In a courtyard behind the city lord manor, there was no noise, but the sound of saliva.
Locke was sitting at a stone table in the courtyard, enjoying the breakfast that his soldiers had just sent. It was very simple: just meat patties and porridge. It should have been brought from the kitchen of a tavern or a large family. Locke did not tell others the residence he had chosen, but the soldiers under him could still find it. This was the charm of power. There would always be people who wanted to flatter you.
Locke was naturally happy to accept this kind of flattering, and he was also hungry. Of course, he knew the thoughts of his soldiers. He had once been one of them. The time for the soldiers to plunder the city was limited to the day they broke the city. According to the rules, they co
