61: Chapter 52 Thorny Flower Flag 61: Chapter 52 Thorny Flower Flag Finally, with sweat beading on his forehead, he ran to the griffin’s side, and the unexpected conflict was ultimately stopped in time by Leon.
“Stay calm, these people aren’t enemies…” Leon soothed the griffin with gestures and drawings, eventually smoothing down the bristled plumage around its neck.
Leon turned his head upon hearing the call.
He saw a little girl sitting on the back of a horse ridden by an old nobleman clad in armor, waving and shouting towards them.
It was the brown-haired little girl they had rescued from the hands of mercenary thugs at the Windmill Mill just yesterday.
She was still wearing the outer clothes and trousers that Leon and his two companions had taken off and given to her that day, which made her easy to recognize.
Little Lina stopped waving and turned to point, saying, “Lord Trosa, that’s one of the three foreign big brothers who saved me yesterday.”
That’s not surprising then.” Trosa watched the young man’s intimate interaction with the griffin, realizing what had killed the group of fleeing Kantadar soldiers.
The Old Earl looked down, saw the urgency in Little Lina’s demeanor, and gently lifted the girl from the horseback and placed her on the ground with his hands under her armpits.
The moment Lina’s feet touched the ground, she joyfully ran towards Leon, breaking into a sprint.
But upon reaching the middle of the road and seeing the massive, terrifying creature, she slowed down, fear filling her eyes as she dared not come any closer.
Leon, seeing this, turned and patted the griffin’s body, “Go rest for now, good brother.
I’m fine, and if trouble really arises, it’s not too late for you to come rescue me.”
It wasn’t clear whether it understood or just sensed that Leon bore no hostility toward the army before them, but the griffin shook its head and emitted a soft cry, then sprang into the air, circling above the crowd with flaps of its wings.
Only then did Leon turn back to Lina.
“Big brother, I’m glad you’re okay.
What about the other two brothers?
Is Sister Olivia saved as well?” Lina ran up to him, wiping her recently tear-stained eyes, asking with anxious concern.
“We’re all right, but many people in the village were not so fortunate.” Leon sighed, unsure whether any of the family of this little sister lay among the hundred-odd corpses on the ground.
However, recalling the girl’s close call at Windmill Tower where she had nearly been defiled, he feared her relatives were probably out of luck.
“But indeed, you really brought back Lord’s rescue troops.” Leon praised her, stroking her little head to comfort her, “Well done, Lina.”
Initially, when the little girl mentioned finding rescue troops, Leon hadn’t taken her seriously, and the sight of the grand assembly before him was completely unexpected.
“No, they’re not the troops of the Lord.” Lina shook her head to explain, “I just reached the road to town last night when I ran into these knights.
Thankfully, they are good people.
After I explained the situation, the revered Lord Trosa immediately brought me back here.”
Not the Lord’s troops?
Leon looked towards the densely packed ranks of knights nearby, marveling at the display of fluttering banners and lavish tunics.
Especially the one leading with a large axe – if Leon wasn’t mistaken, did the blade seem to be glowing?
What kind of high technology was this?
If these gallant Heavy Armor Knights weren’t mere show, he wondered whether his griffin friend could truly contend with this formidable army.
Leon shook his head, discarding his wild guesses; at least they were not enemies.
Taking the girl’s small hand, he walked towards the exquisitely armored knights, stopping a short distance away.
Following the memory of the body’s original owner, he adopted the posture of a Seryan Kingdom commoner facing nobility, respectfully placing his left hand on his chest and bowing to the assembled Noble Knights.
“My name is Leon, and I have the honor of meeting all the distinguished lords.
Please forgive the lack of thorough hospitality, as this place has just undergone a disaster.
However, the surviving villagers have gone to make efforts to prepare a place for tying horses and resting.”
At that moment, he felt somewhat relieved he hadn’t been transported into an Otherworld with a more rigid social hierarchy like that of the Ming or Qing dynasties.
At least from what he recalled of the original Leon’s memories, in the culture of the Felu people, even as a commoner, one typically did not need to prostrate with a double-knee kowtow to nobles under normal circumstances.
Such an act was generally reserved for those bearing guilt or as prisoners.
When meeting someone of higher rank, in an informal setting, the lower-ranking individual only had to be respectful, bow, and avoid direct eye contact with the honored person’s eyes.
The depth of the bow depended on the status of the person bowing – the lower one’s status, the deeper the bow – but it should never exceed ninety degrees, as bowing too low could be seen as a foolish act of disrespect.
More formal kneeling in the presence of superiors occurred in official audiences and typically depended on the situation and the rank of the parties involved.
The Inner Court Knights beside the Old Earl maintained their silence in the face of Leon’s bow, refraining from returning their names to him.
After all, the Great Nobles of the Orland Kingdom had no obligation to disclose their names to a mere commoner.
Lord Trosa sat on his horse, taking in the polite young man, then inspecting the armor he wore.
He recognized the uniform as belonging to the enemy they had been pursuing, and he had previously come across Baron Dawson among the bodies outside the village.
“No problems, young man, if there are no more enemies here, my troops won’t stay too long,” Trosa said, interestedly appraising him.
“I heard from Little Lina that you are not from Orland?
Your accent and word usage, did you come from Rolannar?”