Chapter 54: The Messenger of the Supreme King

With Hubert handling the affairs of the troupe, Johnston immediately felt a significant weight lifted from his shoulders.

He entrusted the troupe's matters to Hubert, while Helena and Elena received Johnston's favor. Knowing these two were well-connected, Hubert was somewhat overwhelmed.

For Johnston, more important matters awaited him now.

The affairs of Mies had been handed over to Brutton and Rolf, especially Brutton, who now commanded the entire training ground of Mies. Meanwhile, in Connacht, the influence of the Supreme King Roderick remained stagnant, nestled within the mountains of Connacht.

Johnston's immediate task was to gradually annex Irish territories.

After the death of Lord Cayman, West Mies plunged into chaos. Johnston gathered a battalion, preparing to seize West Mies during this opportune moment.

This turmoil presented a significant advantage for Johnston.

Noble youths from Lancaster volunteered to come here, seeking their own plots of land. They followed Johnston's banner to the lands of West Mies.

Knights of Lorneste and royal guards continued to fight on Irish soil under Johnston's leadership.

Accompanied by these ambitious knights, Johnston arrived at a small town in the heart of West Mies, Maringa.

In future ages, this place would become the capital city of West Mies. But for now, it was just an ordinary livestock town, a significant hub for trade in the region.

The Broosna River flowed quietly past the town, harmonizing with the bustling crowd.

The English army had little impact on the locals, who had grown accustomed to being pillaged by passing armies. Johnston's troops were considered among the more favorable.

On the opposite bank of the Broosna River, Johnston began to build a castle, preparing to establish it as his stronghold in central Ireland. The local Irish lords turned a blind eye, pretending nothing was happening.

Even if they were aware, they couldn't resist Johnston.

The banner of the Golden Plover family stood there, transforming the barren land into a castle step by step with bricks, wood, and tents.

"Roches, don't you find these days rather boring?" Johnston stood by the riverbank, drew an arrow, placed it on his hunting bow, and shot it out, disappearing without a trace. Despite his terrible archery skills, the knights cheered, making Johnston's face hard to maintain.

Flattering at such a time, these knights truly lacked a sense of humor.

Young Roches covered his mouth and said, "Indeed, Your Highness. There hasn't been much happening lately."

Seeing his expression, Johnston knew this guy was secretly enjoying himself.

John kicked Roches discreetly and then said with a grimace, "Forget it, let's return for now. If there's truly nothing urgent, we can continue advancing towards Connacht."

Quickly recovering from the kick, Roches straightened up and put on a serious face.

The group followed John back from the banks of the Broosna River. They traversed through the dusty construction site and returned to the recently established camp.

Inside John's tent, several Italians were tallying up lists.

"Our supplies here are confirmed, Your Highness," Silvio handed over a new list. "We have ample supplies on hand, enough for the entire army for at least three weeks."

John took the list and meticulously checked it from top to bottom. Satisfied that everything was in order, he returned the list to Silvio.

Silvio wiped the sweat from his brow; after all, it was his first time serving such a meticulous superior. Every inspection by John made him feel like he was facing a formidable enemy.

After handling logistics, John planned to take a nap to pass the dull time quickly.

But soon enough, events unfolded on their own. A mysterious visitor disrupted John's nap plans, and unusually, John took it seriously.

This messenger hailed from Connacht, sent by the Supreme King Roderick himself.

"Respected Prince of England, I come on behalf of our king, bearing his sincerity," the messenger, with fiery red hair, knelt before John.

Interrupted from his nap, John felt annoyed but waved his hand, allowing the messenger to continue.

The messenger spoke, "The Supreme King is weary of war now. Your conflict with him has brought countless pain and disaster to Ireland. Therefore, for the sake of all Ireland, the Supreme King is willing to negotiate peace with you and offer a generous treaty."

"What does 'generous treaty' mean?" John's irritation grew, but he decided to see what Roderick had up his sleeve first.

"The Supreme King is willing to let you become the next Supreme King of Ireland in exchange for peace between you and him. He hopes you can set aside your disputes and bring peace to Ireland."

Well, it's a plea for mercy.

John wasn't naive. Roderick's implication was probably that after he passed away, John could ascend to become the Supreme King of Ireland, commanding the lords across the land. But did John really want that future crown?

In terms of strength, John already stood unrivaled in all of Ireland. As long as Henry II didn't display paternal affection, he was the most powerful figure in Ireland. He already had the power to dominate Ireland, so why should he wait for Roderick to die to become the Supreme King?

As the saying goes, "The strong and vigorous is the Augustus." With John, who possessed the strongest power in all of Ireland, of course he wouldn't want to wait.

"I refuse this treaty," John said bluntly. "And I'll have you relay a message to your Supreme King. If he's willing to set aside his battered crown now and acknowledge me as the Supreme King of Ireland, I might consider sparing him. But if he comes to me with these conditions again, I'll march my army and finish him off right now."

Facing such harsh words, the messenger showed no fear. "Your demands exceed what the Supreme King can accept. I cannot agree to them."

John didn't say anything more; rejection was what he expected.

He simply gestured towards the tent flap, indicating for the messenger to leave. Without hesitation, the messenger departed from the tent, not looking back.

After dismissing the messenger, John turned to William and Roches. Both had been lost in thought earlier but snapped to attention under John's gaze.

"You two, go back now and gather the troops."

John's tone brooked no argument.

"We must teach Roderick a lesson. This dog of a man needs to learn."