“Your Excellency!”
Vyswood saw who had arrived, and at last, her hand, tightly gripping her sword hilt, relaxed.
Her chest heaved as she caught her breath. Pointing at Feya, she shouted angrily,
“These mercenaries caused trouble in the camp and injured the officers and soldiers!”
“In fact, it was quite the opposite—”
Feya spoke calmly, the tip of her sword tracing a barely visible arc through the air before pointing at the Imperial officers and soldiers.
“They were the ones who bullied others by abusing their authority.”
As both sides presented their own version of the events, Wes, who had been silent all along, finally found his chance to speak.
He stepped out from behind Feya and offered a standard military salute to the newly arrived officer draped in a heavy cloak:
“Lord Kronka, please allow me to explain the situation.”
Kronka’s gaze shifted from Feya’s unnaturally calm face to Wes. He nodded steadily, signaling him to continue.
Without arrogance or servility, Wes recounted the entire incident in detail.
He explained how the sergeant deliberately made things difficult for the refugees when distributing relief meals, how the officer rashly drew his sword on the spot, and how, when explanations proved useless, they were forced to defend themselves.
He had barely finished when Vyswood immediately shouted:
“Your Excellency, you can’t just listen to the mercenaries’ side of the story! They’re the cunning swindlers among the commoners, always using tongues slipperier than snails to win sympathy! They act all meek and harmless on the outside, but inside they’re filled with poison!”
Wes didn’t argue with her further. He simply spread his hands and sighed to Kronka:
“If Your Excellency wishes to learn the details, you may question those involved directly.”
As he spoke, his gaze passed over Vyswood, falling on the group of Imperial officers and soldiers behind her.
Though no one spoke up, the sergeant’s eyes darted away, unable to meet Kronka’s gaze.
The nearby soldiers also looked guilty, lowering their heads even further.
The truth of the matter was already evident.
Yet Vyswood still refused to accept it, her neck stiff with indignation.
“Don’t think you can justify yourselves with just words!”
She suddenly turned her head and pointed at the sergeant.
“You! Step out and testify!”
The sergeant was so startled he shuddered all over, his knees trembling uncontrollably.
He pointed at his own nose, lips quivering.
“I… I…”
His voice was so shaky it was barely understandable. Glancing from the angry female knight to Kronka’s stern, iron-clad expression, his face turned as white as freshly cut paraffin.
At that moment, a childish voice sounded from behind the crowd.
“Um… please, may I explain…”
Everyone turned their eyes toward the tent in the back.
It was the little girl who had earlier tried to ask the soldiers for a relief meal, only to be rudely refused.
Standing beside her was Loltissa, who had come to accompany her.
The golden-haired girl swept her cold, beautiful eyes over everyone present. She said nothing, but her gaze alone gave the little girl’s words a heavy weight.
Kronka did not show any hint of condescension; in fact, he softened his tone as he addressed the girl:
“What is your name?”
The little girl answered timidly:
“Vannie.”
“Well then, Vannie, tell uncle exactly what happened.”
Vannie glanced at Loltissa by her side, then at Wes and Feya in front, gathered her courage and spoke loudly:
“Just like the mercenary big brother said… those soldiers were the bad guys, and the older brothers and sisters were the good guys.”
“Oh, is that so.”
Kronka’s tone was kindly, as if coaxing a child.
But when he turned his gaze back to the Imperial soldiers, his eyes were so cold that it was as if they saw the execution scaffold in the dead of winter.
The sergeant could not take it anymore. His knees buckled, and he knelt down, begging for mercy:
“Your Excellency, please spare me! I won’t dare do it again!”
The officer beside him realized things were going badly and reacted instantly, kicking his subordinate in the back.
“You scoundrel! How dare you fabricate the truth and deceive your superior! Damn you!”
He cursed loudly, shouting, “My boots will be sure to greet your backside with a vengeance!” as though he were the real victim.
But that was obviously not the point.
Almost at once, the officer turned to Kronka, putting on a fawning, guilty expression:
“Lord Kronka, it was my lack of discipline that caused trouble for you!”
Kronka gave him a look of utter contempt.
Though both were fellow officers of the Imperial Army, and he had high prestige, as a knight commander he had no direct authority to punish officers of equal rank.
He said blandly:
“The people you need to apologize to are not me.”
The officer immediately understood. He hurried over and bowed to Feya and Wes, who had just crossed swords with his men.
“My apologies for my presumptuousness. I beg your forgiveness.”
Feya snorted coldly, making no comment, and returned her sword to its scabbard.
Wes put on a polite smile.
Now that they were in the right and the trouble was over, and since this was someone else’s military camp, it was best to let things go at the right moment.
Besides, out of respect for Lord Kronka, he decided to give some face and waved it off:
“No big deal. A misunderstanding cleared up is nothing to fuss about. Personally, I have no complaints.”
As for Vyswood, after hearing the little girl’s testimony, her earlier righteous indignation faded away.
It was replaced by shock and confusion, which finally turned into deep shame and irritation.
Her eyes became like two icy blades, stabbing fiercely at the officer who was still putting on an act and the sergeant kneeling for mercy.
Still, she turned around, faced Wes and Feya, sheathed her sword, and gave a crisp, formal knight’s bow.
“I’m truly sorry.”
Her voice was still clear, but it no longer had the earlier sharpness or arrogance—only sincerity remained.
“I acted on prejudice and attacked you without investigating the truth. I apologize for my rashness.”
She straightened up and met Feya’s gaze without flinching.
“You are indeed different from ordinary mercenaries—your skill is impressive.”
This straightforward apology left Wes a bit stunned.
He looked at the female knight who had just been shouting for a fight and was a little surprised.
This Vyswood woman, though stubborn and impulsive, was at least straightforward and had the courage to admit her faults.
Kronka came over and once more offered words of comfort to Vannie, promising to report the matter to the higher-ups and ensure fair and steady distribution of relief meals in the refugee camp.
Then, he took a few heavy silver coins from his own pouch and handed them to Vannie.
Seeing her take them in delighted surprise, Kronka finally turned to Wes and asked:
“Are you satisfied with this resolution, my lord?”
The conflict was resolved, there were follow-up measures, and compensation was given to the victim—there was nothing more to ask for.
“Your Excellency handles matters impartially and uprightly. I have much to learn from you.”
Kronka shook his head.
“Such incidents are unfortunately not rare. On the other hand, it’s rare to find courageous souls like yourselves who stand up for the weak and uphold fairness.
Well then, please get some rest. I have other military duties and cannot stay… Actually, let’s do this—Vyswood.”
“Yes, sir!”
Responding at once, the female knight caught Kronka’s eye as he turned to Wes, his expression much gentler.
“Mr. Wes, consider this a form of atonement: I’ll have Vyswood stay here as your overseer, to prevent such incidents from happening again.”
The female knight let out an “Ah?!” and widened her eyes.
But she had no chance to protest.
“If you need anything, just talk to her.”
With that, Kronka made no further comment and simply turned to leave.
Yet as he departed, his steady yet keen gaze lingered a moment longer on the golden-haired girl standing behind Wes.