Upon receiving the news of his deputy’s death, Security Chief Bofute galloped directly to the scene.
Bofute commanded his subordinates with a grave expression.
It wasn’t just because the dead was his deputy.
More so because Lord Gerard had temporarily left, entrusting him with the entire harbor’s security.
Suddenly, Bofute felt an immense pressure.
Because, this Chief of Security knew very well what he was up against.
The ‘harassment’ of Secret Agents from the New Federation!
It must be the old guards from Lord Hans’ side mentioned in the rumors!
With this speculation in mind, Bofute could not help but let his thoughts run wild.
As a hereditary vassal of the harbor, he knew some secrets about the Hans Family.
That included the mysterious disappearance of the old guards.
A force of over a hundred men, both formidable in battle and bizarre to the extreme.
Their most glorious fight was probably against the counterattack of the old Federation, where the hundred-man team held off two full legions of the old Federation, relentlessly harassing, raiding, and beheading, until the enemy was completely routed.
But in the recent ten years, they vanished without a trace.
Breakfast began at 111 Duron Street.
But compared to the usual lively atmosphere at the dining table,
there was only Dennise sitting at the huge table.
Jason, Gerard, and little Reed were not there.
Nor were Peters and Hume.
Dennise hugged her once favorite meat bone, feeling it had lost its flavor.
That’s why she only ate three people’s portions.
Then, she saw the kind, plump cook auntie who had just cleared the table for her, head into the kitchen, and the next moment, swap her usual long skirt for knight’s attire and leather armor, shouldering a massive Wolf Fang Club, with two flintlock pistols hanging on each side of her waist, and come out.
“I won’t be able to cook for you for a while.”
“I need to head to the front lines.”
The cook auntie carrying the Wolf Fang Club looked at Dennise with full apology.
Dennise was well-loved by the servants of 111 Duron Street.
Because Dennise, wearing a cotton dress, was not only kindhearted, innocent, magnanimous, but also had none of the airs typical of nobility. Aside from occasionally getting lost or unintentionally breaking some furniture, she was the perfect subject of service in a servant’s heart.
Dennise was stunned for a moment.
She was familiar with the word, often seeing it in books.
But to really face it, this was her first time.
She looked around vaguely.
She saw that all the familiar attendants and maidservants had changed out of their usual servant clothes and long skirts. They had put on knight’s attire and leather armor, holding weapons as they stood in front of 111 Duron Street, ready to depart.
“So that’s why Jason and little Reed left.”
“Why Peters and Hume followed.”
“Are they also heading to the front lines?”
Dennise thought blankly.
Seeing Dennise’s dazed look, the plump cook auntie felt a wave of distress.
She preferred to see Dennise carefree.
“Don’t worry, Miss Dennise.”
“Everything will pass.”
“With us here, with Lord Gerard here, everything will be alright.”
“It’s just two full infantry legions, we can flatten one just as we can two!”
The cook auntie thumped her chest, signaling Dennise to be at ease.
Then, the auntie said goodbye to Dennise.
“Miss Dennise, wait for me to return.”
“I will still cook for you.”
After speaking, the auntie waved her hand and shouldered the Wolf Fang Club to join the formation.
Dennise watched the formation depart.
111 Duron Street became even emptier.
The faces of those remaining were filled with panic and unease.
Accustomed to liveliness, Dennise disliked such an atmosphere.
Especially without Jason by her side, Dennise felt even more uncomfortable.
Unable to help herself, Dennise muttered softly—
“I don’t kind of war!”
“Let it end quickly!”
“I want Jason back by my side!”
“I still want to eat the meat bones the plump auntie cooks!”
The wind carried the voice away,