I’m Really Not Trying to Be Chased by the Heroine as the Villainous Playboy! – Chapter 60

Chapter 60: The Lionheart King

The Lionheart Kingdom was mostly rugged mountains and dense forests; even the King’s Road rarely saw any flat terrain.

Iron Blood Ridge was still quite a distance from Lionheart City; even by carriage, it took nearly a week to get there.

Fortunately, the leading beast was the famous Gale Griffin of the Lionheart Kingdom. It couldn’t fly because it had to care for the convoy, but its overwhelming presence was enough to scare off low-level magical beasts lurking in the woods, ensuring our journey was safe.

The Gale Griffin was incredibly fierce and impressive; it wasn’t even afraid of dragons. Eighteen years ago, it shone brightly during the “War of the Raging Flames,” becoming a symbol of honor for the kingdom’s nobility.

Karl was one of the few nobles who owned a Griffin.

To be honest, Roy was more envious of Karl’s flashy mount than of his status or honors. After all, those would eventually come to him, but that proud Griffin would only acknowledge one master for its entire life. Thus, people often said, “Nobility represents titles; Griffins represent knights.”

Sadly, during their stay, Roy teased the Griffin several times, but unless Karl or his maid fed it, that thing wouldn’t eat or drink—talk about being full of itself!

At first, Roy was excited by the lush greenery of the kingdom. The carriage had a superb magical formation carved into it, and the cushion was made from luxurious fabric, so it felt smooth, like sightseeing rather than traveling.

But after a while, Roy quickly lost interest in the monotonous mountains and trees, with no tourist spots or delicious food in sight.

All in all, a week of this wasn’t too bad.

On the morning of the eighth day, before the dawn had even arrived, the convoy set off in the faint early light.

Roy was yawning, feeling tired of the endless lush greenery, when suddenly he heard a booming sound in the distance. He looked up and was shocked.

It was a towering volcano rising into the clouds.

Beneath lead-gray storm clouds, crimson lightning erupted from the crest of the mountain, as if it was a gateway to hell. Periodically, there were deep rumblings, like the snores of some prehistoric behemoth, making his scalp tingle.

This scene was a stark contrast to the peaceful forest, vast and magnificent, yet instilling a sense of dread and awe for nature’s craftsmanship.

“Father, is that the Doom Volcano?”

Covering his nose to avoid the thick, pungent smell of sulfur, Roy instinctively asked.

Even though he’d read about it in books, seeing it in person was simply breathtaking.

“Indeed, that’s where the ‘War of the Raging Flames’ took place eighteen years ago, where we ended the ‘Second Dragon War.’”

Karl gazed into the distance at the nearly sky-piercing volcano, his eyes distant. A mix of hatred, sorrow, nostalgia, excitement, and pride flickered across his face, ultimately blending into a complex emotion that Roy found hard to decipher.

“Back then, we eleven knights, led by Robert, charged up the mountain to confront that beast.”

“Countless extraordinary warriors and a massive army suffered half of their casualties from a single breath.”

“I still can’t forget how terrifying that draconic flame was, piercing the clouds as if it would burn the very heavens themselves. Even the brave Griffin shuddered in fear. Just one breath felt like my lungs would catch fire; it was a monster no mere mortal could hope to defeat.”

At this point, Karl turned his gaze back from the volcano to Roy.

Talking about that war, it was impossible not to feel a pang in the heart, but for Karl, it was more about pride that would last forever.

“But you all still won in the end.”

Roy raised an eyebrow at Karl. “Man can slay gods—at least that’s what the books say.”

The dragon race, as a representative of the mythological beings of the First Era, was considered almost divine among the people of Veszyra.

Of course, “slaying gods” might be a bit exaggerated, but the merits of Karl and the others were undeniable.

The lessons from his past life still applied, which was why even though Roy couldn’t imagine the war’s brutality, he still admired Karl.

Without their contributions, there would be no peace in the kingdom today.

Roy’s subtle compliments made Karl feel a bit flattered, but he didn’t get carried away, quickly waving his hand in humility. “No, if I must say, I was just riding on Robert’s coattails.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Roy perked up, suddenly curious.

Hearing firsthand accounts from someone involved in the “Eleven Knights under the King” was far more persuasive than the half-baked documents in “Angel’s Wheel Dance” or those scant historical records.

Isn’t it way more fun to hear about glorious pasts from the participants than to read dry history books?

“Back then, we ultimately couldn’t stay with Robert until the end.” Karl sighed at this point.

“I know how the history books portray it—eleven knights persevered until the end, fighting alongside the young king through the flames.”

“In reality, all the knights, including myself, were already knocked to the ground. The army was on the brink of collapse, morale was at an all-time low, and many had already given up hope. The kingdom was just a step away from falling.”

“However, there was one person who didn’t give up, defying the raging flames of the volcano, charging forward.”

Roy had already guessed the name of that person and continued, “It was His Majesty the King?”

“Exactly. Robert Reinhardt was the bravest warrior I’ve ever seen.” Karl said this with evident admiration.

“He always led from the front on the battlefield, laughing like a madman regardless of how badly he was injured, fighting with no intention of retreat. He was the genuine Lionheart King; many dragons feared him and wouldn’t dare confront him directly.”

“In fact, according to Robert, the fire dragon had also reached its limit. It was thanks to Robert’s desperate strike that the beast was ultimately slain, buried beneath the Doom Volcano.”

Listening to Karl’s recounting, Roy painted a picture in his mind: the young king riding his golden-red Gale Griffin, defying the inferno of dragon flames, roaring as he battled the fire dragon to the edge of the sky.

His blood was boiling with excitement.

Of course, if it came down to him fighting dragons, he’d rather pass—admiration is one thing, but living to see another day is much better!

Karl’s assessment of Robert matched precisely what Roy read in history books.

The “Lionheart King,” “the Brave,” “the Crimson Flame Dancing on Dragons’ Backs”—Robert was indeed a living legend, the true hero who saved the entire kingdom, revered even more than the founding king in the hearts of the people.

Thank goodness he hadn’t crossed paths with Charlotte like that “bad boy Roy” did, or not to mention Charlotte herself, even her fierce dad could have killed him a hundred times over.

But on the flip side, considering his friendly relationship with Charlotte now, and Karl’s deep friendship with Robert, he could round this out—such an impressive figure could really become his backing!

Roy secretly rejoiced, while also casually mocking the “bad boy Roy” for being a fool. It’s no wonder he got involved with a Cult instead of properly throwing support behind someone as powerful as Robert—he must have lost his marbles!

When Karl’s story came to an end, the convoy had crossed the volcano, and in the distance, one corner of Lionheart City was dimly visible.

But what puzzled Roy was that halfway through, the convoy was heading in the opposite direction of the royal capital.

“Aren’t we going to the royal capital?”

Facing Roy’s puzzled gaze, Karl smiled mysteriously. “Hold on, I’ve prepared a surprise for you.”