CHAPTER 90: CHAPTER 31: ABSURD RUMORS! (PART 2)

Interesting.

Duncan looked down at Clegane, who was kneeling before him. The man had five or six whip scars on his body, and bullet wounds on his bare chest, appearing every bit the seasoned rider who had been through many battles.

Despite still bearing wounds, he was as fierce as a wolf.

The Sarmatians are indeed formidable!

Duncan seemed to have thought of something, ignoring the hesitation of the others, and with a clang, drew the Oathkeeper from his waist. Under the bright moonlight, the blade forged from Damascus steel was intimidating, its edge sharp and menacing. Duncan placed the blade flat on the shoulder of the Sarmatian rider who was kneeling on one knee.

"Humility, mercy, bravery, sacrifice, honor!"

Duncan only uttered five words, then stared into Clegane’s eyes with a gaze as deep as the abyss. That intense gaze inspired awe in this fierce rider, but he still bravely lifted his head, chest out, and stood straight, trembling slightly as if he realized something.

Duncan glanced around, then slapped him across the face with a crisp sound that echoed far in the night sky, his expression solemn and dignified as he said in a deep voice, "I, Duncan from the Imperial Pannonia."

"Lord of Southampton."

"Ally of the Duke of Dingtiger! Responding to the covenant to help the Britons resist the invading Barbarian Race’s leader! The one who shot the King of Kent at Tintagel!"

"In the name of God and all the gods, I confer upon you the title of knight!"

In the dark woods.

The other captives present were stunned, especially the British Legion infantry, who wore a shocked and regretful expression.

The information shock was too much in an instant.

Is he a lord?

An ally found by the Duke of Dingtiger? Reinforcements requested from the Empire? He also killed the King of Kent?

No wonder the Barbarian Race soldiers in Devon town were so anxious.

Before others could react, Clegane had already stood up excitedly, positioning himself directly behind Duncan, as if he were a personal guard knight to the lord.

Whether others believed it or not, he already did.

A man brave enough to single-handedly charge into a Saxon-occupied town had no reason to deceive them on such a matter.

The British Legion infantry hurriedly knelt on one knee, and the other captives followed suit, looking at Duncan expectantly.

But that was all.

Clegane was the first to swear loyalty to Duncan, and because of his bravery, he was bestowed a knighthood. The other captives were just ordinary soldiers in his eyes, not worthy of being knighted. Granting a knighthood means giving a substantial piece of land.

Southampton hasn’t even been conquered yet, and he’s running out of land to grant.

Duncan looked at the other captives and said blandly, "Since you are all willing to follow me, then go with Clegane to Cornwall."

"My fleet will soon bring grain and weapons over from Carthage."

Finishing his speech, he looked at the upright Clegane beside him, instructing in a deep voice, "I have an imperial private legion in the Gaul region, with about three hundred people, some of whom are temporarily recruited soldiers."

"Since you have been knighted, command and train them on my behalf."

Sarmatians are trainers for the British legion, tasked with training cavalry, occasionally infantry, in the empire’s military tradition.

Whenever the battlefield sees the dragon head banner, there will certainly be an elite cavalry unit.

In the future, the cavalry can carry the imperial dragon banner.

"Yes, my lord!" Clegane responded promptly, pounding his chest with his right fist.

Sigh.

It wasn’t until Clegane led the other dejected captives away that Duncan had time to ponder over his pitifully short mana bar.

His human form was once a blacksmith’s apprentice.

He had imagined such a scene before, but never thought it would be applied here.

Let this serve as a lesson in valuing a rare opportunity.

In these times, knighthood signifies real power, unlike the Middle Ages where knights were common, many carrying empty titles, such as foot knights. Now, knights are awarded land, akin to the titles of the Qin and Han dynasties, directly linked to land, though not extensive, it is still the level of a small landowner.

Duncan wasn’t planning to make grand strides; his plan was to establish the hierarchy of knights, free men, and tenant farmers to minimize the influence of slavery.

In the current era, abolition of slavery is impossible, but reducing the oppression of civilians into slavery would suffice.

"Indeed."

"I’m no different from people discussing online in my previous life, wanting to be an emperor while not wanting to be troubled with state affairs every day."

"Honestly, I just want to be a carefree prince with the power of an emperor but without responsibilities."

Duncan had truly started building his empire and felt grateful to have Triss, Anya, and Severus around, as handling trivial affairs alone would be overwhelming.

For this expedition, he carried two quivers with about one hundred twenty arrows, stored near the forest’s tree hollows, and now needed to replenish them.

As morning light spilled.

The town called Devon was a mess, with traces of fires burning not far away.

Blood Axe - Nidhron was furious, his eyes bloodshot, watching his men pull out each comrade’s corpse. The Barbarian Race priest was placed at the front, an arrow to the throat and forehead, killed on the spot. The other bodies were similar, shot in vital areas, with two victims having their skulls split open by Francian flying axes.