In the underground palace of King's City of Graycastle.
Timothy sat on the throne with his right hand supporting his cheek. He looked impatiently at the candidates who were performing their assassination skills in the hall.
"How many idiots have there been since the beginning of winter?"
"I'm probably too lenient, so these clowns are coming at me one after another."
He yawned and felt his eyes go dry.
Since the Hall of the Sky Dome was destroyed by the snow powder, he had moved the court to the underground palace. After some remodeling, several storage rooms were connected, and the space was large enough to accommodate the ministers and nobles attending the meeting. Most importantly, this place was absolutely safe. There was only one entrance and exit, and above it was the magnificent palace. No amount of snow powder could affect this place. The only downside was that there was no light underground, and all the light was provided by rosin torches. The torches around the walls made the air in the room extremely dry and stuffy, and the sweet smell of rosin made him sleepy.
Timothy gnashed his teeth at the thought of his fourth brother. If not for the witnesses who noticed that the attack came from the sky, he would probably still be building watchtowers. Since he knew that this method could not be defended, he could only hold the meeting here for the time being.
"Roland Wimbledon will pay for this!"
"Your Majesty," the voice of the candidate pulled his thoughts back to the hall. "Look, as long as the rebel king Roland dares to appear before me, I can complete the mission you entrusted to me!"
Timothy glanced in front of the candidate and saw four throwing knives accurately inserted into a wooden barrel 20 steps away from him.
"This is your so-called assassination skill?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," he said confidently. "To tell you the truth, I used to do this, and I've killed more than ten rats. If I attack in the crowd, most of the targets won't even know where the throwing knives came from. "
"What's the reward?" Timothy asked as he moved his somewhat stiff body.
"Just 25 Golden Dragon," the candidate said while counting on his fingers. "Five for travel expenses and for dressing up. It's easier to get close to the rebel king if you dress up inconspicuously."
"Sir Weimar," the king gestured.
"Yes, Your Majesty." Steelheart Knight unsheathed his sword, removed his shield from his back, and walked into the hall.
"What, what do you mean?" He was startled.
"Defeat my Knight and I will give you the reward." Timothy winked at Sir.
The latter nodded, pulled down his armor, and walked towards him.
"Wait, wait... No, Your Majesty, this won't do." The candidate rolled over awkwardly to avoid the Knight's slash and stammered, "I can't face it head-on!"
The Knight followed up with a vicious kick to his abdomen, causing him to swallow the rest of his words.
After rolling twice on the ground, the responder weakly threw out a throwing knife, but it was easily blocked by the shield. Then, Sir stepped on his hand and swung his sword down. Half of his arm was immediately separated from his body, and the blood that splashed out formed an arc on the ground.
"My hand..." The responder screamed and curled up into a ball, hugging his arm.
"First, the royal family is not a mouse. Even my stupid brother won't easily get close to a crowd. Second, if you can't even deal with a Knight, how are you going to assassinate the Lord who has multiple Knight guards? I'm afraid that once you get 25 Golden Dragons, you will never come back here again. "Timothy waved his hand." Throw him out. "
If it had been a month or two ago, he would not have treated this group of ignorant and greedy people this way. At most, he would have driven them out of King's City and ordered them not to come back until they got Roland's head. He had given a certain amount of financial support to those who had a slight chance of success, but so far, Roland was still alive and well.
It was probably because of this benevolent attitude that more and more people came to him claiming that they could solve the rebellion, and their methods were getting more and more ridiculous. There was even a guy who used a maid in a tavern as an assassin, claiming that the maid was so skilled that no man could refuse her service. Simply ridiculous! Don't they know the difference between ordinary women and witches? The notice had repeatedly publicized his fourth brother's depravity. How could the Lord, who could raise witches, take a fancy to such inferior goods?
Timothy heaved a long sigh of relief. Teaching these arrogant applicants a lesson should also make the others restrain themselves a little.
Perhaps recruiting people to put down the rebellion itself was a mistake.
The only things that could defeat Roland were pills and snow powder.
He glanced around the hall, and after seeing that there were no outsiders, he asked the Prime Minister, "How is the progress of the snow powder weapon development?"
According to the information collected from Longsong Stronghold, the reason why the miners of Border Town were able to defeat the Duke's Knight regiment and the frenzied militia was because they used a strange snow powder weapon. It should be a semi-closed iron tube that used the impact of the explosion of the snow powder to propel a lead ball to attack the target, similar to a crossbow arrow. Timothy was very concerned about this, and immediately summoned the experienced blacksmiths in King's City to start copying this new weapon.
"It's not ideal, Your Majesty," Marquis Wyke shook his head, "According to the information, the blacksmiths have tried to make a dozen of such weapons, but the power is far less powerful than the rumors. Only a few of them can penetrate the Knight's breastplate within ten steps, and it's difficult to hit the target beyond fifty steps. "
"Ten steps?" Timothy frowned, "Isn't that the same as sticking to the Knight's face? With this, can they still stop the charge of the Knight regiment? "
"Indeed, there may be some tricks that we haven't mastered... In addition, even if we gather all the blacksmiths and apprentices in the city, we can only produce twenty iron tubes a month at most, and we may not be able to guarantee that all of them can be used." The Marquis sighed, "So far, four iron tubes have exploded during training, and the guards are also somewhat reluctant to practice this snow powder weapon."
"Damn it, Border Town is many times more barren than King's City, but Roland has managed to gather hundreds of iron tubes in one winter. He must have gotten help from the demons."
Timothy changed the subject angrily, "What about the pills? Hasn't the church given an answer yet? "
"Yes, Your Majesty," the Marquis replied, "the High Priest said that the Holy City is fighting against the invasion of demonic beasts, and temporarily has no energy to provide more berserk drugs. He hopes that we can wait patiently until the end of the Months of Demons before discussing further."
"I don't want to see the traitors still safely staying in the castle in the Western Region, not even for one more day!"
"It seems that I have to write a letter to the Holy City of Hermes," Timothy thought bitterly. "If I want to recruit more believers in Graycastle in the future, I'll have to give you pills in exchange."
When he was about to announce the end of today's court meeting, the Foreign Minister, Sir Brint, suddenly stepped forward and said, "Your Majesty, the envoy from the Kingdom of Dawn has arrived in King's City today, and he hopes to receive you."
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