Chapter 207: Act 141 – Hope in Gentle Words (3)
“Lord, the other party has left the castle. Why don’t we just get rid of them—”
The man lowered his voice, “Even if he’s a viscount, his family surely can’t reach this far into the south. If I’m not mistaken, that guy is from Baltar, and that’s at the kingdom’s northern border.”
“Fool!”
Baron Grudin was furious, yet his mind remained clear. He couldn’t help cursing, then coldly huffed, “Who should we send? That guy has at least golden-level strength. Didn’t you hear what that skeleton said? The red-haired woman beside him probably has the same level of strength. Are you trying to create more trouble for me?”
“Baron, it was my oversight.”
“Then let’s seal the city gates and keep them here,” another male favorite cautiously suggested.
Grudin took a deep breath and kicked the guy out, cursing, “Are you an idiot? Who can keep them trapped? Should I send you?”
The male favorite cried out but quickly scrambled to his feet, his face pale and shaking his head. He didn’t know what golden-level strength was, but he understood that going was tantamount to seeking death.
“Then let’s ask those skeletons to take action; didn’t they sign a pact with us?” The male favorite beside Grudin glanced at his companion with glee and answered submissively.
But Baron Grudin coldly shook his head, disdainfully saying, “They? They won’t take action. Madara just signed an agreement with Erluin; they won’t offend another noble family at this time. Though I don’t know what that commander is doing here, I suppose he doesn’t want to leave just yet.”
He had one more thought he didn’t voice; in fact, both sides were merely using each other. This clandestine alliance would have no overt communication, but Rendener could use the presence of the Madara army to suppress the Southern army of the kingdom and further solidify his power.
That was the real meaning of this pact.
Of course, he deemed such talk unnecessary with a male favorite. He turned his neck and touched the wound on his cheek, answering with a hint of bitterness, “But this matter won’t end so easily; I must teach that guy a lesson. My father might not agree to go to war with another family, but I’ll see how Longstein’s viscount can protect his people—”
He sneered and immediately said, “Bring me paper and pen; I’ll write to the Lord Earl.”
“Yes, Baron.”
The male favorite beside him immediately bent his head in subservience, preparing to carry out the order. Just then, the study’s door silently opened, and a figure slipped in like a shadow, then spoke in a low voice:
“My lord, the matter with Kelly has been handled. I just received news from their carrier pigeon—”
Grudin paused slightly, recalling this matter. He nodded immediately and gritted his teeth, “Perfect. Deliver that thing along with the letter to my father; he surely won’t refuse my small request.”
He turned back, only to see the figure still standing still, and couldn’t help asking, “Is there anything else?”
“My lord, the situation in the city seems a bit unstable. I’m worried about those mercenaries…” the figure replied quietly.
“Don’t worry about them. Though those skeletons from Madara won’t help me deal with that damned viscount, they won’t allow those rioters to turn against me. I understand that better than you,” Grudin waved his hand. “Go on; if those mercenaries don’t behave, I’ll teach them how to listen—”
The figure nodded then silently retreated.
On the other hand, although Antinna wished for the remainder of the day to pass by peacefully, some things in this world are not governed by human will. This noble lady from Bruglas never expected that the events would unfold in a way far beyond her expectations right from the start.
After clashing with the local lord, they could no longer stay in Firburh. Although Brendel wasn’t afraid of Grudin’s retaliation, he still had to consider the potential ambush from Madara since they had already clashed in Ridenburg, and later targeted again in Bruglas. Who knows, they might still be on Instalung’s assassination list.
Cabais might restrain himself because of Longstein’s identity, but that identity was merely an illusion that could be hidden temporarily but not forever.
Leaving Toniger as soon as possible became the wisest choice.
However, their group had only left the city for three hours when they unexpectedly ran into a cavalry from Grudin’s men—
…
Kelly the Warlord was equally surprised. This cavalry captain, with a face as fierce as a hyena, was astonished at his luck. His eyes gleamed greedily as he looked at several women in the group. Seeing Martha among them, he had never encountered such outstanding women in this region.
Even the few available in the territory were the lord’s women, whom he dared not imagine for himself. The rest were either pale, emaciated commoners or simply prostitutes from taverns.
He had never seen anyone with both such temperament and beauty.
Warlord Kelly couldn’t help rubbing his eyes, nearly thinking he was dreaming. He imagined how beneficial it would be to present such a group of women to the lord, and certainly, keeping one for himself wouldn’t be impossible. He subconsciously licked his lips, his gaze sweeping over the group blocking the road—just a band of mercenaries, after all. He wasn’t new to dealing with such people; the lord’s previous woman was just a little mercenary captain’s sister.
Were those incapable of recognizing the situation not also his targets to teach a lesson?
Kelly subtly calculated their heads, only a dozen or so. Although they had some troublesome capabilities in the black iron tier, they were trivial compared to his hundred-odd men. He couldn’t help but confirm this was a grand gift from heaven.
His hand had already quietly fallen on his hammer’s handle, his gaze finally resting on the young man at the forefront of the group.
A young man?
He looked like a minor noble.
Traveling noble offspring; Kelly confirmed the young man’s identity to himself. Such people were not uncommon in Vaunte, but anyone who made a point of rushing to Toniger’s desolate place usually carried a naive mindset.
Did this fellow really think he could run wild just because he had a noble title? The cavalry captain couldn’t help but sneer, licking his lips, before asking:
“What are you all?”
His hand remained on his weapon, his voice reminiscent of a creaky bellows, making a deep impression. “Don’t you know where this is? So many of you violating the decree while armed; are you—”
He intended to say “bandits roaming the wild,” but the rest of his sentence quickly faltered as he saw the young man look at him with strange eyes, as if he were looking at a fool.
“You came from Viridien Village, right?” Brendel asked as if he hadn’t heard Kelly’s question.
Kelly was momentarily stunned, then quickly reacted.
“You bastard! Who do you think you’re talking to? Do you know who we are? We are Grudin’s law enforcement cavalry. Right now, I suspect you are a band of robbers, lay down your weapons and surrender at once!” he snarled fiercely. “Otherwise, when I give the order, there won’t be time for you to regret it!”
“So?” Brendel asked.
“So what?” Warlord Kelly didn’t catch the suppressed killing intent in Brendel’s tone, or rather, he simply couldn’t imagine that a group of mercenaries at the black iron upper tier would dare to resist him. After all, he had over a hundred cavalrymen behind him—not the crummy group from the legion, but rather bloodthirsty individuals carefully selected from mercenaries.
He smugly replied, “But now I’m giving you a chance for redemption,” and with his left hand motioned to separate the mercenaries, “The women stay; the rest should simply roll away.”
Antinna, standing behind Brendel, did not feel a trace of anger at his words. On the contrary, she had grown accustomed to the arrogance of these noble private soldiers. Yet she sighed inwardly.
Did this guy not realize he was charging headfirst into a gun barrel?
The maiden couldn’t help but glance at Brendel.
The suppressed fury within the young man since leaving the baron’s castle finally burst forth at this moment.
His right hand withdrew from the scabbard, then tilted his head and said clearly, “I remember you just asked me who I am, right?”
Warlord Kelly was stunned again, thinking this guy must be out of his mind. Nevertheless, the ‘battle-hardened’ noble cavalry captain tightened his grip on his hammer instinctively, feeling something was amiss.
“Mister Cavalry, do you happen to know a story?”
“A story?”
“The Story of the Dim-witted and the Unhappy.”
This time, it wasn’t just Kelly; even Antinna, Husher, and others were astonished. The well-known bedtime stories circulating in Vaunte were just a few, but they had never heard of one called the ‘Dim-witted and Unhappy.’
What kind of name was that?
While they were surprised, Warlord Kelly felt like his lungs were about to burst with anger. He subconsciously thought he was being played and couldn’t help but retort fiercely, “Sorry, I haven’t heard that story, and I’m not interested in such childish nonsense.” He gritted his teeth, “Don’t think you can stall for time with this; I’ll count to three, and this is your last chance—”
He turned his horse’s head and shouted, “One!”
But Brendel shook his head. “No need to count.”
He then raised his head, “What I want to say is, my name is Unhappy—”
He raised his hand, and almost everyone only saw a shadow flash by, followed by the crisp sound of a bone snapping.
The cavalry captain’s neck was broken, preserving his last moment of astonishment, before he crashed to the ground—
…
(PS: Facing the Dim-witted, I’m also quite Unhappy, Unhappy, thoughts can’t connect. If I were some trolls, not only would I not watch the official version, but I wouldn’t even look at pirated posts. Watching while hurling abuse, how tsundere.) (To be continued. For more of the story, please log in, more chapters await, support the author, support official reading!)
