Feeling the formidable aura emanating from Donovan.

Hewitt almost uncontrollably bent down his waist.

That feeling was like facing a lion proclaiming its sovereignty, ceaselessly roaring.

He could hardly imagine that Donovan, severely injured and bedridden for years, still had such a fierce side.

As if venting out the anger within his body, Donovan's voice once again became weak.

"But... I am old after all..."

"Not to mention facing the enemy, it's hard for me to even stand up now..."

A long sigh filled with endless regret echoed in the bedroom.

Hewitt still dared not speak, continuing to busy himself with administering medicine.

Until half an hour later.

Hewitt wound Donovan in linen gauze and covered him with a quilt.

He spoke, "Master, the medicine has been changed, rest well, I'll come again next time."

Donovan, lying on his side, did not speak but responded with a sound.

"I know, leave."

Hewitt responded, carried the medicine chest, and retreated.

After the sound of the double wooden doors opening and closing, the bedroom, which was already quiet, returned to silence.

Walking out the door.

Hewitt scanned around with his eyes, but he did not see that strange yet familiar figure.

Just as he was puzzled and about to leave, a slim and tall silhouette stepped out from around the corner ahead.

Even though Mark Ducas said nothing, Hewitt lowered his head and walked swiftly up.

Coming to Marco's side, Hewitt promptly spoke, "Marquis."

Mark slightly turned his head, glanced at Hewitt, and spoke calmly, "Doctor Hewitt, I feel slightly unwell, could you diagnose and analyze me?"

Hewitt raised an eyebrow and responded, "Of course, Marquis."

Seeing Mark stride forward, Hewitt quickly followed him.

After crossing several corridor corners, they arrived at an open-air balcony in the castle.

Mark stood at the edge of the railing, supporting himself with both hands, gazing into the distance.

Without needing Mark to ask, Hewitt began explaining.

"Marquis, during this medicine change for Master, his emotions fluctuated quite a bit."

Mark sneered from his mouth.

"Hem, let me guess... must be that old guy cursing me as useless, trash, only riding on coattails?"

Hewitt dared not respond.

Mark continued speaking, "Don't hold anything back, just repeat the exact words the old guy said."

Hewitt responded and began to repeat the words spoken in Donovan's bedroom.

Time ticked away, moment by moment.

Until Hewitt repeated Donovan's shout "A true strongman only crushes the enemy head-on."

Mark's face became covered in an expression of gloom.

He sneered again, "A true strongman... in front of the Three Great Dukes and the two Princes, does a small Duke-level Marquis like Ducas even qualify?"

"Crush the enemy head-on... relying on the Ducas family's tens of thousands of sword and shield soldiers?"

"Donovan Ducas is truly old!"

"Only able to live in times gone by..."

Standing behind Mark, Hewitt kept his head down, unwilling to have any reaction.

Finishing his words.

Mark, originally having his back to Hewitt, turned his body and faced Hewitt directly.

"Doctor Hewitt, did you use the medicine I prepared for the old guy in this treatment?"

"I suppose you wouldn't dare to defy a marquis's command, would you?"

Feeling the gazing of Mark, Hewitt's body instantly tensed.

He hurriedly explained, "Marquis, the medicine has been applied to Master."

"He... he did not notice anything unusual."

Mark nodded satisfactorily, "Remember, every time you change the medicine, make sure to add the medicine I prepared for him!"

"You may leave and rest now."

Receiving Mark's instructions, Hewitt was trembling with fear.

Quickly, he performed a departure salute and retreated.

Watching Hewitt step into the entrance of the dark corridor.

Only then did Mark turn his body to face the darkness ahead.

On the open-air balcony above.

Only Mark Ducas stood alone.

His hands still propped on the railing, gazing at the whole Bordeaux City covered by the night.

His eyes were full of flickering light.

As if silently opposing the vast dark sky.

After a short while.

Mark suddenly spoke to himself, "Any news of Lawrence?"

A soldier clad in sword and shield badge leather armor suddenly stepped out of the black night.

A deep voice sounded from the soldier's mouth.

"Sir, there has been no return of the envoy dispatched by Sir Lawrence yet."

"However, a month ago, a spy in the Duchy of the Red Dragon reported back that a remnant of the Feiyu Army fled from the Duchy of the Red Dragon and entered the territory of the Southern Border Land."

"Most likely, it is the remnant sword and shield soldiers led by Sir Lawrence."

Upon hearing this, Mark furrowed his brow slightly.

"Southern Border Land... is he thinking of returning the same way?"

Mark seemingly suddenly thought of something; he continued to ask.

"In the Southern Border Land, are there any Lords choosing Mitchell's side because of the Ducas family, betraying Ducas' rule?"

The soldier replied, "Sir, there have not been any rumors as of now."

"However, perhaps it is the struggle for Imperial Authority causing continuous friction among the Manor Lords in the Marquisate..."

Mark sneered, "A bunch of dogs raised by the Ducas family."

"They all want to seize more benefits and gain a larger domain as the situation becomes turbulent!"

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