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Knight Legend
Barbarian! Barbarian!

Barbarian! Barbarian!

"I've never heard of the Ferreira family," Harvey Garcia said with an arrogant expression, tinged with an accent that didn't belong to the North.

"I just returned from the capital and am not very familiar with the countryside… Sorry, I don't know much about the Ferreira family. I heard you're here to buy iron ore?"

Suppressing his discomfort, Derek forced a smile. "Yes, I heard your family has recently discovered a mine, and I hope to acquire a portion of the yield."

"Hah! Matters like this should be discussed with Baron Ferreira. Besides... I’m afraid we don’t have much to spare for you."

Harvey continued casually, even shrugging as if he were being humorous. "You know, iron ore is in short supply these days. We need to stockpile some, and when friends come to visit, we need to provide some help. By the way, does your family acquire iron ore for personal use? You must have some spare blacksmiths. If you're willing to offer them to my friends, once they achieve some military exploits, maybe they can give you a bit back—perhaps a knight's fief? You understand what I mean, right, Knight Derek?"

Well! Derek understood; he had set his sights on their iron mine, and they had their eyes on his manpower. Perhaps they even intended to take the entire Ferreira family in as dogs. As for who they would pledge loyalty to, it was definitely some foreign noble.

Derek almost laughed in anger. He didn’t even want to align himself with Count Perez, let alone with the Garcia family.

"Sorry, young master Harvey, but you've probably been away from the North for too long and forgotten the valiance of the North. Your friends would likely just be picking up scraps when they arrive; they aren't worthy of flaunting themselves before me. Remember, it’s me," Derek said, flipping the table on their conversation.

What a worthless baron family! They’d soon learn what reality looked like if provoked. Harvey had never expected Derek to turn hostile. In his eyes, a country noble would surely rush to curry favor when he offered an olive branch. After all, the young nobles of the capital held certain political resources of the kingdom.

Many of them obtained a knight's fief without having to fight hard; that was a dream pathway for many. How dare he?

As Derek prepared to leave, Harvey, humiliated and furious, shouted, "Od, Od, teach this uncouth countryman a lesson!"

The Garcia family managed to wedge themselves into the kingdom's political circles, which still bore some strength. This second son, who had long lived in the capital, even kept a band of men at his disposal.

Hearing his call, several warriors moved to block Derek’s path. Suddenly, Adrian, who had been quietly following Derek, exploded into action, his shoulders sinking as he forcefully shoved the blocking warriors aside.

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These seemingly strong warriors fell like leaves before a storm. Without looking back, Derek marched straight through the gap he’d created.

As he passed by the fallen warriors, he suddenly halted, reaching for one’s waist to draw out a longsword. The quality was decent. Derek examined it briefly and, in one swift motion, sheathed it behind him.

The blade glimmered as it whizzed past, embedding itself an inch deep into the wall.

Buzz! By the time Harvey realized what had happened, the sword was already lodged in the wall, not in his body.

"Od, are you useless? I paid you so much to protect me, and this is how you do it?"

Harvey seethed with anger, unable to accept that he had been humiliated by a country noble. More importantly, the men he relied on were so weak.

Od felt helpless; that guy’s strength was too great. Besides, the Northern noble's speed had been astonishing; he hadn't even reacted in time.

So, he had to endure the scolding as he stepped forward, trying to pull out the sword, straining several times before finally succeeding.

Looking at the deep hole left in the wall, Od fell into thought. Were Northern nobles really that fierce?

If so, what was the point? They might as well turn back home. After all, it would either be the Northern nobles beating the barbarians or the so-called fiercer barbarians beating them up.

But then he thought about his master, Harvey, who seemed pitifully weak; could this really be the norm?

Derek had no idea he had made a warrior doubt his life choices. After leaving the Garcia family, he took a warhorse and fled.

Having offended the local tyrant, could he really rely on the other party's mercy?

He believed he was brave, but didn’t realize he could trip over himself. This encounter had shown Derek the nauseating face of nobility.

The nobles he had visited before either respected the introducer, were impressed by the Ferreira family’s reputation, or shared a common identity as Northern nobles. In short, he had received respect.

But once those facades were gone, the true faces would emerge. The Garcia family wouldn’t be the first; Derek’s understanding of this era deepened.

Adrian was also indignant. No matter how much he knew, he hadn’t experienced anything like this; facing it was simply frustrating.

"Derek, should we continue?"

"Of course. A true man can endure hardship and adapt. Brother Adrian, the suffering we face now will serve as tales of our future success. Trust me, once we succeed, the Garcia family will come to apologize," Derek said, serving a bowl of encouragement.

Adrian felt invigorated again. Face? Derek was clearer than most; it wasn’t worth much.

The road ahead remained difficult. Derek had witnessed various faces; war indeed allowed certain people to profit immensely, and even some merchants dared to look down on him as a noble.

Derek mentally noted everyone.

“Just wait; I’ll make sure you all end up closing down your businesses.”

When he returned to the manor, the shortage of iron ore was basically resolved.

Then came training—grueling training.

Next time, he would never allow anyone to treat him like this again.

While the northern province was buzzing, a group of barbarians from the far north officially entered the buffer zone.

These barbarians were taller than the Northerners, with rougher features and skin that was closer to brown, sporting pale green eyes.

But contrary to expectations, although their weapons were very rudimentary, at least each had one, and some even wore armor and rode tall horses, exuding a fierce aura.

"Foolish Lockmen, do you think we are still the same as thirty years ago?"

The barbarian leader rode forward, looking toward the increasingly closer Northern direction, letting out a cold laugh.