Chapter 527.1: Faint Sensation (1)
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Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End Chapter 527.1: Faint Sensation (1)

It had been many months since Roel Ascart last stepped onto the soil of the Ascart Fiefdom. The nearby mountains were cloaked in a layer of frost, and a chilling wind dyed the world silver.

In contrast to the lively spring scenery he departed from, the Ascart Fiefdom that he returned to felt serene. Riding on horseback, he immersed himself in the beauty of nature as a feeling of peace and satisfaction welled in his heart.

It was never easy to verbalize the emotions evoked by home.

Roel didn’t think that the Ascart Fiefdom was prosperous or bustling; the nearby Rosa City was way ahead of it. It was not the safest place in the world either; that would be Holy Capital Loren, where the pope and the church dwelled. It was not even the place he was the most familiar with, as he couldn’t recognize all the major streets.

Even so, he always found himself missing this land whenever he had been away for a while.

This was the place he had grown up in. It was filled with memories of the time he had spent together with his family members. This place calmed his uneasy heart.

As for his feeling of satisfaction, it stemmed from the sight of prosperity arising from the Ascart Fiefdom’s recent years of swift development.

The Ascart Fiefdom used to feel desolate during wintertime. Those who were already having a tough time surviving struggled to keep warm and find food during this cold season. But over the past few years of development, the situation had completely changed for the southern region of the Ascart Fiefdom.

Tattered huts susceptible to drafts had been insulated with warmer wood and stone houses. There was ample food and firewood to go around, evident from the trails of black smoke rising from the villages along the way. Hunters could even be spotted every now and then.

Without a doubt, life for the common populace had improved drastically. These improvements translated into reputation and prestige for Roel.

He was warmly welcomed each time their convoy stopped by a village to stock up, in sharp contrast to the careful atti

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ℭ𝔥𝔢𝔠𝔨 𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩𝔰:
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