Medieval: Kingdom Come: Deliverance

Peter nodded, affirming, "That's right. As for the person who escorted him all the way, if Black Bartosh is ransomed, it will definitely be this bodyguard. If Black Bartosh isn't there, the most capable and trustworthy person in the castle would probably be Captain Thomas."

"Oh, then we won't have any of our own people in the castle? What about your plan to seize the castle, sir? Should we ransom Black Bartosh?" Charlie asked with some concern.

"This is just my speculation, it may not come true. Even if it does, I have a Plan B."

Peter actually had another plan, C, but he was unwilling to use it unless absolutely necessary.

"When you get back, talk to Captain Thomas. Be prepared. This might be a year or two before you return," Peter said earnestly. "This is crucial for the future development of our territory. Are you afraid of this long-term mission?"

"I'm not afraid!" Charlie said firmly. "I'm willing to give anything for you, my lord. God is my witness."

Peter said with satisfaction, "Good. I believe you. To recognize your contribution, I'll give you a little extra reward in advance. Charlie, you don't have a surname yet, do you?"

"Yes, sir, I am of commoner birth, and this is the only name my mother gave me, Charlie."

Handsome Charlie thought of his flamboyant mother who died young and never enjoyed a good life, and said with some sadness.

"Very well, in the name of Peter Griffin, I bestow upon you the surname Quigmail. When I knight you in the future, you will be the Swamp Knight of Ashmarfland."

Peter started making empty promises again.

"Charlie Quigmayer? The Swamp Knight of the Ash Marsh Territory? What a great name! I love the mud of the Delta, Giggity Giggity!" Charlie shook his head excitedly.

"Ding! Charlie Quigmayer's loyalty +5"

..........

After discussing the details and wording further, Charlie excitedly left to see if young Master Yangbolgao had finished his bath.

Peter had just seen the men off when a guard rushed in, saying, "Sir, a fight has broken out at the prisoner-of-war camp!"

When Peter rushed to the prisoner-of-war camp, a fierce battle was raging there.

It turned out that when Henry saw Istevan, anger almost overwhelmed his reason. He jumped over the prisoner-of-war camp fence, rushed in, and punched the unsuspecting Istevan to the ground.

The speed was so fast that neither Young Master Hans nor Master Tomcat could stop them.

Just as Henry angrily drew his sword to strike, a figure darted out from behind István with the speed of a leopard, picked up a thick wooden club, and blocked Henry's path. It was István's adopted son, Eric, who was also a highly skilled swordsman, his strength on par with Henry's.

Eric had once beheaded Henry while on duty at the Italian Palace; Henry had also defeated him in a duel outside Suchdor. The outcome between the two men depended solely on their condition during the fight.

"Get out of here!"

Henry's eyes were bloodshot as he swung his sword mercilessly.

Eric remained silent, his eyes cold and resolute. The wooden stick in his hand seemed alive, precisely blocking Henry's furious sword strike.

With a muffled "clang," wood chips flew everywhere.

Hatred fueled Henry's power, but Eric's skill was in no way inferior. The two fought fiercely in the open space in front of the prisoner-of-war camp. Henry's moves were ruthless, aimed straight for vital points, a desperate, all-out attack; Eric, on the other hand, remained composed, his wooden club wielding a relentless, impenetrable attack, sometimes darting out like a venomous snake, his counterattacks cunning and ruthless. The club clashed with the longsword, producing a teeth-grinding "bang." After more than a dozen rounds, neither had gained the upper hand.

But if this continues, Eric, who is constantly hungry and sleep-deprived, will inevitably lose.

"stop!"

The guards finally reacted, and several spears were immediately aimed at the two combatants, forcibly separating them.

Hans rushed forward and pulled Henry, who was still struggling and breathing heavily.

"Henry! Calm down!" Hans hissed. He understood Henry's hatred, but at this moment they were merely guests of the Griffin Camp. "These prisoners are the 'property' of the Griffin Camp, and it is not proper etiquette for guests to resort to violence."

At this moment, Istvan also got up from the ground, rubbing his cheek. Henry's punch had knocked out two of his teeth and made him faint for a short while. Seeing Eric, who was wearing only a thin shirt and holding a wooden stick in front of him, he pushed Eric aside and faced Henry directly.

"You're still not giving up, are you? Actually, I quite admire that about you. You're a lot like someone else." Istvan's words carried a hint of disdain.

"I'm not like you!" Henry roared angrily.

"That's right, you let me go last time out of honor. But I might not be able to do the same." Istvan saw that the camp guards had come over to control the situation and knew that he was not in immediate danger, so he started to provoke them again.

"War has taken your family away. Do you think you're the only victim? No, no, no, young man, it's not just you. War may take away some things, but it also gives our lives a special meaning, your life, mine... for everyone caught in its grip."

Istvan pointed to himself and said, "My parents were killed when the Ottomans invaded the Balkans." He then pointed to Eric, "Seven years ago, I was leading a mercenary army in Moravia. When I saw Eric standing beside my parents' bodies, I was reminded of myself back then, so I adopted him."

"Your mercenary might be the murderer who killed his parents!" Young Master Hans added from the side.

To everyone's surprise, Istvan didn't seem to care at all. He shrugged and said, "Who knows? Maybe. We mercenaries are just a tool in the lord's hand. Whom to hate is for the parties involved to decide."

"You'll go to hell!" Henry cursed.

Easter said nonchalantly, "Heh heh heh, do you think someone like me would be afraid of going to hell? Powerful nobles use hell to scare you fools and make you obey. God doesn't care about me at all, and neither do I."

"Aren't you afraid of revenge from the victims' families?!" Henry was still furious.

"Revenge does not give life any more meaning."

As Istvan saw more and more prisoners gathering, he became even less afraid. "Revenge is just childish and futile. It won't put food on the table, nor will it help you get a wife."

"But it'll make you feel better," Henry retorted.

Istvan shrugged. "That's undeniable. It all depends on how you view the meaning of war."

"No matter how you view war, its meaning to me is certainly different from yours," Henry scoffed, directly pointing out the difference between them: "I want to end the war, while you only want to profit from it and gain power!"