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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Teottry
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“What…?” Everyone looked bewildered. Bewilderment quickly turned to anger.
“Are you mocking me?” Even Baron Debussy, who had maintained his composure until now, raised his voice, his face flushed.
“I assure you, I’m quite serious.”
The Baron’s daughter, insulted, scowled.
She wasn’t exceptionally ugly. As a noblewoman, her refined upbringing alone placed her above the average woman of this era.
The problem was that she paled in comparison to the women around me.
Even Adelia, several years her senior, possessed a beauty that rivaled a woman in her twenties.
‘Well… that’s just an excuse.’
The real problems were different. The first was foundation.
Despite not having grown up in the royal court and building connections like the other nobles sons, I wasn’t treated as an outsider. That was thanks to my father, who had been Baron Rasino’s right-hand man.
Without my father, I wouldn’t have been appointed commander in the first war.
I lacked such a foundation in Baron Debussy’s territory. In other words, even if I defected, I would be nothing more than the Baron’s subordinate.
‘He’s a shrewd one.’ Baron Debussy must have considered this when he made his offer.
The second problem was Baron Debussy’s brother, Djak.
He coveted the title of Baron and had clashed with Powell Osborne. He wouldn’t welcome my presence.
And because of the first problem, my influence would be diminished, making me an easy target for him.
Accepting the Baron’s offer would be a step backward, not forward.
While it seemed like a beneficial offer on the surface, it was rotten to the core. A poisoned chalice.
“Because of mere beauty? Ha. Now I see how young you truly are. Let me offer you some advice, as someone twice your age. What truly matters is lineage.”
Noble marriages were often based on lineage, not appearance. In that respect, I was an anomaly.
“Beauty is more important to me.”
The Baron took my words as an insult. His face flushed crimson as he stood up abruptly, pointing at me.
“Fool! You refuse a toast and choose to drink poison instead!”
The vassals, who had momentarily retreated, surrounded me again, their swords glinting menacingly in the candlelight.
While there was only one knight among them, all the vassals were trained in swordsmanship, making them a considerable threat.
However, their newfound confidence, compared to their previous hesitation, seemed suspicious. Both the Baron and his vassals seemed to be up to something.
I focused on the few candles that illuminated the vast hall. The corners of the room were shrouded in darkness.
Just then, a sliver of moonlight, filtering through a gap in the closed window, illuminated something sharp and pointed in the darkness.
‘An arrowhead?’ I instinctively thought of Baron Debussy’s famed crossbowmen. A few of them had resisted when I arrived in Phalanx.
The cunning Baron had lured me into a trap.
One knight, five other warriors of comparable skill, and a few crossbowmen lying in wait. It was a situation that would have been insurmountable for an ordinary person.
“Let’s end this pointless debate. I have no intention of sparing your lives.”
I smirked, and the Baron and his vassals, exchanging glances, smirked back, confident in their hidden crossbowmen.
Baron Debussy’s expression hardened as he pointed at me and shouted,
“You’re the one who’s going to die! Kill him!”
Despite the Baron’s command, his vassals were cautious. Perhaps they had learned from their comrade’s death. They didn’t engage me directly, waiting for an opening.
“Where’s the one who was going to take my head?”
“You don’t have to rush. You’re destined to die here today!”
“You’ll be floating face down in the water soon enough.”
“You bastard…!”
“If you won’t come to me, I’ll come to you.” I adjusted my grip on the Trolls Blade and raised it high above my head, just as I had when I cleaved their comrade in two. A classic overhead strike.
The air crackled, and the knight facing me paled.
He didn’t dare to block the blow and rolled to the side. But he didn’t simply dodge.
“Now!”
-Thwang! A crossbow bolt whizzed through the space he had vacated.
The arrowhead rapidly approached. The Baron and his vassals smiled, their trap seemingly successful.
However, in my slowed perception, I saw it all.
I grabbed the sword of another vassal, who instinctively tried to resist. It was a mistake.
He should have dropped his sword. He might have survived if he had.
As I tightened my grip, the vassal was pulled forward, his sword ripped from his grasp. He tried to release it, but the arrow was faster.
“Gasp…” The bolt pierced him instead of me. He stared down at the arrowhead protruding from his chest, his face shown disbelief, then collapsed.
“Duncan!! You bastard!” I tossed Duncan aside like trash and turned back to the Baron and his vassals. The crossbowman who had fired the bolt was still hidden in the shadows.
“Didn’t Sir Powell tell you? Arrows are useless against me.”
“Don’t listen to him! He’s lying! How can a man dodge an arrow he can’t even see?! Fire again! Quickly!”
-Thwang! Thwang! Thwang! Three more crossbow bolts whizzed through the air.
There were two more crossbowmen besides the one I had spotted.
I had anticipated this. I lowered my stance and charged into the group of vassals, dodging the bolts as I swung my sword.
“N-No!” The knight who had rolled to the ground to create an opening for the crossbowmen hadn’t yet recovered.
He hastily raised his sword horizontally in a half-swording stance, attempting to block my blow.
His movements were fluid and precise, suggesting he had trained for this specific scenario. And fast.
But he would soon regret it, remembering the fate of his comrade who had tried to block my sword.
I granted him the same fate. I shattered his sword and cleaved his torso in two.
-Bang! The Trolls Blade, still carrying momentum, carved a deep gash into the stone floor.
I immediately moved on to my next target. Even with a loading mechanism, reloading a crossbow took time. I couldn’t afford to waste this opportunity.
“No! Spare me!” The terrified vassal turned to flee, unaware that it was the worst possible course of action.
The Trolls Blade carved a deep furrow in his back. There was no way he could survive that.
“Gah…” I left the bleeding vassal to die and spun around, swinging my sword in a wide arc.
Two swords, aimed at my back while I was dealing with the fleeing vassal, clattered to the ground, sparks flying.
“Agh!” The two vassals, unable to withstand the force, dropped their swords.
I plunged my sword into the chest of one as he tried to retreat. I kicked the other, sending him sprawling, then stomped on his head, crushing his skull.
-Thwang! More crossbow bolts flew through the air. The crossbowmen had reloaded.
Having anticipated their attack, I dodged the three bolts with a single step.
At the same time, I threw the sword of the dead vassal. The remaining vassal had just opened the door, attempting to escape.
The thrown sword pierced him through the door, pinning him like a skewer. The three remaining crossbowmen quickly followed. Only the Baron and his daughter remained.
“W-Wait! I’ll do as you say! I’ll give up everything and leave!” Baron Debussy, finally grasping the reality of the situation, agreed to my terms.
“I never intended to spare you in the first place.”
“What? You bast-” The Trolls Blade cleaved through Baron Debussy’s skull. He collapsed without a scream. Only his daughter remained.
She had fled to a corner of the hall, cowering and trembling. Our eyes met, and she froze, a yellow puddle forming beneath her.
“P-Please spare me… please…”
“I will, if you promise to obey my commands.” The Baron’s daughter nodded frantically.
Objectively, the Baron’s daughter was a valuable asset. Marrying her would elevate a mere knight to the nobility.
None of the knights who arrived in response to the summons seemed to mind that she would be marrying into the family.
They arrived at the hall without suspicion, lured by the Baron’s daughter, who had greeted them and spoken of marriage. And they all died.
“Is this the last one?”
The Baron’s daughter, still cowering in the corner of the hall, nodded frantically.
Her gaze was fixed on the corpses strewn across the hall.
The knight who had been alive and breathing just moments ago now lay dead, his skull shattered, the mixture of blood and brain matter forming a pinkish hue.
“Y-Yes… I-It’s… the last… retch!” She barely managed to speak, then turned to the wall and vomited.
“Is that so…” Having dealt with the Baron’s family, I summoned Muel and Dreng. They arrived, bearing the marks of battle.
While I had been dealing with the knights, they had been killing the knights’ squires and disbanding the mercenaries.
“Sir Dreng, go to the estates of the dead knights. Eliminate any remaining resistance and seize control.”
“Yes, sir. Your command is my will.” Dreng saluted and left the hall.
“Sir Muel, announce the Baron’s death and proclaim his grandson as the new Baron.”
“Your command is my will.” Muel followed Dreng. Having eliminated the leaders of each faction, there would be no resistance.
Of course, that didn’t mean the problems were completely solved. There could be uprisings in the various estates, or conspiracies brewing among the mid-level officials.
If they allied themselves with the Baron’s brother, Djak, it could become a serious problem.
The bigger problem was that Count Dressten, having received Adelia’s message, would soon take action.
The lack of knights, due to my systematic elimination of both territories’ knights, was also a concern.
‘One problem after another.’ Still, things were proceeding according to plan. I would deal with each problem one at a time.
The Count would investigate before taking action, so there was still time. For now, stabilizing Baron Debussy’s territory was the priority.
To monitor and control any unrest, I needed the help of someone familiar with the internal affairs of the territory.
I had someone in mind. I called out to the Baron’s daughter, who was still vomiting in the corner of the hall.
“Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen Sir Zant.”
Zant was a knight who had been captured during the battle at the tower and later released after paying his ransom.
I remembered him as a valiant knight who had been my first duel opponent and had accepted his defeat gracefully.
He was a bit impetuous, but that was likely due to his youth. With experience, he would be a valuable asset.
The question was whether he would cooperate. I noted his absence among the knights who had responded to the summons.
“H-He returned his estate and broke his vassalage contract…”
There were countless wandering knights roaming the continent in search of knighthood. To abandon such a position, and even return his estate?
“Why?”
“The prevailing opinion among the vassals was that he was responsible for the previous defeat. They said his inexperience and his reckless decision to challenge you to a duel had set them on the wrong path, which greatly contributed to their loss…”
“Hmm, that duel didn’t significantly affect the outcome of the battle.” The duel had been a means to reduce the enemy’s knightly forces, but it hadn’t significantly impacted the outcome of the war.
If anyone was to blame, it was Powell Osborne, the commander. I chuckled.
“Sir Powell didn’t protect him.”
“How do you know?”
“No, Sir Powell likely orchestrated it.” In my previous life, Powell Osborne often shifted the blame for his failures onto others to avoid showing weakness to his powerful rival, his uncle. It seemed he had done the same this time.
I left the stunned Baron’s daughter and pondered the situation. A knight stripped of his title and estate for unjust reasons would surely harbor resentment towards the Baron.
“I can use him.” The situation was even better than I had anticipated. I left Muel in charge of watching over the Baron’s daughter and grandson, and decided to find Zant myself.
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“What kind of man was Baron Debussy?”
“He was a good man. But why do you ask?” Max, the middle-aged man I had hired as a guide, eyed me suspiciously.
“Don’t be so wary. I heard there are many vacancies due to the war, so I was wondering if there might be a place for me.”
“Hmm…” Max frowned, looking at me with pity. He kept opening and closing his mouth, as if about to speak.
I offered him a pouch of dried fruit, and his mouth finally opened.
“It’s not my place to say, but it’s not a good place to be. He abandoned the city and tried to flee during the monster outbreak. That’s why his old wounds reopened, and he’s now on his deathbed! It’s divine retribution.”
“The monster outbreak must have been severe for the lord to flee.”
“What else could he do? I thought we were all going to die when that troll breached the walls. But then! The Giant Slayer appeared.” Hearing about my exploits from others was embarrassing. I pretended not to listen and subtly probed him.
“I heard he’s a devil…”
“Hmph, what does it matter if he’s a devil if he saved our lives?”
“The priest wouldn’t like to hear that.”
“That priest was the first to flee. Ha! He’s always preaching, but when we needed him most, he didn’t even look back.” Max chuckled and continued his passionate rant.
“That knight they call a devil is more like a saint. To save the very enemy he fought against multiple times? I would have left them to die.”
Max’s sentiment wasn’t unique. Everyone I encountered in the territory seemed to have a favorable opinion of me.
I had saved not only Phalanx, the capital, but also Melbourne, the second largest city, which had earned me their favor.
This confirmed my belief that I could seize control of Baron Debussy’s territory if I managed the mid-level officials properly.
The problem was the whereabouts of one of the two key figures I needed.
“Sir Zant left?”
“Y-Yes, sir. I heard he said something about finding a new lord…” The village head of Entre bowed deeply. I placed a silver coin in his hand and asked,
“Did he say where he was going?”
“He said he was going to Polton.”
Our paths had diverged. Fortunately, Entre was in the south, close to Polton.
I turned my horse around. I had originally planned to recruit Zant and then head to Polton. The other key figure I needed was there, wasting his time.
He was one of the few people I could trust, and yet he was idling away, like a beast in its pen.
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Meanwhile, in the inner castle of Polton, Janbolt, emboldened by his powerful backing, sneezed loudly.
“Achoo! Is someone talking about me?”
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Let’s ask our old friend!
