Simon felt that he was beginning to feel uneasy, and there seemed to be a big stone pressing down in his heart, making people breathless.

On the way back to the siege camp, there were corpses everywhere. Broken limbs, organs and dirty blood were spilled on the brown and green mud grass canvas, and the air was filled with a disgusting smell of blood.

The soldiers began to clean the battlefield, some soldiers unloaded their equipment and weapons in front of the bodies; some soldiers helped their injured teammates to walk towards the camp; some soldiers held axes to help the enemy who was screaming in tears.

The knight in a blue burqa took Simon back to the siege camp of Count Luo's siege camp, which was also in a mess. In addition to the incomplete corpses everywhere, many tents were burned out of recognition, and at this time, the sparks were burning with thick smoke.

"We're here." said the knight, getting off the horse at the big tent in the middle of the camp, and handing the reins to the groom who was on standby at the tent.

"..." Simon didn't say anything.

The closer he was to his father, the stronger his palpitations and the more uneasiness he felt.

Although he is not Simon's real father, he is one of the best and most caring people Simon has come to this world after he comes to him.

Old Coaother was a good man, a kind lord, and he was famous and people respected him very much. Simon was sure that Lange, the first heir of Old Coaother, would not be like this. Lange was a cruel, cold and scheming guy.

It can be said that if Old Coaother really encountered misfortune, Simon would have to walk the next path himself, and there would be no more protective umbrella on his head.

"Fatty, you don't have to dismount. You and Gabriel are now back to Foldberg as fast as possible and invite the pharmacist Arthur Rod!" After Simon got off the horse, he turned around and stopped the fat man who was about to dismount on the kick.

"Isn't there a priest here to treat the Baron?" the fat man said in confusion.

"Shut up, you do whatever I tell you to do. Where did so much nonsense come from?" Seeing the fat man talking back to himself at this critical moment when his life was at stake, Simon suddenly became angry and frowned and scolded the fat man loudly.

"I'm sorry, young master, I'll do it now." The fat man quickly lowered his head and admitted his mistake, then turned his head and ran out of the camp. After a while, he disappeared.

Apart from the natives of this world, who would have learned that his father's life was in danger? He was still being treated by a damn stupid bald donkey, and wouldn't he be angry? This time the fat man really hit Simon's gun.

"Master Simon."

The two soldiers guarding the door greeted Simon respectfully and then raised the curtain.

With the light outside the curtain and the faint candlelight in the tent, Simon saw Coother lying on a bed covered with exquisitely decorated blankets, which should be the bed of Count Luowen.

The servants were busy beside each other, and beside the old Coorthor, a priest was bleeding on his right arm.

Seeing this, Simon's anger rose again.

Lange sat on a backrest chair next to him, with his elbows on his thighs and his chin on his fists, thinking expressionlessly.

"I really don't know whether he is in the joy of being about to succeed the throne or the sorrow of losing his biological father." Simon speculated maliciously.

He and Lange knew that they hated each other and that their usual harmony was just pretending. At that time, the father was still healthy, so they did not break up. But if his father passed away and Lange became Simon's new lord, all this would be put on the table.

"Simon." Coorther felt the change of light, turned his head and weakly called out to his favorite young son.

"Father." Simon's nose felt sour when he saw the sweat beads on his head and the blood red on the bandage on his chest.

"You go out first." Simon said to the priest who was bleeding in a bad tone.

"Your Excellency, I'm afraid I will not obey my fate. The arrow shot into the Baron's chest is very dirty. I firmly believe that it polluted the pure blood in the Baron's body. If he did not expel the dirty blood, he would probably not be able to go to heaven if he encountered misfortune..." The priest stood in place like a wooden stake, saying to Simon without fear.

The word "nonsense" has already spread to Simon's mouth, but he took it back. Simon has to take into account the feelings of his father and Lange, two truly devout Christians.

It is difficult to change human concepts. If Simon prevented the priest from bleeding and bombarded him, and then disinfected Koother's wounds with strong liquor, it would not be useful even if the words God deceived were brought out.

Perhaps Lange would take the opportunity to put the hat of disrespect to God and attempt to put his father's soul into hell on his head, which would look good.

"You go out first," said the old Coaother to the pastor, "I have something to say to my sons, and you come in and continue after you finish your words."

The priest placed the scalpel on the plate on the table next to it. Simon saw some blood stains on the plate and a sharp arrow wrapped in blood.

"You all go out too," Koother sent away the servant next to him, and then broke Lange's contemplation, "Lange, come here."

When the two brothers stood by his bed together, Koother licked his dry lips and said, "I have never mentioned it to you for so many years. You actually have a brother."

"What!?" Lange and Simon exclaimed at the same time.

Old Koother observed Simon and Lange's expressions carefully. Simon was only surprised, and Lange frowned slightly when he was surprised. Although it was not obvious, Koother still keenly captured it.

"He was the child born to a rural girl in Frisian, my illegitimate child. Almost twenty years ago, I passed by the small village called Gaiteng, and the village chief warmly received me. After drinking that night, everything happened naturally." Old Coaother stared at the roof and said slowly.

"He was raised by that country girl later?" Lange asked expressionlessly.

"Yes, his name is Linde, bigger than Simon and younger than Lange. When he was twelve, I sent him to the Church of Devantel in Ethel. Now, he is the monk Linde of Devantel."

Simon noticed that Lange's originally stiff face was relieved. It seemed that after confirming that the Lind brothers devoted themselves to the church and would not compete with him for inheritance, Lange breathed a sigh of relief in his heart.

"Also, about the legacy..." Old Coaother suddenly started to cough violently.

Simon quickly brought the kettle from the side. After drinking the water, he continued, "Langer, you will inherit my title, my territory and all my property. Simon, you will continue to retain the title of jazz and all your rights in Feldburg."

"Yes, father."

Simon nodded and glanced at Lange next to him. When Coother talked about Simon's rights in Feldburg, Lange's expression changed slightly.

Simon couldn't help but become alert.

"After I die, you brothers are not allowed to fight for the inheritance! Do you understand?" Old Coaother was not stupid. He knew what Lange was thinking, so he gave it a stern tone.

"I understand, father." The two answered one after another.

"I definitely don't know, but Lange is not sure, this greedy jackal!" Simon muttered in his heart.

"Very good, I will let the clerk write these in the will. Lange, if you want to succeed to the throne, you must take this will to Earl Berg to re-election and hold the ceremony. After that, your legal rights will be recognized and you can sit in the baron's position with justification."

"Of course, father," Lange said, walking to the large wooden table and putting his hand on the Bible that the pastor did not take, "I swear solemnly to God that I will definitely keep the will and never violate it."

Coother nodded with satisfaction, his originally tight face gradually relaxed, and he closed his eyes: "You guys go out and let the priest come in."

Simon and Lange looked at each other, then Lange quickly looked away, opened the curtain without looking back, and strided away from the tent.

"Master Lange, Master Lange, how about it?" After Lange left the camp, his personal servant Julian hurriedly came up.

Julian is a young man with freckles on his face and still unfamiliar. He is wearing a chain armor turban, a blue soft armored armoured suit, a studded leather armor vest, and an armed sword around his waist. He seems to have a good relationship with Lange.

"I didn't expect that my father would never let me inherit the Foldberg that should have belonged to me, and even wrote it in his will. It's a hell!" Lange said, spitting at the corpse of an enemy who was burned to death by the roadside.

"Can we use other methods... After all, Master Simon is just the second son who has no right to inherit any property. Lord Koother only favors him, and then sealed the village of Fold to him." Julian looked around, and the more he spoke, the less he spoke.

"Turn your mind, Julian, Koother wrote in his will the recognition of Simon's right to be in the Foldberg, and I must admit the will to succeed you!" Lange explained impatiently.

If the village of Folder was as poor as ever under Simon's rule, Lange would have nothing to do with it.

But the village of Folde has become Foldeburg, with rich fields, solid walls, and a newly built church, which makes Lange, who is greedy, secretly covet itchy.

"Then can we create an accident? For example..." Julian stared at Lange's blue eyes and winked obscurely.

"No, killing my brother is going to hell. I won't do this for a piece of territory," Lange quickly shook his head and denied Julian. "And if the matter is revealed, the legitimacy of my rights will be greatly questioned. Not only will I violate the will, but I will also lose the loyalty of my vassals, which will not be worth the loss."

"Do we want to let this big fat piece of meat be put into Master Simon's pocket?" Julian asked unwillingly.
Chapter completed!