CHAPTER 140: CHAPTER 138: I ROUGHLY CALCULATED, IT SHOULD BE 400 POUNDS OF GOLD

Early the next morning, just as the day was breaking, Qianqian set out for Joan of Arc Castle with two guards accompanying her.

Horn also got up early, beginning his practice of the Knight’s breathing technique with Jeanne by his side.

To be honest, Horn lacked the talent for growing muscles by eating shit.

He had been practicing the breathing technique for so long, yet he remained stuck at this rank, unable to advance or retreat, just trapped there.

It’s just like when Horn taught Jeanne the multiplication table, remembering the multiplication of seven, eight, and nine, he forgot the two, three, and four, and when he remembered the two, three, and four, he’d forget the seven, eight, and nine.

And yet, he wanted to learn Knight Sifal, a mental calculator for army provisions.

Horn had only a small request for Jeanne, that she first synchronize her cultural knowledge with that of a primary school student.

After yesterday’s sunny weather was replaced by dark smoke, it suddenly turned cold today.

A sinister wind swept under gray clouds, causing Horn to shiver.

Yet he continued to hold that twisted posture, breathing with difficulty, as if two hammers were hanging from his lungs.

Horn could even hear his bones creaking.

He gritted his teeth and persevered.

Despite possessing mana, Horn still needed the breathing technique to strengthen his body.

After all, as the Dangtu Chief, Horn could not neglect his practice. If he were to dance around and play divine tricks in the future, the endurance boost from the breathing technique would be indispensable to him.

Indeed, the breathing technique’s enhancement of physical strength and body toughness pales in comparison to its enhancement of endurance and load-bearing capacity.

One must know, the White Crystal Steel commonly used by Imperial Knights has more than twice the density of normal steel, yet they can move freely in armor and march long distances.

Sometimes the cattle and horses drop dead, but knights can still continue.

Of course, this is only comparing knights to commoners.

Within the knights, the enhancements from the Eight-Section Breathing Technique versus the Three-Section Breathing Technique on the body differ little; what differs is the load-bearing and endurance.

Meaning, when both sides are Extraordinary Knights, it is often the case that neither can subdue the other, but only tangle and compete in endurance.

Among Extraordinary Knights, those who can apply strong suppression or even execute a kill are often dubbed Champion Decree Knights.

The only downside is that mobility and combat power cannot be optimized at the same time. By the time they reach the Ninth Rank Knight stage, there are hardly any horses capable of carrying them for a charge.

Only a few scarce Magical Beast Horses, such as the Dragon Blood Horse or Devil Horse, have a starting bid of 200 gold pounds, with average sale prices around 800 gold pounds.

The subsequent maintenance costs are a sky-high expense.

After completing today’s breathing technique practice, Horn changed into clean clothes and sat again in front of the pile of ledgers, beginning to reluctantly correct them.

However, as he corrected, he frowned—something seemed off.

Before he could figure it out, urgent knocking sounded from outside the room.

"What’s happening?" Horn opened the door, and it was Duvalon, "You’re so jittery."

"Your Grace, your Grace, come quickly."

Without time for much explanation, Duvalon grabbed Horn’s hand, pulling him towards the camp entrance.

When Horn arrived there, a large crowd of refugees had already gathered at the gate.

They jostled against one another, peering towards the camp entrance and whispering amongst themselves.

Pushing through the noisy crowd, Horn reached the entrance, first stunned, then unable to suppress the anger in his eyes.

At the camp entrance, a group of thugs was gathered, led by an old acquaintance of Horn, the very guy who had once gone to Harbin to collect debts.

These thugs wore ragged clothes, draped in mottled fabrics and worn-out boots.

Their eyes sunk deep in their sockets, hair in disarray, scattered randomly at the back, as if never combed.

In stark contrast to their shabby attire, they wielded various weapons, ranging from sharp daggers to heavy Wolf Fang Clubs, all present.

Twisted, ugly smiles crept up their lips, revealing sharp, black-yellow teeth, occasionally waving their weapons, causing a gasp among the refugees.

This wasn’t what angered Horn. Behind them stood a small tree, beside which were three knights dressed like bandits.

Qianqian was tied to this tree by the thugs, his hands tightly bound behind him with rough hemp rope, tied to the tree.

His neckline was rudely opened, his two lumps of Slime Cocoon on his chest nowhere to be seen, and his skirt was torn, seemingly checked by the skeptical bandits.

If Qianqian were a woman, or if there were any bandits with different interests, he might have already fallen victim to them.

His fair neck had clear bruises from gripping, his cheeks and eyes were swollen, and blood streamed from his nose down to his chin.

"Are you the leader of this refugee camp?" Seeing the distinct vacuum circle around Horn, one knight shouted at Horn.

"Where are the two guards he had with him?" Horn coldly stared at their eyes.

"Oh, you know he had guards, eh? What is it? Are you on the same side as this horse thief?"

"He’s a comrade of our camp."

"No, this is not your comrade," the knight laughed, "this is someone I caught, neither human nor ghost, a horse thief!"

"Your Grace," a new elder named Ximus walked up beside Horn, "that’s a nearby Robber Knight called Snot."

"Who said I’m a Robber Knight?" The knight among the thugs laughed heartily, "Look carefully, this is signed by Buerwelf Bishop. Due to frequent tax protests lately, the Bishop has hired us to collect taxes."

As he spoke, he pulled out an appointment document from his pocket, which detailed, "Tax Collection Commissioner—Antolinavorska."

The signature on the appointment document was shockingly from Duke Danai Kush.

"What do you want? Money?"

"What do you mean what do we want?" The Snot Knight puffed up his chest, "Watch your mouth, I’m a knight. I came for the Duke’s honor, to make you tax-protesting peasants pay money."

"If we pay you the taxes, will you agree to release him?"

"If I receive the taxes I’m due and you plead a bit, my mood will surely be very good. With my mood being good, I’ll release him. What do you think?"

"Alright, please wait a moment while I have someone fetch the money for you."

Just as Horn turned around, the Robber Knight halted him: "Wait a moment, don’t take us for fools. You fetch it yourself and personally deliver it to us."

Horn took a deep breath, suppressing his anger: "I understand, 180 gold pounds, right."

"Eh, wait a minute." The knight called out again.

Under everyone’s gaze, the leading knight maintained a seemingly polite smile: "What 180 gold pounds, you’ve got it wrong, haven’t you?

I am someone who’s honest, charging exactly what is due, not a penny less, not a penny more, and you folks owe 21,386 Dinars, isn’t that right?"

Horn stared at his eyes, silent.

"I roughly calculated," the knight said leisurely, "it’s actually 400 gold pounds!"