The Lord Of Blood Hill

After the drawbridge falls, the top Glory Rank professionals, including the church's archbishop and the empire's Expedition Marshal, immediately step forward to ask what happened.

Henwell steps forward. "Archbishop, we were ambushed and suffered heavy losses!"

"If not for Princess Catherine's assistance, even more of our brothers might have died."

"Lord Garcia can testify to that."

"We have already searched the castle. Apart from the prisoners we captured, we found no surviving Veil members."

Tobias, the commander of the empire's knight order, snorts from the side. "We are asking Garcia. Why are you speaking out of turn?"

Henwell does not back down. "I am the overall commander of this operation. That was jointly recognized by the church and the empire."

"As long as I have not been removed from command, I still have to give a briefing on the whole operation. That is my responsibility."

Bekley of the Imperial Bulwark Legion says, "Little fellow, then your responsibility is quite large."

Henwell's expression turns somewhat sorrowful. "Yes. I do bear responsibility. I advanced too rashly."

"I did not carefully review the intelligence. I failed to stay calm and recklessly agreed to headquarters' operation. This is responsibility I cannot shirk."

Expedition Marshal Luke says mildly, "Boy, are you blaming us for issuing the wrong order?"

Henwell shakes his head. "Of course not. This is indeed my responsibility. After all, you lords were not on the front line."

"What you saw was the larger situation. As the front-line commander, I failed to raise my doubts in time and failed to insist on my own judgment. That was my responsibility from the start."

As he speaks, Henwell turns to look at the battered Western Regions elites. "I failed everyone's trust."

"Under the siege of one Glory Rank spellcaster, six Iron Ranks, more than ten Grand Knights, and over a hundred Veil elites,"

"I only managed to bring these brothers out. Everyone else died here. This is responsibility I cannot shirk."

"After this matter is concluded, I will naturally accept punishment and resign as captain of the Paladins."

Tobias sneers. "Heh... what a sharp tongue you have. I hope you could talk down the Veil remnants just as well during the battle."

As a member of the church, Henwell should have been defended by the church now. Yet all of them remain silent.

Garcia cannot stand it anymore. "My lords, this matter cannot be blamed on Henwell. We failed to plan properly!"

"Henwell already did more than enough. If he had not been clever and decisive, our losses would have been even greater."

"During the previous battle, Henwell personally killed three Veil Grand Knights and held back three more by himself."

"He even fought Blacksmith and did not fall into disadvantage for a short time, winning us enough opportunity to withdraw the entire team."

"After the battle, he was also the first to find Princess Catherine, organize the royal guards, and assist us in encircling and capturing the remaining Veil members."

"Moreover, Henwell personally treated our wounded brothers afterward, even before dealing with his own injuries."

"Thanks to his superb trauma-treatment skills, Janet survived. Otherwise, it would have been very hard for him to last until now."

"So none of us believes Henwell is at fault, and none of us believes he should bear any blame."

"Not only we brothers who survived think so. Even the brothers who died in battle would not blame Henwell."

These words receive the unanimous approval of the surviving members of the Western Regions operation team. They all nod in agreement.

With things said to this extent, it will not be easy for the Western Federation's upper ranks to pursue Henwell's responsibility.

In front of so many eyes, pinning the operation's failure on Henwell is clearly not something that will convince the crowd.

Just as Garcia said, Henwell's performance has already been good enough.

If a person like this still has to be punished after fighting through blood and danger, how will the Western Federation conduct affairs in the future?

Would anyone still dare to sincerely work for them?

Archbishop Ashiburn steps forward. "Henwell has rendered merit. We are very clear on that. For now, all of you should rest properly."

"But before that, give us a brief report, especially on the whereabouts of the Veil's powerful members."

Garcia describes what his group encountered, and during the account he does not downplay a single correct decision Henwell made.

After the brief report, everyone is arranged to rest. Henwell hands the gravely wounded and unconscious Leician over to Catherine, then rides Windchaser east.

When Henwell reaches Yinxin City, he immediately goes to the stronghold of the Lord Iron Guards.

As soon as he arrives at the gate, his expression darkens.

The gate and walls of the large courtyard have already been destroyed. Traces of battle are everywhere.

What worries Henwell more is that no sentries, open or hidden, come out to greet him after he arrives.

Henwell then enters the courtyard. Bloodstains are everywhere, and the fighting appears to have been fierce.

But not a single corpse has been left behind. Neither his own people nor the enemies who attacked left any bodies here.

Just as Henwell's heart sinks to the bottom, he discovers a set of secret marks. They are not marks of the Lord Iron Guards, but marks of the Veil.

Or rather, they are an improved form of Veil marks, something Henwell created with his companions back when he was a young gladiator.

Not many people now know these marks. In Yinxin City, the only ones who would know them are White Butterfly Michelle and Flying Ant Ruper.

Henwell does not hesitate. After confirming there are no survivors here, he mounts his horse and races toward the place indicated by the marks.

When Henwell arrives outside the city and sees the enormous yet familiar building, he cannot help frowning.

After stopping at the entrance for a short while, Bloodhorn personally comes out to meet him.

"Your people are already being treated. For a short time, no one will know they are hiding here."

Facing Bloodhorn's explanation, Henwell asks another question. "Why did you not run? The Veil's plan failed. The church's elites have already reached the capital."

Bloodhorn gives a bitter laugh. "Run? Where would I run? I am a minor figure in the Veil. I only provide funds."

"I did not even know what plan the organization had this time. I was not prepared at all!"

As he speaks, Bloodhorn turns back to look at the arena. "Henwell, do you know? I have operated this place for more than twenty years."

"Aside from the times when I had to give money to the Veil, I could almost forget I was one of them."

"Most of the time, I thought I was only a wealthy businessman in gray businesses."

"Whether you believe it or not, I truly have not done many things for the Veil in my life."

"Obviously, this incident has become a huge matter. The important figures can withdraw, and I am only an abandoned pawn."

Henwell stares at Bloodhorn for a while. This man is like the fake Ulysses, someone who has acted his role for too long.

Or rather, they both want to live as themselves, for themselves, and no longer as tools.

Henwell does not continue the subject. "Take me to my people."