Marcy, as agitated as a volcano, immediately slumped down in dejection, slamming his thick elbow heavily onto the table! It seemed as if even the rafters trembled. Marina, however, walked up to William Ford and said gently, “Lauren, the army of the Evil Grand Duke is not something to joke about. Do you have solid evidence? I’ll be going into town tomorrow to buy some goods. If your information is wrong, there’s still time to apologize to everyone now.”

William Ford nodded, already gaining some insight in his heart. He said nothing more, just smiled slightly and carried the worn short sword in his hand as he walked out. Time was precious, and since he had already received the hint he wanted, he naturally needed to move on to the next step.

The air in medieval Europe was very fresh. William Ford savored the thrill of the double attribute boost this world gave him, and as he ran along, he began to adapt to this brand new and powerful experience. Just imagine: someone who could originally jump half a meter high could now easily leap to a full meter—of course, this was a novel and profound feeling. For the calculating William Ford, it was essential to be fully aware of his body’s basic stats: how far he could jump in one step, how much weight he could cut with a single swing—these were matters of life and death in combat, where even the slightest difference could mean the world.

Finding the army of the Evil Grand Duke Galipodi was actually not difficult, especially at night. Usually, wherever troops camped, there would be a water source—convenient for cooking and also serving as a barrier. Next was the firelight; in this chaotic medieval era, discipline wasn’t so strict that they wouldn’t dare light a fire at night. Finally, there was distance: since he had been assigned this task, it was unlikely they would make him run all over the place in exhaustion.

So, very quickly, following the only river near the small town, William Ford first went seven or eight kilometers upstream, then doubled back and went two kilometers downstream, where he saw firelight and spotted a masked servant coming to fetch water.

He wore a light blue-green coat, with pale purple sleeves. His originally gray-white trousers were now so dirty they’d turned black, and the brownish-yellow straw boots on his feet were deeply sunk into the soft mud by the riverbank. Probably because he was a servant, his only armor was the iron helmet covering his face and a short sword hanging at his waist. He was struggling to scoop water from the river with a wooden bucket.

William Ford took a deep breath and quietly crept up from behind, using the cover of the reeds. Don’t forget, although William Ford was just a teenager, his other identity in the real world was that of a nationally wanted serial killer!

As the masked servant straightened up after fetching water, he was struck hard on the back of the head—a blow with the sword hilt right to a vital spot, knocking him out cold on the spot. Before twisting the guy’s neck, William Ford had already stripped off all his clothes and put them on himself.

Entry: The World of the Knights of the Round Table

Chapter 5: First Battle

The night was very quiet. In the hollow, only the campfire burned weakly, and many people were lazily lying on the grass mats nearby, drifting into dreams. After a while, someone suddenly said, “Why hasn’t the water-fetcher come back yet?”

This question immediately got a response from the others. They were all waiting to boil some hot water, soak their feet, and then have a good night’s sleep. Just then, the masked servant who had gone to fetch water finally staggered back, his clothes dirty and damp, even the mask on his face askew, clearly having taken a fall on the way.

This was a unit that seemed to exceed the standard size. The leader was a tall, heavily armored greatsword warrior with pale yellow beard, wearing chainmail and a red cloak over it, making him look quite intimidating.

At this moment, the leader was already leaning against the driest rock, hugging a giant sword half as tall as a man, snoring loudly. Beside him were eight masked servants, who usually maintained his weapons and armor, attended to his daily needs, and followed him into battle.

The other seven masked servants were already getting impatient. They directly snatched the bucket from their limping companion, put it on the fire to heat up for washing, and then all lay down to sleep. Only one older servant vaguely instructed, “You keep watch first, and you can dry your clothes by the fire too!”

The water-fetching masked servant twisted his body a bit and grumbled in his throat, as if protesting.

The night was silent.

All that could be heard was the rise and fall of snores. The masked servant sitting by the fire suddenly stood up quietly! Judging by his sharp, shadowy eyes, it was clearly William Ford!

He walked up to the nearest masked servant, his eyes fixed on the servant’s throat. Then, William Ford decisively drew his sword and slashed! There was not the slightest hesitation or mercy in his hand!