He and John were mortal enemies. Besides, the truce was ending soon—just enough time for Henry to train two batches of soldiers.
Making an example of John was both logical and reasonable. It wouldn't draw too much attention either.
One Count fighting another—what could be more normal?
'The land under the sun is finite. You're a Count, and so am I. There can only be one top dog in any given place!'
'Perfect!'
Henry rode at a gallop, no longer paying any mind to the passing scenery or the local delicacies in the cities he passed.
He was eager to get home, with only one thought on his mind: to return to Westwood Laine Castle, pour in all his Overlord Training points, and forge an invincible iron army—strong in both quality and numbers.
He barely stopped along the way.
The few breaks he took were only to give the horses water and feed, ensuring they had the stamina to press on.
