived—certainly not young lords or ladies out for a spring outing.

“I’m going to visit the home of Sir Caslow. Who among you will guide me?”

Wu Ming called out.

“Young man, state your purpose first!” an elderly farmer stood up, holding a sickle. His hands were calloused, his eyes sharp, and his physique imposing, suggesting prior military training.

“I have come to visit the widow and daughter of Sir Carlos!”

Wu Ming replied directly.

The archbishop had not lied on one point: the sacred oil treasured by Count Lanshan for knightly anointments had indeed run out. Wu Ming’s lord regretfully informed him that if he wished to undergo knighthood, he would have to wait until winter unless he was willing to accept a gift from either the Church or Viscount Garcia.

Obviously, Wu Ming immediately declined and decided to proceed to his own territory for investiture.

This time, Count Lanshan readily allowed him to go and even issued a certificate. Of course, there were practically no more territories left to grant throughout the entire Windfly Plains.

But Wu Ming was very fortunate. His lord, Count Lanshan, had just suffered a defeat, losing several knights, and thus a few manors had become available.

This was also why Count Lanshan could promise to enfeoff the champion of the jousting tournament.

Although such a powerful noble had great strength, he was still constrained by his subordinate nobles. Compared to the reformist determination of the outsider Garcia, he was somewhat lacking.

“You want to see the lady?”

The old farmer’s hand trembled, his body even beginning to shake slightly, his face showing fear.

“Come then, Old Joever will take you to where you wish to go!”

He took a deep breath and slowly said, giving a signal to the young man behind him.

The young farmer didn’t move, but a child nearby, holding straw, was startled and quickly dropped the tools, dashing away in a flash.

“Let’s go!”

Wu Ming seemed not to notice the small movement at all, simply saying.

Joever put down his sickle, took out a piece of straw, put it in his mouth, and cheerfully led the way.

First, he led Wu Ming to an orchard, filled with apple trees, their branches and leaves lush. It would surely become a beautiful sea of blossoms during the flowering season in April or May.

Underneath the orchard lay a cemetery, with many names carved into the white marble stones. There were commoners’ mounds, as well as several tombs constructed from marble, resembling noble mausoleums.

“We are descendants of the Tuck Mountain people; we fight for freedom!”

An inscription was carved at the entrance to the cemetery.

“Tuck Mountain people?”

Wu Ming smiled.

“That’s right… our ancestors were wild folk. We carry the blood of barbarians and will retaliate against all tyranny!”

Old Joever met Wu Ming’s gaze fearlessly.

“What a clever old fellow you are. Have you already guessed something? Unfortunately, it’s of no use…”

Wu Ming said, “I can overlook your insolence and deception, but before nightfall, I must see Lady Carlos!!”

Joever hesitated, realizing his plan to stall for time had been seen through.

After all, he was still a serf. Although he had once been a mercenary and gained some experience, he still dared not truly confront a noble.

In any case, he had already led the other party on a long detour, achieving his goal. He then smiled, revealing teeth yellowed and blackened: “Of course, our lady is a kind and benevolent person, and also very hospitable!”

This time Joever didn’t try any tricks, but it was nearly nightfall when Wu Ming finally arrived at the residence of Sir Carlos.

With a knight’s financial means, building a castle was beyond his capacity, so the family lived in a large wooden villa.

The oak floor, sandalwood steps and window sills, and the silk curtains with red roof tiles—all these things brought a nostalgic gleam to Beatrice’s eyes.

In front of the villa, several anxious women were already waiting.

“Traveler from afar, I am the local hostess Amilia. State your purpose!”

The widow of Sir Carlos appeared to be around thirty years old, with fair skin and tall figure, a rare beauty.

Behind her were two girls, one seemingly about fifteen or sixteen years old, and another even younger, both dressed in noble attire, curiously eyeing the stranger.

Wu Ming scratched his nose, finally understanding the ambiguous smile and jealousy from Baron Terry.

“My name is William! William Wallace! I have been enfeoffed by Lord Lanshan and will become the new lord of the Carlos territory!”

Although it felt somewhat like bullying a widow and orphans, Wu Ming had no intention of giving up what was rightfully his, stating directly.

Upon hearing this, he saw the lady’s body tremble, and after showing her the enfeoffment certificate bearing Lord Lanshan’s seal and signature, Amilia’s face turned even paler.

“No!”

She cried out, causing the two girls behind her to tremble and clutch at her skirt.

“This is against the law! I will appeal to the other nobles! Count Lanshan has violated the sacred agreement among nobles; his appointment is invalid!”

“I’m sorry!”

Wu Ming’s voice was cold; he had prepared himself before arriving: “Sir Carlos died honorably in battle, but he left no male heir, not even a close male relative who could inherit the title. In the absence of an heir, unable to fulfill the duty of loyalty to the lord, it is reasonable and lawful for the lord to reclaim the fief!”

“Gods, may dragons take you away!”

Lady Amilia’s face was filled with despair, tears streaming down her cheeks as she hugged her two daughters, sobbing bitterly.

She knew that everything her husband had would be taken away. The young man before her would soon reside in her grand home, issuing commands over the territory. If things got worse, she and her daughters might be driven out, facing the world’s hostility in hunger and cold.

“It’s getting late, my lady. Won’t you invite us for dinner?”

Seeing Beatrice tugging at his sleeve with obvious reluctance, Wu Ming could only say helplessly.

Lady Amilia was a strong woman. After her sobbing, she finally stood up, lifting her skirt to bow to Wu Ming: “Kind lord, I hope you can grant me and my poor daughters a little time!”

Perhaps seeing that only Wu Ming and Beatrice had come, a flicker of unusual hope appeared in her eyes.

“Of course!”

Wu Ming pretended not to notice and entered the villa with Beatrice, sharing dinner with the obviously troubled female host.

…

“My lord!”

Late at night, Beatrice, who shared the same room with Wu Ming, said: “That lady…”

“I know… get some rest now. There will be an interesting scene tomorrow!”

Wu Ming had already seen through everything, speaking in a wise tone. The lady’s choices were indeed very limited.

The next morning, breakfast was golden fried egg pancakes and two slices of toasted bread.

As Wu Ming was elegantly eating, Amilia appeared in the hall with her two daughters, clearly dressed up, having regained her confidence and charm, and stated her condition: “You can inherit my husband’s territory, but you must marry one of my daughters!”

Obviously, after a night of deep contemplation and limited options, Lady Amilia had found her way to preserve what she could.

“My lord! We hope we can please you!”

The two young girls, one older and one younger, blushed but still curtsied to Wu Ming, causing Beatrice beside them to swallow a large mouthful of milk in displeasure.

“If… I refuse, or…”

Wu Ming’s face bore a strange smile: “What if I have my eyes on the lady herself?”

“Hell and damnation!” Lady Amilia’s face flushed red: “I knew you were a shameless scoundrel, but this is still my domain. You can only choose according to my terms!”

In her heart, she lamented that today’s actions would bear bitter fruit in the future.

Even if he was forced to make a choice under her pressure, once he took control of the territory in the future, he would likely retaliate.

But compared to future retaliation, she still had to drink from this cup of honeyed wine laced with poison.

“Oh? Based on those people out there?”

Wu Ming placed the last piece of egg pancake into his mouth, then wiped his lips with a white napkin before grabbing his sword and opening the villa door.

Outside in the small square, a dense crowd of farmers had already gathered, holding pitchforks and sickles, led by Joever and the steward he had met the day before, staring at him nervously.

“What are you…”

Wu Ming’s voice grew louder: “What do you think you’re doing? Defying your lord? Don’t you know that alone gives me the right to hang you all!”

In this era, a chasm separated nobles and commoners. Insulting a noble was a capital offense for a commoner, while a noble killing a subject from his own land required a reason, and if the victim belonged to another noble, monetary compensation was required by law.

Therefore, as soon as he spoke, several farmers nervously took a step back.

“Don’t be afraid; he’s just bluffing!”

The old steward shouted forcefully, but was immediately struck to the ground by a swiftly approaching figure, his nose broken and blood flowing.

Whoosh!

A flash of swordlight, and Joever’s hands ached as his sword snapped in two. Seeing the other farmers lying on the ground and the arrogant, swift figure, a single thought emerged, and he couldn’t help exclaiming: “Knight!”