Chapter 845 (1/2)

Chapter 845: Vol V Chapter 205

The late Earl Hauss—whether father or son, the word “late” could be used on either, so there was no need for differentiation. Neither knew that a very small part of their bloodline came from an illustrious hero.

A hero whose life was filled with tragedy.

This hero came from a small and backward country that was located next to a big and powerful country. And on the other side lived the people of a powerful race.

At that time, it was the early stage of the era of the great development of mankind. Under the leadership of the human gods, there was an expansion of territory, and internal strife among humans was quite intense as well. In that era, the aristocratic system was yet to be established. Many territories that later generations would merely have deemed as lands of viscounts or even barons, were proudly self-proclaimed as independent kingdoms—emerged and then died out. There was not a single day that went by without the fires of war. Steel and blood raged the ground.

In that era, it was a sin to be weak. The strong were greedy and fierce like hungry wolves. And then these strong ones would in turn, be devoured by the even stronger ones, who were also like hungry tigers. Even the civilians had to learn some combat techniques. Whenever there were lone knights, the farmers, who looked so honest and dutiful, would instantly transform into ferocious ruffians. They would kill the knights and rob them of all their wealth.

And the country where that hero was from, was absolutely guilty of this “sin.”

Right from the moment he was born, his country had been in turmoil. Even before he came of age, his father, who was the king at that time, was forced to fight a battle that was of no benefit to their country at all. Although the war was won, the king died in the midst of battle. The cause of his death was said to be very suspicious. There was more than an 80% likeliness that the poisoned arrow that dealt the king with a fatal shot came from the battle array of an allied force.

After the king’s death, another king paid them a “friendly” visit, expressing his willingness to marry the king’s widow and merge the two countries peacefully as one.

The young prince seemed to show much indifference on the surface but launched a sudden attack at the dinner banquet hosted for the guests. Not only was the food poisoned, but they were also suddenly attacked by the elite troops. That king who had intended to fish in troubled waters was killed. Even all the knights under his command were wiped out. And the young prince acted so fast that overnight, he had set off and headed to his neighbor’s land. On the third day, he announced his marriage to that king’s daughter and completed the union of the two territories.

As for that king’s son… there was no mention of him in the history books since then. It was as though he had been forgotten.

The few decades that followed were years filled with conspiracies and war. Fresh blood and anguished lamentation were interwoven into these years. For posterity, these few decades might only be a page or more in the historical books, or might only be told in a few epic poems, or even just a few chapters in a certain epic poem, but to the young king, this was his entire lifetime.

He racked his brains and tried all means in order to protect and strengthen his own country. And he did it with all the effort and energy he got. On countless occasions, he had shown such ingenious skills and vicious tactics that the later generations marveled at and learned from. Eventually, by the time he reached old age, his country had become very powerful. Initially, it was merely an equivalent of a baron’s hill. Now, it had developed to the point where it was better than most marquises’ lands.

However, right at this point in time, fate played a little joke on him. A war broke out between several powerful legendary monsters in the capital of his country. The once prosperous capital was reduced to ruins in a few short hours. The king, who attempted to negotiate with the monsters, was like a wild dog that had died by the roadside. And the dead bodies of his loyal knights were strewn all over the ground in a pile of mess.

As the news spread, this country simply collapsed. And there was no further development ensuing its fall.

If this happened on Earth, the story would almost be approaching its ending. However, in a world where there were gods and devils, souls and the netherworld, this story would still have a little sequel to it.

The dead king became the Holy Spirit of the God of Royalty. And later, when the God of Aristocracy replaced the God of Royalty, he became the Holy Spirit of the God of Aristocracy.

The sequel to the story ended here. As for how the later generations carried out studies on this king’s lifetime, how the great aristocrats of the later generations used his deeds to educate their children, or how the ambitious careerists of later generations used his reputation and descendants to incite and create trouble, all these no longer carried much significance.