Chapter 281: Mental Trauma (1/2)

Monan found himself in Lancaster when he woke up.

He felt a bitter taste in his mouth when he was informed about old Basil being received by the mayor and moved to the guest room of mayor’s residence.

In every manner speaking, he had failed in his duty as a knightly escort.

Still, the other escorts of the diplomatic corps also had terrible looks on their faces.

Aside from Basil being assertively ushered away by the Lancaster mayor’s forces while they were unconscious, it appeared that they were more surprised by the outcome of their confrontation.

It was hard to believe, but a single person had wiped the floor with them, a full detachment of imperial military elites!

Moreover, not a single one of them had been killed, making it even less of a fight. Indeed, the Flatfish Swordsman wasn’t giving an inch – he was giving a mile!

“So? What happened to that man?”

Monan asked another knight who had recovered before he did. But for some reason, the knight was wearing a small rag shirt that was too small for him and didn’t even have a single piece of equipment.

That certainly left Monan a little upset: it was a creed of imperial military elites that they never went unarmed.

“Who? Lord Basil… or that fish-head man?” The knight did a double-take when questioned, unable to react immediately.

“What do you mean, fish-head man? It’s just a head mask.” Monan corrected. “I heard that that there were wildlings from certain wastelands who would put on the heads of beast to frighten their enemies, and only the strongest warriors were granted the honor to do that. It symbolizes their rank!”

Being a man of war who admires might, Monan wouldn’t have been that respectful if they group had won the ‘spar’.

Be that as it may, the pink flatfish (Mufasa) had turned their whole procession upside down alone, displaying admirable power. As such, they need to show respect, both out of a warrior’s obligation and to cover for their shortcomings.

If such a champion was called a fish-head man, what should those who were soundly beaten by him be called? Small fry or plankton? “Would most champions pick a pink fish head to symbolize their rank, though?” The knight asked hesitantly.

“The champions in the imperial capital has their unbelievable eccentricities. It’s probably just the world view of the strong.” Monan sighed, before returning to his initial question.

“So, about that…”

At that point, Monan suddenly realized that he didn’t know the name of or how he should address the pink flatfish who came to receive them either, and after half a beat, he was forced to make up a name for him. “So, what happened to his fish-head excellency?”

“So we’re sticking to fish-head…”

The knight rolled his eyes before becoming serious and went down to business. “You’re right, captain, the Lancaster city watch is poor, lazy and unmotivated. Their tight patrols are actually full of openings-in fact, I’ve just slipped out to get some information.”

“So? What happened?” Monan quickly pressed.

“His fish-head excellency… is dead.”

“Dead…” Monan felt his spirit left his body.