The son of the Duke of Fort Swallow was carried out of 111 Duron Street. He hadn’t sustained any particularly severe injuries. It was just some minor bruising on his muscles all over his body; he couldn’t get out of bed for a short while and needed someone to feed him when eating, that’s all. Jason said it wasn’t intentional. Who knew swinging the Wolf Fang Club would feel so exhilarating. It was as invigorating as wielding a knife. Equally satisfying and uplifting to one’s mood. “Want to learn a bit more about the combat techniques of the Wolf Fang Club?” However, when the lady returned, her expression had turned to anger. But this anger was not directed at outsiders. It was toward her own son, Barney Clark. As a mother, the lady knew her son’s character all too well. To say he was arrogant might be an overstatement. But not knowing good from bad, that was certainly true. And he was blind to the current situation. With ‘Fort Swallow’ as a backing, such behavior could be tolerated, slowly adjusted. ‘Fort Swallow’ was no more. Where could there be time for gradual adjustments? Yet seeing her son bandaged almost like a mummy, the harsh words the lady had couldn’t come out. Even her anger was almost gone. “You need to grow up quickly.” “We don’t have much time left.” Mrs. An Lu said this. “I don’t think it’s bad right now.” “I have never been interested in inheriting ‘Fort Swallow’.” “In fact, I prefer the situation as it is.” “We don’t have to engage in fratricide!” The son of the duke managed to tear a hole in the bandage wrapped around his face and said with difficulty. Undoubtedly, these words struck Mrs. An Lu. Subconsciously, the lady slapped her son hard. Mrs. An Lu was preparing to scold her son, but before the words could leave her mouth, she saw blood spurting out of the place where the son of the duke had just been poked by the scissors. Cries for the doctor immediately rang out through the small courtyard. In the afternoon, with no rest, Jason, re-energized after food, watched as Little Reed set up a sand table in front of him. This was the sand table from ‘Fort Swallow’ to Hans Port. It was filled with various small flags. There were also knight and infantry figurines. Naturally, this attracted Dennise. When Dennise stretched out a paw to pick up one of the knights, Jason raised his hand and slapped the paw. Jason said in a low voice. Dennise scratched her cheek and flashed an embarrassed smile. An undead girl who knew she had done wrong never talked back. If she was wrong, she’d apologize. If it happened again, she’d apologize again. But she never changed. Another ten minutes passed, and Little Reed had the sand table set up. “My lord, we have constructed a complete iron defense line from ‘Fort Swallow’ to Hans Port.” “As we discussed before, we will drag ‘Aymodun III’ into a war of attrition and then…” The personal servant said with full confidence. Jason didn’t understand much, just looking at the small flags and figurines on the sand table, feeling it was all cluttered. Dennise didn’t understand much either. Blinking her eyes, she asked: “What if ‘Aymodun III’ bypasses these defenses?” “Our navy is absolutely dominant!” “He can’t possibly bypass it!” “His troops can fly!” The personal servant explained to Dennise with a laugh. Facing the naïve questions of Dennise, Little Reed wouldn’t get angry but would patiently explain. A girl who doesn’t understand military affairs asking such a question is too normal. But coming from the sky?