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The early morning of late autumn already held a chill of winter.

However, as the sun gradually rose, the frost on the grass and trees melted into round dewdrops, on the brink of falling.

Suddenly, a slight tremor ran through the earth, and all the blades of grass began to sway. The translucent dewdrops fell one by one.

The trembling of the earth intensifying, until in the end, even the blades of grass were completely broken, helplessly drifting down, following the footsteps of the dewdrops to merge into the embrace of the earth.

Thump, thump, thump…

It was as if rolling thunder had ripped open the earth, or monstrous floods were surging forth. The brittle wild grass and cracked gravel danced on the convulsing earth.

Scarface, preparing to chop wood in the mountains, dumbly stood at the entrance to the village, scared and completely at a loss.

“Run! Run!”

Fortunately, the villagers’ screams woke Scarface, who quickly turned around and ran towards home.

“Scarface! Quick, come back!”

Seeing his grandfather standing at the door waving at him, Scarface instantly accelerated for a sprint.

The young body erupted with surprising speed, darting into the house like a cheetah.

The old man hurriedly closed the door and turned to instruct his grandson:

“If someone comes in later, don’t fight, understand?”

Scarface, still panting, just blankly nodded in response.

The commotion outside had grown louder, and the trembling of the ground stronger.

Driven by curiosity, Scarface opened a slight crack in the window and peered out.

Then, he saw countless shadows appear on the horizon, filling the entire land with no gap left.

The whole world seemed to change, even the newly risen sun appeared to be covered by that enormous flag.

“Cavalry!”

Scarface exclaimed.

Indeed, it was cavalry outside.

Dense cavalry, coming in like an unstoppable flood.

“Yes, cavalry, and it’s the cavalry of the North Territory!” said the old man, his face grim.

Scratching his head, Scarface, with a simple and honest face full of confusion, asked, “Grandpa, why would the cavalry of the North Territory appear here?”

“Didn’t a few deserters come back from Alfalfa City to the village yesterday? They said that Count Angler of the North Territory had led the Blood Knight Army across the river. I didn’t believe it at first, but now it seems that the news must be true.”

“What about our Pegasus Navy in the East Territory? How will they let the Northerners cross the river?”

“Seems like a rebellion occurred within the Pegasus Navy, which gave the North Territory an opportunity.”

“So what should we do now?”

The old man sighed, creases all over his face squeezed together, saying helplessly: “What can we do? Resign ourselves to fate! We can only hope that the Northerners consider us fellow citizens of the Empire, and don’t go too far.”

Seeing the indignation on his grandson’s face, the old man once again cautioned: “Remember, if someone bursts in later, let them take whatever they want, don’t resist, understand?”

“Understood,” mumbled Scarface.

The sound of horse hooves outside drew nearer and nearer. Resting his head on the window sill, looking through the opened crack, Scarface could clearly see the towering horses charging into the village and the armored soldiers on their backs.

In Scarface’s eyes, along with terror, there was also an uncontrollable hint of envy.

Due to his towering stature and robust physique, Scarface was believed by the villagers to be a natural born warrior. He long harbored the dream of joining the army. But sadly, his grandfather persistently objected to him joining the military.

Because Scarface’s own father — the villagers’ pride and joy and a member of the prestigious Pegasus Army — had perished under the walls of Silver Moon City during Marquis Vincent’s expedition against the Half-Elf Kingdom the previous year.

Make no mistake, Scarface’s father was a figure of legend in this village. A Tier-three warrior, a member of the St. Prowse Family’s armada. In such a small village, he was the equivalent of a rare talent.

Even so, he fell like any other.

The harsh reality of war left the old grandfather traumatized, fearful of risking his grandson’s life on the battlefield.

Boom!

The wooden door was violently kicked open as two ominous soldiers stormed in.

Scarface promptly shielded his grandfather, eyeing the soldiers warily.

“Where is the food stored?”

Scarface clenched his fists, but he felt his clothes being tightly gripped by his grandfather from behind. Thus, he suppressed his brewing anger and pointed towards a corner of the room.

The soldiers walked over, searching through an old wooden box for what they wanted, and without causing further hassle for the grandfather and grandson, they promptly left.

Once they left, Scarface rushed over and rummaged through the wooden box. An expression of surprise appeared on his gloomy face.

“Grandfather, they actually left half of it for us!”

“Ah, looks like the Northerners still have some conscience. If we ration the remainder, it should be enough to get us through the winter…”

Before he could finish his sentence, another figure appeared at the door.

Red armor shrouded his entire body, leaving only a pair of expressionless eyes visible.

“You have already come once! What’s left is for my grandfather and me…” Scarface began anxiously.

“Scarface!” The grandfather, alarmed, incessantly signaled his grandson, fearing him liable to some rash action.

Scarface had no choice but to keep his mouth shut. He continued to block the path to the wooden box but did not attempt to move.

But the armored man in the doorway showed no intention of coming in. He just stood there, seemingly lost in his thoughts, gazing at the grandfather and grandson for a long while.

Scarface stared back at the armored man, his wary eyes gradually softening into confusion — why did this man’s gaze seem so familiar?

The grandfather also realized something was off and cautiously asked, “Sir, is there something we can help you with?”

The armored man suddenly woke from his stupor, dropped a bag of food without saying a word, and swiftly turned to leave.

Leaving the grandfather and grandson staring at each other.

At the entrance to the village, Colin stood on horseback, deep in thought as he watched the Blood Slave who had just exited Scarface’s house.

This Blood Slave had once been a Tier-three soldier in the Pegasus Army. Colin didn’t know the man’s name or history; he only knew he must have hailed from this village.

His unusual behavior a while ago would have made sense if he had encountered a relative.

Colin had always assumed that Blood Slaves were completely devoid of self-consciousness, but now he was not so sure.

Of course, this residual consciousness wasn’t very strong and wouldn’t interfere with Colin’s control over them.

For instance, right now, at Colin’s command, the Blood Slave went back into Scarface’s house and took back the food he had just left.

This made Colin think —

If even a Blood Slave could feel compassion for relatives from a past life, what about a Bloodline who already has a clear sense of self?

When he was in Swan City earlier, Colin forced Bloodline Count Schultz to betray her husband Lucien just to test whether a Bloodline would violate his command if their interests clashed.

Although the experiment was successful, Colin felt that Count Schultz might have understood that she was no match for him since the Blood Knight Army was stationed just outside the city, and decided to sell out her husband instead.

So, what would happen if a Bloodline found a way to oppose Colin, or even had the chance to escape his control? Would they continue to act against their own interests and obey Colin’s command?

As he pondered, Colin suddenly thought that Marquis Vincent, the Bloodline accompanying him on the eastern expedition, might provide him with a definitive answer…