The next three days passed by in a flash for John, and from his perspective, he made good use of his time. 

After Eh had filled him in on everything that had happened, from how the battle with the orc Blade Master went, to how the men were doing daily patrols over the region. They were hunting both the remnants of the orcs and the Bloodhill bandits. Apparently, John had actually killed the bandit’s leader on the first day he was in this world. The Alphabets’ ranks had also been reinforced with another six footmen and two riflemen, bringing their total numbers to twenty one.

John didn’t ask their names… he already had a good idea.

John was extremely surprised at how he killed that orc, and he was very concerned that he couldn’t stop laughing about it. He knew he had a temper, but had no recollection of a time in his life when he uncontrollably laughed like that. He chalked it up to having his blood up from the injury and the weird magic in his sword, though he was secretly concerned this was yet another consequence of DEN reducing his mental supports. 

Sylvia had excused herself to go and change her clothes, then the three of them toured the village. Much of the rubble had already been cleared, and many new homes had already been constructed. The Steeltoe brothers had set up a temporary blacksmith just outside the town walls and had been aiding in the reconstruction efforts. When John asked them why they were still sticking around, they just laughed at him, saying he was an interesting character and they wanted to see what he would do next. John laughed along with them, shaking his head. If he had a couple of dwarven blacksmiths wanting to follow them around, he wasn’t going to stop them. 

Sylvia started showing him in detail how the town worked, from dealing with local merchants, the reconstruction of the village gates, to how human waste was removed from the side alleys. It was astonishing how much had to happen to keep just a village of eight hundred people running smoothly. 

They didn’t return to her mansion until later that evening, where they just had a quiet meal and went to sleep together again. No mention of giving her an heir came up in conversation, which he was thankful for, as he hadn’t given it any thought since he left the village before his injury. 

Over the next two days, they travelled to the outlying hamlets to check on the people and how the new fields were doing. They ended up helping the peasants seed the new fields and weed the old ones, Sylvia simply stating that it was everyone’s duty in the village to aid the farmers during planting and harvest times. Eh acted like he was going to have a fit when John picked up a hoe, but he shushed the man before he could make another scene. He was really overprotective of his prince’s position and didn’t want him doing work that was beneath him.

“I will make you work with me while you wear that armour if you keep at it, Eh. Or perhaps you would like to join me shovelling shit over at those chicken coops?” John said, teasing his Captain a little. 

“I would happily do that if it meant you didn’t lower yourself to the level of us commoners. You are a prince, and will be the king one day. What would the nobles think of you wallowing in the mud with us peasants?” He whispered back to him.

“Probably call me the muck king or something dumb. One should always know where one’s food comes from. I am experiencing what my people have to go through every day, and if I’m lucky, I just might come up with ways to make their lives easier.” John replied. He was already thinking that when he returned to a world like High School DXD, he could look up farming techniques and equipment they could try and implement here whenever he returned. Or when he got his bag back, he could introduce higher-yielding crops by bringing a few bags of seeds from another world. He knew it was just a matter of time before he was outed as someone who transmigrated here, or whatever possessing the body of their prince would be called, so bringing something to improve their lives might help soften that blow.

On the evening of the third day, Sylvia decided to join him in the tub to soak, the pair of them exhausted from the day’s labour.  She was lying back on his chest, sighing softly. His arms were wrapped around her body, the pair of them resting contentedly in the hot water. Fundamentally, he knew this was wrong, and he should have taken another room, that he shouldn’t have allowed them to grow closer over these last few days, but they had. 

She had a fierce intelligence behind her soft brown eyes, a quick wit and was charming to boot. If they were back on Earth, he had no doubt she would have been a successful CEO or somewhere in politics. It was only in moments like this that she would relax and show him her softer side, which he found incredibly alluring, where she just wanted to be held in his arms, sharing skinship like they were a happily married couple. 

A woman like Sylvia was John’s kryptonite.

Still, she hadn’t tried to push her heir plan on him again, which he was grateful for. He really didn’t want to have children and only be part of their lives from a distance, which was the only way he could see anything working unless she came with him to the capital once he assumed his duties there. He didn’t want to ask her that, to be nothing more than his mistress in the castle, while he had to have a legal wife of much higher status. She also appeared to truly love overseeing this land and the people she was in charge of. Asking her to become nothing more than a minor noble, little more than a peasant, in a castle full of royalty and high nobles would be a waste of her skills.

As for other marriage options, his fragmented memories once again could not tell him a lot. From what he could tell, there were only a few women in Lordaeron who met the king’s criteria to become John’s wife, Jaina was really the only contender that stood out in his mind. Outside the kingdom was another story, and his memories did not provide him any information about who a possible candidate would be. 

He will probably come up with some alliance I will need to solidify by a political marriage. I am really not liking the lack of freedom of choice this world is presenting me. 

He sighed. That would all go out the window whenever his secret was revealed. He highly doubted they would let him remain the crown prince of a country when that came out. That might give him the freedom to stay here with Sylvia, if they didn’t chase him out of their lands entirely. Or kill him outright.

“What is on your mind?” Sylvia said, shifting her body closer to his chest.

“Just the future. These past few days have been wonderful, but I imagine Uther will be back soon, then we will be off to Dalaran, then who knows where afterwards. I am going to miss moments like these.” He said, then on a whim, he snaked his arm up between her breasts and gripped her neck lightly, like he knew she liked. 

“Mmm… you know you are welcome to visit at anytime. I don’t intend to wed again, so we could always share these moments when you stop by.” She replied, then turned her head a bit and looked up at him.

“You’re a dangerous woman, you know that?” He replied, then leaned forward a bit to kiss her.

*BANG*

The door slammed open, and a blonde woman wearing a long purple cape rushed into the room, out of breath and in apparent distress.

“JOHN! HURRY WE NEED TO- Wha?!? What are you doing?!?” She screamed.

Shit

Earlier

Town of Hearthglen

“Milord! A message has arrived from Strahnbrad!” A knight announced, approaching Lord Uther and Jaina. 

“Really? I hope it is some good news. We could really use that right about now.” Uther said, taking the letter from the man’s hand.

“Yes, Sir. The prince awoke three days ago. Captain Eh dispatched me after ascertaining that the prince seemed to be hale and in sound mind. In fact, he was up and dressed, and about to tour the village with the baroness when I departed.” The messenger replied.

“Thank the light,” Jaina said despite herself. The troubles they had encountered ever since arriving in the north had been disturbing, this was the first bit of good news they had received.

They had been travelling through the North for over a week, searching for the source of this plague that had been reported to the capital nearly a month ago. They discovered grain silos that had been tampered with in several towns, their contents now poisoned with dark energies, killing anyone who ate them and turning them into the undead.

They then met a necromancer called Kel’Thuzad in the town of Brill, who had been behind the ‘plague’ and chased him to the city of Andorhal. The entire population of the city had already been wiped out, the undead having overrun the whole area. They discovered that the city’s granaries had already been emptied, and the poisoned grain had already been shipped out to the surrounding towns and villages. They finally tracked down the necromancer and killed him, but not before he had revealed he was not the mastermind of this operation but was working on behalf of a demon named Mal’Ganis. This demon was leading something called The Scourge, and if they wanted to know more, they would need to head to the city of Stratholme. 

Something felt odd to her about the whole ordeal, and not just that a large portion of Lordaeron’s population in the northern cities, towns, and villages was in very real danger from these undead. No, something closer seemed off, like this was all supposed to have played out differently. 

Uther had scanned through the message, nodding to himself. “This is good, the lad seems to have recovered quickly.” He said once he finished reading the note, he offered it to her. 

She read through it quickly, though there wasn’t much more to it than what the messenger had already passed on. She handed it back and then looked around the town. Hearthglen was one of many towns in the north, normally a rather peaceful-looking place if you ignored the fortified walls that surrounded it. That couldn’t be said for today.

In the centre of the town square, a company of soldiers stood in formation performing battle drills, while other villagers were near the entrance to the keep, being armed and armoured by a grizzled old man wearing a heavy looking set of armour. The man appeared ancient, but still standing tall despite it. Other than that, the other notable thing was that he was missing an arm.  

“Gerard!” Uther shouted as he approached the man, the two obviously knowing each other from some time in the past.

“Lord Uther! It is good to see you.” The man replied, pausing in suiting the next man up in a mismatched set of old armour.  

“You as well. Now tell me, what brought you out of retirement? Last time I saw you, I had to cut the rest of that stump you call an arm off.”

“Darndest thing, brother. Last night, a vast army of undead started attacking the nearby villages. Now, the reports say it is heading this way. Without a lord here, I decided to volunteer to get these louts in order. Helluva way to enjoy my retirement, having to play nanny to a bunch of wet behind the ear whelps.” The man replied, speaking to Lord Uther the Lightbringer, the supreme leader of The Knights of the Silver Hand, as if they were close friends.

“Do you have numbers on this army?” Uther asked, a concerned look replacing the joy that was there a few moments prior.

“Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands? We don’t know. A lot more than we have defenders here, and they have siege weapons too. The scouts haven’t been able to get me an accurate count as they keep multiplying every time I send scouts out to check, so I am going to arm as many people as possible and hope for a bloody miracle. Hah, hopefully these undead don’t get my other arm, eh?” The man said with a chuckle, continuing to outfit another villager.

“Jaina, return to John and tell him everything Gerard just told us. I will stay here with our remaining men and try to delay them. Get him to go to the capital and raise an army.” Uther said.

Jaina looked behind them at the paltry dozen soldiers remaining with them, the rest sent off to chase other grain shipments. With those kinds of numbers, Uther and his troops would hard-. She stopped when she noticed a pile of open grain crates nearby, the crest of Andorhal stamped on them.

“Lord Uther.” She said and pointed.

The old paladin was quick on the uptake and didn’t need further explanation. “I’ll deal with it. Go, Jaina, warn the kingdom. This might be as large a threat to Lordaeron as the orcs were in the last war.”

“But-” She started, but he cut her off.

“I know damn well you set a teleportation point to the Strahnbrad town hall. Go, and tell that rotten kid if he can save our asses, I’ll forgive his indiscretions. He will know what that means.” Uther said then, turned away from her and began taking charge of the town. 

Jaina took one last look at the town, then cast her teleportation spell, leaving the old paladin behind.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep