Sheriff had just arrived in the North and set off again without taking a day of rest. It wasn't because Derrick was exploiting him, but because preparations had to be made in advance. Once winter passed, the Kingdom of the Holy Cross would definitely strike again, and the situation could be even worse by then. Internally, the Kingdom of Locke had reached a political tipping point, which was evident from the attitudes of the local nobles. In the end, the issue came down to the distribution of power. He believed that, if the opportunity arose, the southern nobles and the royal faction would definitely seize the chance to deplete his strength. The Saint-Michel Province had no governor due to special reasons, nor was there a nominal supreme commander, making this year a tough one. In this situation, Derrick couldn’t afford to rely on anyone else. He didn’t hold any blind loyalty to the king, but his territory lay right on the front line. The Birch Fortress was certainly one of the best routes for the Kingdom of the Holy Cross to advance westward. Some might argue that the Holy Cross had suffered enough at the Birch Fortress and would choose another route, but with endless deceitful tactics, no one knew what allies might pull off. And perhaps someone might want to use the name of Birch Fortress to prove a point—right, Sword of God, Count Connor?

Sheriff braved the light snow with a group of attendants as they began their journey east. The Kingdom of the Holy Cross and the Kingdom of Locke both shared the same origins, and despite frequent wars, their nobles’ dealings never ceased. War was war, business was business, and personal ties were personal ties. That was the rule of the time, and some situations seemed absurd, such as captured nobles attending victory banquets together as equals—not as prisoners. Because, in the end, war was just a game between relatives, with the losers drinking toasts. The swordplay and decaying romance of the nobility were always ongoing. Sheriff’s group naturally didn’t attract attention. In fact, except during the most intense periods of war, the nobility’s business dealings never stopped. However, traveling at this time of year was difficult. It took Sheriff half a month to reach his destination. The person he was visiting was not from the western territories of the Kingdom of the Holy Cross but had stayed in the area due to the war. The defeat had dealt a blow to him, and his political enemies were quick to seize the opportunity for a public assault. Count Connor, the Sword of God, was in a very difficult position. Yet, to say this one event would completely bring him down was wishful thinking. Even after several more defeats, the king wouldn’t consider retiring him. However, Connor was feeling down because he had to explain to the nobility that the king’s latest orders had been issued. Connor had been stripped of his title as legion commander and demoted to a reserve position. Next time the war went on the offensive, he wouldn’t be in command.

"Father, this may be a good thing. The Lockians are too difficult to deal with, and I don't think a counteroffensive will succeed." His son tried to comfort him. "Hmph! What do you know? If I were the commander, I’d certainly contact the barbarians to join the fight. They didn’t gain much this time, and if they want to sit on the sidelines again, they’ll be too passive. With a two-pronged attack, the chances of recovering the Saint-Michel Province will be high." Connor had long considered the plan. If the barbarians didn’t gain much this time, they would probably take a few years to recover. But the people they took from the Saint-Michel Province were intercepted, essentially making their effort wasted. Their mission to stall the two kingdoms had been completed, but without growth, they had lost their momentum. If the Kingdom of the Holy Cross offered them benefits, it wouldn’t be impossible to convince them. Besides, with a winter of preparation, both the king and the church had been well-prepared to prevent the Lockians from taking advantage.

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Many viewed this counteroffensive as a great opportunity to achieve merit. "Do you think the new legion commander will forget about the barbarians? Do you still have a chance?" "Don’t think about it. The new commander would be foolish not to take them into account. If the appointment has already been made, the messenger is probably already in the barbarians' territory." Connor didn’t think he was the only one who had considered this. The Lockian messenger was probably already there, too. As for how the barbarians would choose, it all depended on their king and the messenger’s abilities. Still, Connor believed the barbarians wouldn’t make the wrong choice. That’s why he was frustrated—he had missed a chance to redeem his honor.

Just as father and son were discussing in front of the fire, a servant suddenly entered. "My lord, there is a guest to see you." Connor froze for a moment, realizing the person who could have news brought to him was no ordinary guest. This didn’t look like the proper way to receive a visitor. "He claims to be Sheriff Ferreira from the Kingdom of Locke." The name was unfamiliar, but Connor had paid attention to the Ferreira surname after the recent war. "Ah, he's related to the northern knight Derrick," Connor accurately guessed the visitor’s identity. "Interesting, it seems this northern knight is not only an excellent general, but also a politician. I wonder how good he is." Connor was intrigued. If Derrick had sent someone at this moment, it was clear they had some objective. He was curious to see how politically skilled this man was. He was not opposed to making deals and maintaining private connections between their families. To put it bluntly, if one day he was captured on the battlefield, at least mentioning his name could offer some advantage. "Let him in. I want to see what this northern knight wants." Connor settled back into his chair, even reclining a bit, pulling the blanket back over his legs.

If it were a domestic noble, he would maintain his dignity, especially in such a time as this, where he couldn’t afford to give anyone any reason to make assumptions. But with a visitor from the Kingdom of Locke, it was better to be informal, even private, for the sake of smoother communication. Besides, there was no dignity to maintain. After just being thoroughly beaten, trying to act tough would only invite ridicule. Soon, the weary Sheriff entered. "A greenhorn," Connor mused, "If it were me, I’d tidy myself up before coming in." However, being a greenhorn wasn’t necessarily a disadvantage; persistence could be a virtue. "Looks like today will either go very smoothly or very badly."