He had whitewashed the blatant extortion and compensation into a loan between nobles.
This was done not only to preserve the last traces of decency but also to avoid more serious problems that could later tarnish his reputation.
Then he wrote a clause stating that he would repay the debt within ten years, and that in the event of default, His Excellency Karl would have the right to recover the debt using assets registered in my name, excluding the fiefdom.
Ten years was a long time, but for such a huge sum of money, he understood that it was almost the limit; any longer and the other party might be displeased.
After writing all this, he took a deep breath, as if exhausting all his strength, and finally signed his name—Bakari de Fanche.
Then he extended his thumb, pressed it hard into the bright red sealing wax, and stamped it heavily over his name.
A clear fingerprint remained on the parchment, like a brand of shame.
Dalton stepped forward, took the parchment with an expressionless face, examined it, and, ensuring it was correct, turned and respectfully handed it to Karl, who was sitting on his horse.
Karl took the promissory note for six thousand five hundred Orens and quickly scanned it.
When he saw that Bakari had written "compensation" as a "loan," the corners of his mouth under his helmet involuntarily curled.
This man was quite competent, knowing how to leave himself a fig leaf. The ten-year term was within his acceptable limits.
He had originally wanted to teach the other party a lesson he would never forget, and he didn't want to drive him to death immediately.
After all, in this era, only a handful of aristocrats could immediately produce 6,500 Orens in cash.
Ninety-nine percent of nobles couldn't make money as easily as he could.
Unfortunately, Bakari's former cunning had been misapplied; he shouldn't have directed his greedy ideas at him and his people.
Karl carefully folded the promissory note and placed it in the inner pocket of his armor.
Only then did he look again at Bakari, who was restless and nearly collapsing, and said in an even tone: "Very well, Your Excellency Bakari, you may continue on your way to the border."
"I look forward to your heroic performance on the battlefield, winning glory for Temeria."
He paused, as if mentioning it casually, but with a sense of restraint: "Next, I will go to Dornedale and 'chat' with the lord there."
"I imagine we will meet again soon at the border."
Learning that he could finally leave safely, Bakari breathed a heavy sigh of relief; the clothes on his back were already soaked with cold sweat.
He quickly forced a grateful smile, though it was uglier than a cry.
"I feel... thank you for your kindness, Your Excellency Karl. I... I will definitely fight bravely on the border!"
At that moment, Dalton waved his hand again, and the Holy Blood Angel knights surrounding Bakari's five men neatly positioned themselves to the sides, clearing a path to the north.
Seeing this, Bakari dared not linger and hastily greeted the four knights behind him, whose faces were also ashen.
Almost as if fleeing, they rode out of the encirclement and rushed towards the northern border, not looking back, afraid that Karl might change his mind.
Karl and his knights quietly watched these discomfited figures disappear at the end of the road.
"Everyone, target: Dornedale." Karl's voice broke the silence.
Everyone answered in unison, turned their horses, and the dark red current set off again, heading towards the territory of Dornedale, north of Terra.
......
On the other side, Bakari and his company had wildly ridden far away.
Only after completely disappearing from the sight of the pulsing red knights behind them did they dare to slow down.
It seemed as if they had just been pulled out of the water; they were drenched in cold sweat, and their faces bore lingering fear.
The knight who had been carrying the flag was now full of humiliation and resentment.
He brought his horse closer to Bakari, lowered his voice, and said indignantly: "My lord! The Lord of Terra has gone too far; this is outright robbery!"
"Are we going to just forget about it? Should we write to His Majesty the King at the border and ask His Majesty to intervene?"
The panic on Bakari's face gradually faded, replaced by a grim, suppressed anger.
He took a deep breath and shook his head, his voice full of helplessness and a hint of fear: "It's useless. You saw it just now."
"Karl, the Lord of Terra, came this time accompanied by dozens of knights in full plate armor!"
"That's just the force he brought with him... Who knows how many such elites are hidden on his territory in Terra?"
"With such a knightly force, and as the number of ordinary soldiers under his command grows, it's entirely possible for him to become a duchy like Ellander!"
He glanced at his entourage and asked: "Do you think, in the face of such a powerful lord with a strong army, who has just lifted the princess's curse and made great contributions, and is highly valued,"
"His Majesty would decide to help a small baron like us, or to help him?"
The flag-bearing knight opened his mouth, but in the end, couldn't say anything, just sighed helplessly and fell silent.
Bakari's face was extremely grim. He thought that for the next ten years, he would have to cut back on food and clothing and spend most of his income to repay this astronomical "debt."
He felt an uncontrollable heartache that was killing him.
But then, Karl's parting words flashed through his mind: "Next, I am going to Dornedale."
Thinking of the similarly greedy Lord of Dornedale, who was closer to Terra and had probably been even more ruthless in raising prices,
he would soon meet the same, and possibly worse, fate as himself.
The sadness and anger on Bakari's face suddenly dissipated a little, revealing a complex expression mixed with schadenfreude.
"Hmph, just you wait, you idiot from Dornedale. Let's see how much longer you can be so arrogant!"
He muttered quietly, as if meeting another loser could somewhat alleviate the pain in his own heart.
......
The course of events did not turn out as Bakari had expected; it was even more thrilling than he had imagined.
The Holy Blood Angel knights, led by Karl, headed for Dornedale.
They also managed to intercept the Lord of Dornedale and his retinue, who were preparing to answer the summons and head to the border.
However, the Lord of Dornedale was clearly not as well-informed about current events as Bakari.
Perhaps he was overconfident in his own strength, or perhaps he was more arrogant and stubborn.
Faced with Karl's demand for compensation, similar to Bakari's claim,
he not only categorically refused but also spoke arrogantly, trying to intimidate Karl with his aristocratic status and the righteousness of serving the king.
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