Departure

Norn sat in his study, carefully taking stock of his situation. He had been here for a few years, and without realizing it, he had amassed such a vast estate. He owned two manors, had over 600 workers and slaves, and maintained a force of 150 elite guards. The idea of moving all these people back home in one go was genuinely daunting.

Of course, he would take the slaves he had captured and those workers and soldiers who had signed long-term contracts. The real question was what to do with Sassan and her people, who had already been granted their freedom.

At this thought, even Norn, with his thick skin, felt a bit embarrassed. At the last banquet, he had held Sassan's hand and said something that bordered on a confession. Thank goodness he was still in a 13-year-old body. Everyone around him had just assumed it was child's play, at most a bit precocious. But it seemed that someone didn't see it that way.

Glancing at Sassan, who seemed a bit distracted, Norn sighed. "Sassan! Sassan!"

After being called twice, Sassan finally snapped back to reality. "What can I do for you, Lord Norn?" Her voice was as cold and calm as usual, but her eyes kept darting away, avoiding Norn's gaze.

"Sigh," Norn shook his head, then asked seriously, "Sassan, are you willing to leave your homeland and move with me to my distant northern territory?"

"Whatever my lord commands, I will follow," Sassan bowed her head deeply.

Seeing her like this, Norn felt a pang of guilt. "You don't have to force yourself," he said, looking at the now 15-year-old girl. Over these years, not only had he grown, but Sassan's delicate face had also matured, her features becoming bright and striking, with her sharp eyebrows adding a touch of fierceness.

"I don't understand, my lord," Sassan frowned slightly and finally looked up at Norn.

Thinking about how he had dragged this young girl through all sorts of dangers over the years, Norn felt even more guilty. After all, Sassan was in the prime of her youth, and it wouldn't be good if anything happened to her while following him around.

With a hint of regret, Norn said, "I could ask King Baldwin to let you and your people settle here."

"Is my lord planning to abandon us?" Sassan's head snapped up, her eyes filled with shock and hurt.

"No, it's just that..." Norn paused to gather his words, trying to soften the blow. "The journey involves both sailing and overland travel, and it's a long way to go."

"Moreover, people are often looked down upon when they leave their homeland. It's never easy to be accepted in a new place," Norn added, feeling a bit helpless. In his view, leaving one's homeland was an extremely painful thing.

"What kind of life do you think we had before?" Sassan's eyes sharpened as she stared intently at Norn's face, as if afraid to see anything other than confusion there.

"Our ancestors were originally soldiers fleeing from chaos, hiding in the mountains to escape the war. But the mountain soil was poor, and all our hard work barely provided us with enough to eat," Sassan's tone suddenly turned angry. "Even so, the tax collectors from the Emir still came to us, squeezing every last drop out of us."

"So our ancestors decided to take matters into their own hands and killed the tax collectors and the local Emir," Sassan took a deep breath and continued, "But instead of peace, we were met with the Sultan's army."

"To survive, we were forced to become the Sultan's hidden blades, but the rewards were still pitifully small. We had to take on other jobs just to make ends meet. Over time, the Hashashin became infamous, known, and feared by all."

For the first time, Norn saw a flicker of sadness in Sassan's eyes, though it was gone in an instant, he still caught it.

"The new Sultan was wary of us and cut off all contact, hoping we would just fade away. But 25 years ago, he suddenly ordered us to assassinate the Count of Tripoli."

Sassan's voice was filled with helplessness and sorrow. "The assassination was successful, but it led to our predecessors being attacked by the Templar forces, with countless casualties. The survivors were once again forced into submission, paying a high annual tribute."

If it weren't for Sassan herself recounting this history, who would have thought that the Hashashin, feared by so many, were just people trying to survive?

"As for what happened next, I suppose you already know," Sassan's tone of sadness gradually faded, becoming gentle as she recalled how, since coming to Norn's manor, her people no longer had to worry about whether the harvest would be enough to survive.

They worked hard but were well-fed and housed, earned good money after gaining their freedom, and even the children received an education. All of this was thanks to the person standing before her.

Norn, realizing the hardships this young girl had endured, felt a surge of compassion and stepped forward to hold Sassan's hand. Feeling the warmth in his palm and looking into Norn's gentle eyes, Sassan's heart began to race wildly.

"So, let me ask you one last time, are you and your people willing to go with me?"

"With pleasure!" Sassan gazed at Norn, nodding firmly.

"Then let's go home together!"

That being said, moving thousands of people was no easy task. Norn had no choice but to have the knights lead the groups back in batches. Considering the security issues along the way, he also had to hire over 500 mercenaries to escort them.

Moreover, since Norn had handed over the trade routes to the Genoese, it was inappropriate to rent Venetian ships on the way back. He had no choice but to seek help from the Genoese trade house manager.

Upon learning of Norn's request, the manager immediately assured him with a thump on the chest that there would be ships traveling between Acre and Genoa every month, and he would ensure enough space was reserved for Norn.

As the groups departed in batches, the once bustling manor gradually became quiet. Today was also the day Norn and Anna, among others, were to set off. But when Norn walked out of the manor gate, he found several noble lords waiting for him, led by none other than King Baldwin.

"Your Highness! Why are you here?" Norn quickly dismounted and bowed.

Baldwin slowly dismounted as well, walking up to Norn and saying, "You've done great service to the kingdom. Now that you've completed your pilgrimage and are returning to your lands, it's only right for me, as your king, to see you off properly."

"Here," Baldwin handed over a golden apple from one of his attendants.

Norn's hand sank with the weight—it was indeed a golden apple!

Seeing Norn's surprised expression, Baldwin's face, hidden behind his mask, broke into a smile. "I know you like money. Is this gift to your liking?"

"Satisfied! Very satisfied!" Norn nodded eagerly.

"Well then, take care on your journey," Baldwin mounted his horse again, waved to Norn, and watched as Norn's group slowly moved away, feeling a bit melancholic.

With the yellow sands stretching into the distance and his frail body bidding farewell, Baldwin knew that this parting would be their final meeting.

Thinking of Norn, such a pillar of talent, Baldwin felt a great sense of regret. He had tried his best to retain him, but fate had other plans.

As Baldwin was lost in his worries for the kingdom's future, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud shout.

"Baldwin!" Norn stood on top of his carriage, holding the golden apple high and shouting, "I'll guard your apple well!"

"Thank you, Norn. My friend," Baldwin smiled, responding silently in his heart.