The Lord Demon King is Unfathomable!

Chapter 1662 469: The Holy Daughter's "Last Words

The silver moon hangs high, the night deep and quiet.

The south gate of Twilight City creaked open with the sound of the winch, creating a gap just wide enough for two carriages to pass side by side, as a convoy escorted a luxury carriage out.

Torchlight flickered on the cold city walls, illuminating the tired and confused faces of the guards.

The curfew in Twilight City has not yet been lifted; those who can leave now are either confidants of the Governor or nobles that the Governor cannot control.

Yet no matter who that person is, they do not understand why this important figure chooses now to leave the city.

Although the siege of Twilight City has indeed ended, those defeated rebels and ratmen won't disappear into thin air just because the flags have fallen.

This group that sold their souls to Chaos will transform from organized bandits to unorganized bandits, plaguing the ordinary people of this land once more.

It is the most chaotic time now, akin to how the thawing season is colder than when the snow falls. At least in the Twilight Province, there is no place safer than Twilight City right now...

The joys and sorrows of people do not connect.

To the citizens of Twilight City, the disaster seems over, and naturally, Twilight City is the safest place, but those alert know that everything is just beginning.

Count Thelon Gard sat in his ornately decorated carriage, occasionally lifting the velvet curtain to peer outside.

He has never been so punctual in his life, nor has he ever waited for anyone like this; today is indeed an exception...

At this moment, a hundred light cavalry stood around his carriage. These cavalrymen were tall and strong, well-equipped, with a fierce aura about them.

This is the Gard family's last asset, and Thelon's last confidence.

Thelon waited with patience for a long time, and just as he was about to grow impatient, a capable figure finally strode from the shadows outside the city.

"Count sir, sorry to have kept you waiting." Grega nodded slightly, still humble in demeanor, but there was a hint less reverence than when at the Governor's Mansion.

"Hmm, good to know." Thelon snorted coldly, forcibly maintaining his noble demeanor, "Where are your people? Are they all ready?"

"Of course, please follow me."

Grega gestured "please" and turned to walk into the depths of the night.

The convoy stationed outside the city resumed its journey, the sound of hooves striking the earth echoing clearly across the silent wilderness.

They traveled about three miles when traces of campfires finally appeared on the distant plains, causing Count Thelon's brow to relax slightly.

However, the feeling of relaxation did not last long.

As the group got closer to the camp, Thelon's expression grew increasingly subtle, a hint of suspicion rising in his brows.

These tents...

Aren't they a bit too many?

It's not just the tents.

The smoke rising into the sky doesn't resemble portions for two thousand people; it looks more like a camp for tens of thousands of troops instead.

Thelon's suspicion wasn't due to any high level of military insight, but purely from "experience."

The army that previously besieged Sparrow Wood Castle was roughly this size; perhaps even less than this...

The convoy halted at the camp's edge, and Thelon swallowed hard, sticking his head out of the carriage to quietly ask the mercenary leader leading them.

"Mr. Grega, are you sure... you're a two-thousand-person mercenary group?"

Grega, on horseback, grinned.

"Of course, how could I not know my own brothers?"

Thelon coughed lightly.

"No, what I mean is, might there be a bit too many—"

"Rest assured, Count sir, I can assure you that by no later than the day after tomorrow, you'll be comfortably lying in your castle bedroom."

Before Thelon could finish, Grega interrupted him.

Moreover, the respectful title had subtly shifted to one of equal standing, with a hint of mockery intertwined.

Suddenly, a chilling possibility dawned on Thelon, involuntarily causing his plump body to tense.

His pupils trembled lightly, he coughed again, evading eye contact as he spoke.

"I just remembered, we haven't signed the contract yet; I need to return to the Twilight City residence to retrieve the seal—"

"No need to worry about that," Grega interrupted once more, his smile brilliant yet icy, "Miss Sarah has already fetched it for you."

The color drained completely from Thelon's face.

Sarah?

Who is that person?

He wracked his brain but couldn't recall ever hearing that name, nor could he understand how he might have entangled himself with that person.

But soon, that matter ceased to be important.

Beyond Grega's shoulder, at the entrance of the so-called mercenary camp, he saw a familiar face.

The man carried a battle axe on his shoulder, draped in bearskin, a bandit-like grin welcomingly plastered across his face.

"Praise Saint Sis, Count sir."

"We meet again at last..."

...

Faced with the densely lifted firearms, the hundred house servants were quickly disarmed, split up, and detained in the deepest parts of the camp.

There are far more than two thousand people stationed here; even adding a zero doesn't cover it!

Seeing Thelon's pants wet from fear, Brennan didn't make it difficult for him, merely enthusiastically invited him off the carriage and strolled around the camp with him.

It was nearing autumn, the weather already shifting from hot to cool.