Chapter 618 Shield of the Silver Lake

Every member of the Wilmot Family, even the dishwashing maids whose status was barely higher than that of the pets kept by the young masters and mistresses, had gazed up at the massive oil painting hanging high on the drawing room wall more than once.

"Heartdrop," "Shield of the Silver Lake," "Fearless Grove."

Centuries ago, it was this very man—a legendary general who ranked highly even in the history of the Servia Kingdom—who wielded the heirloom iron shield said to be forged from the core essence of the Silver Lake of Dreams. Leading his Silver Knights, he smashed powerful ancient factions into bloody pulp, forcibly conquering a vast expanse of land for the kingdom in the Northeastern Hills and fending off countless invasions from the northern barbarians.

Looking at the kingdom's modern borders, the better part of the Calm Peaks Province—spanning the entire northeastern frontier with Salt Rock Port at its center—had been conquered by this legendary general.

Even today, deep in the mountains of the northern Calm Peaks Province, the oldest barbarian tribes still passed down nightmarish tales of the vicious human wielding a heavy silver-white shield. Rumor had it that he could eat nine barbarian children in a single meal.

Thanks to this great ancestor who had earned illustrious War Merits for the kingdom, the Wilmot Family still retained the title of "hereditary count" in name. This held true even though the family had never produced a single figure with even one percent of their forebear's brilliance since the second generation, and their vast territories in the kingdom's east had been entirely reclaimed. All they had left was a noble estate in the heart of the Imperial Capital and a few meager, unimpressive assets.

The recent generations of Wilmot heirs had not completely given up without a fight, of course.

After all, no matter how far the family's power had fallen, this luxurious estate inherited from their ancestor still offered a glimpse of their former glory. It remained quite respectable even among the countless mansions and grand courtyards of the Imperial Capital.

Leveraging this, the Wilmot heirs frequently hosted banquets, inviting the high-ranking officials and nobles of the Imperial Capital in hopes of forging connections. But the results...

It was much like their ancestor—a man who had once fought on the battlefields and established a world-renowned legacy for the Servia Kingdom, but who was now confined within a gilded frame as an oil painting in full armor, hung high on the wall to watch his family decline generation after generation.

In such a massive Imperial Capital, who would be willing to freely support a count's family that was steadily falling into ruin?

In the foreseeable future, the once-glorious Wilmot Family would inevitably share the fate of the other families from their founder's era, reduced to nothing more than dust beneath the wheels of history.

As the third son of the current Count Wilmot, Zanfrey hadn't been particularly interested in the family's past during his childhood. He only came to understand the weight behind his surname through the repeated, sometimes forced or indirect praises of his ancestor's glorious deeds from his elders, the managing maids, and the banquet guests.

However, as he grew older and gradually experienced the cold stares and subtle mockery that came with his identity as the son of a maid—hidden in every inconspicuous corner—he developed an unprecedented passion for the family history he had once ignored.

He flipped through the genealogical records, fantasizing about how, if he could become the Lord Wilmot of this era, he would guide the family back onto the right path.

Countless times, he stood beneath the drawing room wall and gazed up at the oil painting of his Shield of the Silver Lake ancestor. Based on the man's personality as recorded in family history, Zanfrey speculated on how he would react if he could see the Wilmot Family's current state.

He even tried to prove himself in front of his father and the elders, wanting to show that he, Zanfrey, hadn't shamed the Shield of the Silver Lake bloodline in his veins, and that even a maid's son had the capability to inherit the family's glorious title.

As for the results...

He was a naive sixteen-year-old boy born into a noble family who, from a commoner's perspective, had grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth and never weathered a real storm. How could he possibly be a match for the ambitious schemers coveting the count's title and desperate to elevate their own children to power?

From Zanfrey's perspective, he still maintained a fairly good relationship with his two older brothers.

Even though he hadn't done anything wrong, he had already lost any chance of competing for the title due to the myriad of incomprehensible and unseen maneuvers orchestrated by the other elders. A teenager might be ignorant, but at such an age, how could he ever compromise?

"If you don't want me to be the count, I don't even want it anyway!"

At sixteen, his entire understanding of the world came from the books in his family's library and the bards on the streets.

Young men always harbored a few unrealistic fantasies about their own abilities and potential.

A chest full of hot blood, coupled with just a little deliberate guidance from those with ulterior motives...

Thus, the wealthy young master who was supposed to live a stable life in Servia's Imperial Capital ended up in a remote port town he had only ever heard of from others. Carrying the dream of reforging the Wilmot Family's glory, he could almost picture himself in the future—replicating his ancestor's glorious deeds, establishing a grand legacy on the border, and returning to the Imperial Capital to see his father's proud face and the awkward, regretful smiles of his harsh aunts.

Unfortunately, the naive teenager marching toward a beautiful future with Bloodcast Keep as his destination met his Waterloo on the second day after leaving Salt Rock Port.

"Damn it, it's a Manticore!" A young man dressed in the kingdom's official standard equipment, looking like the leader, gripped his longsword with both hands and ground his teeth.

"Prepare for battle!"

Trapped in the valley alongside Zanfrey was a small squad of nine kingdom soldiers.

They naturally weren't the escorts of this half-abandoned young master.

They were a conscription squad from Bloodcast Keep, and their destination was Salt Rock Port.

Speaking of which, Zanfrey's luck was actually quite good.

In the complex terrain between Salt Rock Port and Bloodcast Keep, he had somehow managed to run right into this conscription squad halfway through his journey.

He even wondered if his ancestor, unable to bear watching the family's current miserable state, was secretly giving him a helping hand from the beyond.

Zanfrey had already finished communicating with these soldiers and had become the first recruit they drafted on this trip.

Although he hadn't been gone for long, he planned to return to Salt Rock Port with the conscription squad first, and then follow the main army back to Bloodcast Keep. Along the way, he would reveal his identity as a descendant of the Shield of the Silver Lake. Who knew? He might just secure his very first batch of subordinates right out of the gate.

Of course, the prerequisite for all of this was surviving the attack of the monsters right in front of him.

"Young Master, please hide carefully behind me and don't move," said Uncle Ake, Zanfrey's sole attendant, guard, and steward for this journey.

He was a middle-aged man in his forties with graying hair. As a family steward, he had practically watched Zanfrey grow up and was one of the few adults in the massive Wilmot household who stood in the third young master's camp.

Speaking from the perspective of an elder, he naturally disapproved of Zanfrey leaving on his own, especially to embark on such a risky venture to the border.

On the other hand, even though his personal stance favored the third young master, Ake was ultimately just a minor steward of the Wilmot Family. He had no power to defy the orders coming from above.

He could roughly guess the patriarch's thoughts on the matter.

Given that Zanfrey's abilities were limited and he was entirely out of the running for the count's title, wanting to venture out and make a name for himself wasn't a crime. If he succeeded, that would naturally be for the best. The patriarch didn't expect him to somehow revive the family, but even if Zanfrey could just secure them a few more political resources in the Imperial Capital, that would be wonderful.

And if he failed to make a name for himself... to the Wilmot Family, it would just mean losing a wealthy deadbeat who was waiting to die anyway.

From a standpoint of pure interest, Zanfrey running away from home was a win-win situation for the family.

Of course, the boy was still a descendant of Fearless Grove.

If he couldn't even reach his destination and died miserably on the side of the road like a stray dog, that would be far too pathetic.

Therefore, as one of the family stewards who possessed considerable strength and a Class Level of 3, Ake followed the young man out of the Imperial Capital. On the surface, he was genuinely loyal to the third young master, but in secret, he had also received an escort mission from the family patriarch to protect him. The young master had lived under the Wilmot Family's wings since childhood. Even when he suffered grievances, they usually just took the form of cold mockery from the other branches of the family. He had never experienced a true life-and-death crisis, nor did he have any real adventuring experience.

As a result, he had acted a bit erratic and impulsive along the way when faced with all sorts of novelties and the diverse crowds of people coming and going.

Fortunately, Ake had been right by his side. Even when Zanfrey went a little too far, Ake could quickly remind him and pull him back in line, which was why they hadn't caused any major trouble... until now.

With a solemn expression, Ake swept his vigilant gaze over the three monsters a short distance ahead, which were faintly forming an encirclement around them.

He carefully analyzed the situation on the battlefield.

A Manticore had a Challenge Rating of 3. In the vast majority of cases, even if a monster's Challenge Rating shared the same number as a normal adventurer's Class Level, their actual combat strength would be worlds apart.

Even for a veteran like him, who had walked the professional path for decades, taking on a monster with a Challenge Rating equal to his own Class Level in a one-on-one frontal clash would likely end in a bare stalemate.

If he wanted to win, he would have to risk his life.

But his most important mission right now was to protect Young Master Zanfrey's safety. Blindly risking his life was ill-advised.

Fortunately, although it seemed like they were facing three whole monsters...

Only one of them was a fully mature Manticore.

The remaining two were still in their youth and hadn't fully developed, making them visibly much weaker in terms of combat power.

Furthermore...

Out of the corner of his eye, Ake caught sight of the soldiers beside them, who had already formed up into a battle formation, and he breathed a slight sigh of relief.

Even though the strongest among them was only the squad captain at Level 2, and out of the remaining eight, only three had obtained Class Levels while the rest were entirely ordinary soldiers...

Relying on the numerical advantage and tactical formations of intelligent creatures, they should be able to narrow the gap in combat strength to some extent.

It wasn't a dead end!

Just as Ake was thinking this, the Manticore's roar from ahead was suddenly accompanied by the powerful beating of wings, rapidly closing in! It might have lacked the intelligence of the humans on the field, but its innate beastly Perception was far more sensitive.

Detecting the aura Ake emitted—the strongest among all its prey—

The adult Manticore locked onto him as its target almost instantly.

Its fierce, resounding roar nearly whipped up waves of invisible ripples in the air.

It was too fast.

From the perspective of an ordinary person like Zanfrey, who had yet to obtain a Class Level, he had just instinctively squeezed his eyes shut from the sudden, ear-splitting pain of the roar.

By the time he opened them again...

The terrifying monster that had previously been a blurry shape in the distant valley woods had already descended right in front of him.

Separated only by his Uncle Ake, the beast was so close that Zanfrey could practically see the writhing pink muscles deep in its throat and mouth as it roared.

A warm wave of air washed over him, carrying a thick, foul stench and making his blond hair sway.

The sudden approach of the man-eating monster brought such a powerful momentary shock that the third young master of the Shield of the Silver Lake Family pathetically froze in place.

It was understandable, though.

Even if a low-tier adventurer with some combat experience were put in his shoes, directly facing a terrifying monster with a Challenge Rating two levels higher than the Bugbear—which was notorious as a "rookie adventurer killer"—they wouldn't necessarily be able to keep their cool.

To just stand there frozen in fear, rather than collapsing to the ground or losing control of his bladder in a far more wretched display, could already be considered incredibly brave for a noble young master like Zanfrey who had zero combat experience.

"Hah!"

Standing in front of Zanfrey, his personal guard Ake knew full well that with the young master's physical constitution, a careless brush from the Manticore's tail would probably send him straight to heaven.

Shouting fiercely, he took the initiative and charged straight at the Manticore before him.

Tracing back to the professional traditions of the Shield of the Silver Lake Family, even though Ake was just a family steward and couldn't access the Wilmot Family's core class system, the scraps that fell from above were more than enough to widen the gap between him and bottom-tier adventurers.

He had taken on the most common class on the continent, the [Warrior], but the four combat techniques he had learned complemented each other perfectly, forming a cohesive system. Hum.

A gentle silver light, rippling like lake water, surged from deep within his body to cover him entirely, forming a tough, translucent membrane over his skin. He leaned his entire center of gravity against his heavy metal shield, the center of which was engraved with the Wilmot Family crest—a pale blue water wave on a black background. As his footsteps accelerated, the air around the edges of the shield seemed to compress, bending inward into a faintly visible arc that enveloped and protected his whole body.

"Crash!"

The sound of flesh and blood colliding with metal erupted through the valley.

The beast clearly hadn't expected its prey to dare launch a preemptive attack.

The Manticore, which had been pouncing toward Ake, took the full brunt of the heavy shield like it had been rammed by a speeding train.

The massive shockwave from the impact left its beastly eyes dazed for a split second.

Ake's tackle actually lifted its enormous, lion-bodied and human-headed frame entirely off the ground.

Man and beast were sent flying diagonally through the air.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, answering the adult Manticore's roar, the other two visibly smaller Manticores pounced at the soldiers who had just arranged their battle formation.