The Mighty Dragons Are Dead

But, as Liszt’s opponent, Charles found this difficult to accept; he was over forty years old and had been unable to defeat a youth of seventeen.

It was an outcome he never expected before the live combat training.

The most crucial point was the utter lack of resistance—being dominated from beginning to end, a situation quite embarrassing.

Yet the longsword, emitting a scorching heat, was already at his neck, and Charles had to admit that he truly was defeated, beaten by a young person.

This should have been a matter of shame and anger.

Taking into account Liszt’s identity, he quickly came to terms with it. Heir to the Tulip Family and inheritor of the Long Taro Family’s bloodline, such a high-born noble should naturally possess such strength.

In the end, he could only sigh and say sincerely, “I… have lost.”

“There are more than one Elite Earth Knights defeated by my hand; you need not be too concerned. Amongst the Elite Earth Knights, your strength is not bad, and the paralyzing effect of your Thunder Attribute Dou Qi is quite threatening,” Liszt said indifferently. In reality, he’d only had friendly spars with Marcus and Paris.

It wasn’t really about who won or lost; they weren’t fighting to the death.

But at the Earth Knight level, sword duels were rare, with group charges being the main strategy. Liszt did not plan to enter the battlefield for duels anytime soon; he focused more on archery. Learning the “Multi-Arrow” technique from Marcus, he had already surpassed the teacher.

If it were a battlefield showdown, he’d definitely rely on shooting arrows from the outskirts.

“Baron, your strength is formidable. Charles is both convinced and in awe. The bloodline of the Tulip Family is one of the noblest I’ve seen,” said Charles as he got up, his words half flattery and half heartfelt, “The only thing separating the Tulip Family from a Marquis Family is time.”

Liszt tossed his fine steel longsword to the servant and took a handkerchief to wipe his hands, “One should attain a peerage sooner rather than later; time is the enemy of us all.”

Charles felt this deeply: “Yes, feeling as enemy to time is indeed terrifying.”

As an Elite Earth Knight like him, with no hope of breakthrough and no money to spend on drugs, he feared his physical capabilities would start to decline in a few years.

That was why he was eager to look for opportunities: “Baron, if you need support on your glorious road to peerage, Charles is willing to charge forward on your behalf!”

He was prepared to follow.

However, Liszt considered, “I am but a Baron, the second son of an Earl. The members of my Knight Squad are knights struggling against their fate, just like me. They have no choice but to fight for glory. What about you? You have so many options, why come to Fresh Flower Town?”

Of course, because Fresh Flower Town offered opportunities.

But Charles knew that such an answer was not what Liszt wanted. Just as knights choose a landlord to follow, landlords also choose suitable followers.

He needed to prove to Liszt that he was a worthy follower.

But how to prove it, he didn’t quite understand at the moment, “Baron…”

“Do not be hasty, Sir Charles. Time is indeed our enemy, but it can also help us to clearly recognize what we want. You can go back first, take some time to think about what you want and what you can achieve. Then we can talk about following,” suggested Liszt.

In the end.

Charles still left Fresh Flower Town with regret and confusion, as well as a glimmer of hope.

…

Under the apple tree.

The new conversation partner had turned to Zambrotta, “Sir, you refused to accept Charles’s followership?”

“No, but I didn’t accept it either. I told him to go back, understand himself, and then come back,” Liszt said while sipping his milk tea, “That was just an excuse to send him away. In fact, I haven’t decided whether or not to accept his followership. As you’ve said, his identity is an obstacle.”

To take an Elite Earth Knight as a follower would actually be quite good.

But there was the fear that the other party might be a noble with a fake identity, and if one day they were exposed by fraudsters, it wouldn’t just be Charles who would lose face, but Liszt more so—the pitiable Noble Landlord deceived by a scammer.

Zambrotta nodded, somewhat emotionally, “The very noble title he values most is what’s hindering his path to knightly glory.”

“Perhaps one day he’ll figure it out and abandon his title for the sake of striving for glory,” Liszt chuckled, thinking it unlikely, and changed the subject, “Where did we leave off last time? Was it the Duke of the Rose Duchy’s Count Dracula, who was mistaken for a vampire?”

“Yes, he secluded himself in Blood Castle and never partook in social gatherings among the nobles. He was once the most glorious Sky Knight of the Rose Duchy, even the granddaughter of the Duke of Rose was smitten with him.”

Talking politics wasn’t Zambrotta’s strong suit, but in storytelling, he was always able to narrate engagingly, “As the Earless succumbed to a deep slumber, Count Dracula also became dark and eccentric. Hence, people said he had made a pact with the devil, turning himself into a vampire, hoping to revive the Earless.”

“I guess that Earless must have been remarkably beautiful,” Liszt guessed.

“When I passed Blood Castle, I lingered for a long while, yet rarely heard others discuss the Countess’s appearance, and even the identity of the Earless was elusive… quite regrettable,” said Zambrotta.

Vampire and werewolf tales were widespread.

However, a living Earl being mistaken for a vampire was quite amusing. This provided Liszt with a lot of inspiration, and he felt the urge to write the historical epic “Dragons Fight in the Wild”—perhaps he could invent an ancient great war between humans and vampires.

The vampires retreated, blending into humanity.

Perhaps even amongst us.

…

Unfortunately.

The writing plan for “Dragons Fight in the Wild” was delayed once again.

He barely managed to settle the matters with the carpentry workshop and the brick factory and hadn’t had a few days of leisure when he received notice from the Tulip Castle’s Knight that the young heir of the Golden Wheat Sheaf Family had visited Long Taro Castle. Levis accompanied the return and informed Liszt to attend to the guest.

As fellow noble heirs, they naturally had to socialize with each other.

Liszt had no choice but to arrange affairs in Fresh Flower Town and spent a few hours playing by the sea with the Sea Sprite Ake. He then led his standard mount—a Blizzard Beast Dousen—accompanied by his Personal Guard, Black Dragon Childe Paris, and set off for Tulip Castle the next morning.

“Sigh, nobles are really keen on socializing, always finding ten thousand reasons to gather and feast… I don’t aspire to live such a life,” he lamented.

Sitting in the carriage adorned with the Black Tulip Banner, Liszt boredly gazed at the landscape outside the window.

Forests, shrubs, wastelands, farmlands, sparsely scattered cottages composing a village—this was an era with significantly backward productivity, full of primordial customs. When the carriage entered Coral City, the bustling crowds almost seemed to pull him back to the dirty and chaotic streets of the medieval ages.

Yet, as they traveled up the hillside blanketed with a sea of tulips towards the grand and majestic Tulip Castle,

What struck him was the light of civilization.

The lives of the nobility and the commoners were two different worlds. Liszt stepped out of the carriage, and seeing the old Butler Louis greet him, he felt immensely fortunate to be a noble.