Chapter 127: Bamund

"Uncle, it has been a long time."

His third uncle still looked as youthful and approachable as ever, dressed in a simple black uniform with a sword belted at his waist. Following behind him were two inscrutable female swordsmen, both wearing cat masks. As far as he knew, these two were his uncle’s concubines, though he was never certain if that was true.

"Seven or eight years, my dear nephew."

Bamund stepped forward to embrace Vaelin, patting his shoulder with a smile. "You've grown quite a bit. You look more like your father every day."

Vaelin unabashedly shattered his uncle’s well-intentioned lie: "That’s not what my father says. You think I don't know? He often says that the third brother is the one who looks most like him."

"You brat, tearing down your uncle's facade—is your backside itching for a beating again?" Bamund clenched his fist, looking at Vaelin with a kindly expression.

"No, no, Uncle! Save your iron fist for my cousin. I’m grown up now, let’s just let that be," Vaelin said, grabbing Bamund’s hands and pleading repeatedly. "Uncle, come, let’s head into the tent."

Seeing this, Bamund lowered his right hand and followed Vaelin inside. As for the two female swordsmen, they remained at the entrance of the tent, assuming the role of temporary guards.

"Greetings, Lord Bamund," Flora said, rising to offer a bow as the two entered.

Vaelin turned to Bamund to explain, "Uncle, this is Aunt Flora, from..."

"Flora, it’s been a long time. You’ve grown so much in the blink of an eye," Bamund said warmly before Vaelin could finish.

Vaelin was surprised that his uncle and aunt actually knew each other, so he refrained from further introductions. Once Bamund was seated, Vaelin picked up the teapot to pour him a drink.

"Uncle, Lord Medmonchi just visited me earlier and told me quite a lot. I never expected you to be so formidable now."

"It’s not worth mentioning, hardly worth mentioning."

Though he said this on the surface, the smile on Bamund’s face betrayed his true feelings. In front of his younger kin, he did not wear a "mask," and what he revealed was genuine emotion.

"It’s just surprising that you and Medmonchi are acquainted; it really caught me off guard," Bamund remarked while sipping his tea.

"It’s all thanks to Aunt that I was able to meet Lord Medmonchi. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been so easy. I might still be a pioneer knight right now; how could I have become a baron?"

"Not bad at all! Vaelin, you’ve really made something of yourself. I hadn't even noticed that my own nephew had become a baron," Bamund praised with a laugh. Even Flora, who was standing to the side, looked at him in total shock. She knew that the rules had changed this year and the difficulty had increased several times over; she hadn't expected Vaelin to become a baron ahead of schedule.

"I still remember when you were a child, you spent every day lazing about, saying that when you grew up, you wanted to stay in Windsor Castle and never leave. How did you suddenly change your mind?"

"People have ambitions. Can’t a salted fish flip itself over?"

"Even if a salted fish flips over, it’s still a salted fish," Bamund joked.

"Pfft." Flora couldn't help it and burst into laughter.

Vaelin looked at his uncle with dissatisfaction. His eyes rolled, and he suddenly said, "I heard from Grandfather that you, Uncle..."

"Look at this—a fist the size of a sandbag."

"Alright, fine." Seeing Bamund’s iron fist, Vaelin decided that discretion was the better part of valor. Who would have thought that behind his refined and elegant exterior lay a brute who loved solving problems with his fists? For the sake of his own backside, he decided not to tangle with this roughneck.

"Is there anything you need my help with?" Bamund asked, getting down to business with a serious expression.

"Not for the moment. Aside from guarding against any tricks the Harks family might pull, there doesn't seem to be anything else. Aunt can help me resolve most things," Vaelin replied thoughtfully and earnestly.

Hearing this, Bamund pulled a small magical device from his pocket and tossed it to Vaelin. "This is a magical defensive apparatus, newly developed by a mage friend of mine. It can generate a magical shield capable of resisting gold-tier attacks. It’s of no use to me, so I’ll give it to you. Wear it on your person, and it will automatically activate if it detects an attack."

"Many thanks, Uncle." Vaelin looked at the device in his hand and, adopting the mindset that it would be foolish to refuse, quickly tucked it into his pocket.

"Is there anything else? I have official duties to attend to."

"Yes," Vaelin said immediately. "I’d like to pick a time for you to meet our clansmen in the Selop Corps."

"Very well. You arrange it; let's set it for January 10th. I have nothing scheduled for that day."

"Understood, Uncle. Take care."

After Vaelin rose to see Bamund off, he returned to the tent.

Vaelin sat back down on the stool, drained his tea in one gulp, and said to Flora, "Aunt, I will contact the cousins, but the uncle—I’ll leave him to you."

"Very well, I will make sure to contact him."

Subsequently, Vaelin took the magical defensive device out of his pocket and placed it into Flora's hand. "Aunt, this is of no use to me. You should keep it for self-defense."

"This is something your uncle gave you. Why give it to me?" Flora said, trying to decline.

"After the battle at Deer Gate South Mountain, you likely know my true trump cards. Keeping this kind of thing is a waste on me."

Vaelin appealed to her with both emotion and reason, eventually convincing the hesitant Flora to accept the defensive device.

"Vaelin, thank you."

"Aunt, we are family. You’ve helped me so much; what is a small thing like this?"

"Very well. If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back."

"Take care, Aunt."

After seeing Flora off, Vaelin returned to the tent and lay down on the freshly made bed.

...

The next morning, Vaelin took Kyle for a stroll around the camp. Except for several restricted areas, most of the camp was open for personnel to move about. Inside the military camp, many nobles were busy contacting acquaintances and discussing important matters to strengthen their ties. If not for the soldiers patrolling from time to time, Vaelin might have mistaken the place for a city district.

After turning several corners and making various inquiries, Vaelin spent over an hour finding the encampment of the Sixth Legion of the Selop Corps. It was a legion formed by the noble armies of the Cadro Province, consisting of less than thirty thousand men, with troops provided by seventeen different noble houses.

"Excuse me, Sir, could you tell me where Baron Alcott’s quarters are?" Vaelin stopped a nobleman and asked politely.

The young noble had been somewhat annoyed, but upon hearing the name Alcott, his face immediately broke into a smile, and he enthusiastically replied, "Baron Alcott’s quarters are to the northeast. If you go from here and pass the quarters of two other barons, you will reach it."

"Many thanks."

After thanking him, Vaelin led Kyle toward the northeast.