Chapter 324: Act 91 – The Gathering Storm (End) (First Update)
Count Rendener laid the report he had been holding gently aside on the mantle of the fireplace. This seasoned old nobleman was unusually silent. After a while, he lifted his head, his expression dark as he looked at his trusted assistant:
“Both myself and my subordinates are useless; how long ago was this report?”
“Half a month ago.”
“It’s been half a month, and Duke Toniger has stirred up such a great trouble.”
“My Lord, this may not be a riot.” The Count’s assistant said: “Even Sir Minate would not be easily defeated by a rabble.”
“The other side consists of mercenaries. However, mercenaries are like bothersome flies; they won’t swarm without the stench of benefits—” Count Rendener replied: “Someone is pulling the strings behind this.”
Although the report mentioned that Grudin had offended those mercenaries, the old nobleman knew these people too well; without sufficient conditions, they wouldn’t easily oppose a local power lord.
They wouldn’t fail to consider that Grudin had his own backing.
Count Rendener became calm and tapped the emerald ring on his right index finger. Those who knew him understood that this typically indicated the Count was deep in thought, and when he was thinking, he could not be disturbed.
Seeing this, his assistant also consciously closed his mouth, waiting for the decision.
“I care about two things,” the elderly Count replied after a long consideration: “First, is Grudin dead or alive? Second, who is the person behind this?”
The assistant humbly lowered his head and assumed a listening posture, knowing that the important figure had not finished speaking.
Just at that moment, the door was thrust open with a ‘creak,’ interrupting Count Rendener’s words, as a tall young man hurried in from outside.
“Father.”
The young man’s voice came in faster than he did, strong and assertive.
Count Rendener closed his mouth and looked—rather, glared—at the newcomer, answering coldly: “How many times have I told you to knock before you enter?”
“Those who accomplish great things do not sweat the small stuff. Isn’t that what you told me, Father?”
The youth strode confidently to his father’s side. This young man was Count Rendener’s second son—also the only one of his age who had not been granted a fief; he voluntarily gave up his fiefdom to stay by Count Rendener’s side.
Count Rendener was certainly aware of his son’s intentions, but he didn’t mind, merely saying: “It seems you are informed?”
The urgent news had stirred the entire Pedalson Fortress; he did not find it strange that his son arrived so quickly. If he hadn’t known, that would imply a lack of vigilance on his part.
“Um, has something happened?” The youth surveyed his surroundings, then casually slumped down on a nearby sofa, looking up and asking.
“Your brother is in trouble.”
“Really?”
Count Rendener raised an eyebrow, somewhat irritated as he said: “It sounds like you’re pleased that your own brother is in trouble?”
“Sorry, Father,” the young man picked up a nearby cup, immediately laughing as he set it back down: “I know this isn’t right, but I can’t help it; I won’t conceal my emotions.”
The smile on his face was evident, and clearly, Count Rendener’s prediction had been accurate.
The old Count shook his head. Years ago, he too had been the same; however, to him, it was merely a minor issue. The struggle between families was one thing, but outsiders harming his descendant was another; among any nobles, this precedent must absolutely not be set.
There was even rarely bloodshed among nobles; schemes and violence were two different matters. Nobles’ blood was precious and could not be shed in vain.
Therefore, upon receiving this report, Count Rendener had indeed resolved to retaliate brutally to set an example.
However, he felt this matter wasn’t that simple; thus, he tapped the report and said: “A riot has occurred in Toniger, and your brother’s life or death is uncertain—”
He paused: “Though I suspect things do not look good.” Count Rendener coldly huffed, instructing his assistant to recount the current situation.
Sir Minate was defeated?
Hearing that his brother had possibly been killed by a mob, the young man couldn’t help but shake his head. To him, a noble dying in a riot was undeniably shameful, even he couldn’t help but feel his face flush with embarrassment.
Regardless, he was still his brother; having such a worthless member within their family was indeed difficult to hold their heads high before outsiders. However, upon hearing the news of Sir Minate’s devastating defeat, his expression completely changed.
This was no riot.
Although the youth was carefree, he was also perceptive. He immediately stood up and said to Count Rendener: “Father, there’s foul play behind this. Please allow me to gather the troops immediately—I will make those pulling the strings pay for it.”
Count Rendener looked at his son, somewhat disappointed as he shook his head.
“Do you know who’s behind this?”
The youth was taken aback, then said: “As long as the army is on the march, they will reveal their true colors.”
Not too foolish! The old Count’s expression softened a bit, but he still shook his head: “Though your reasoning is not bad, someone is waiting to watch us make a fool of ourselves. If you gather troops, won’t you be delivering the joke right into their hands—”
The youth furrowed his brow.
This aged nobleman tapped his forehead: “You must always think deeply. The sword in your hand can destroy your enemies but cannot lead you to victory; think again.”
“Of course, those who benefit are the ones with motives.” The young man replied.
“Correct,” Count Rendener nodded: “The kingdom is divided into three, but those most likely to do this are the princess’s faction. That cunning little girl is truly concerning; what they lack is time—do they think they can pressure me? They underestimating the Rendener family is quite foolish.”
“But it could also be that someone is sowing discord, Father.” The youth didn’t wish for his father to lean toward Anlek’s side; his plan was to have the princess draw himself to her side, ideally through marriage; with the princess’s support, his claim to the family heritage would be almost guaranteed.
Moreover, he had long heard tales of the half-elf princess’s beauty; the reputation of the most brilliant gem on the crown of this ancient kingdom was not just known in Erluin but had even spread to the neighboring Cruz Empire.
However, his ambitions did not escape the eyes of Count Rendener, who shot his son a cold glare: “Rest assured, I won’t become impulsive over this matter; I’ve surpassed your age.”
“Father?”
“You must remember one thing, Andrei,” Count Rendener said sternly: “It does not matter which side the Rendener family leans toward; what matters is that the Rendener must maintain or gain even more independent authority than now.”
The old man raised an eyebrow and his tone darkened: “If you cannot obtain much, do not think about too much. Determining your goals is very important. The greedy only brings disdain from others.”
The youth was taken aback, then shrugged: “I understand, but what should we do now?”
Count Rendener tapped the emerald on his right index finger and coldly replied: “That cunning little girl is playing tricks on me; the Rendener family must surely retaliate with tooth for tooth, blood for blood; she kills my son, I will take her pieces—let’s see how she plans to move next—”
“Then?” The youth became excited, patting the hilt of his sword.
“No, every matter carries risks and opportunities, it cannot be handled this way. If a small territory’s rebellion requires me to intervene personally, then the Rendener family would be lowering its dignity.” The old Count shook his head, filled with discontent for the young man’s eagerness: “Moreover, that cunning little girl and Duke Anlek are keeping a close watch on me; this is not the time to be underestimated.”
The youth scoffed, casually throwing his sword onto the sofa beside him: “I get it, Father. You have plans.”
His flippant gesture nearly caused the well-mannered Count Rendener to tremble with fury, but just as the old Count was about to reprimand him, the latter interrupted him.
“If we don’t act, that Parsons likely won’t stand against those rioters, Father,”
The young man rested his hands on the back of the sofa, comfortably leaning back, looking lazy: “That old knight may have a decent army, but his strength is still fairly limited compared to Sir Minate. If Sir Minate suffered a crushing defeat, this knight also wouldn’t win, would he?”
Count Rendener nodded with a grim face. Although he disapproved of his son’s demeanor, it must be said that this second son was the most outstanding among his offspring; the others, although not akin to Grudin in being utterly useless, were still merely mediocre.
“Let me think,” the young man said: “Surely, you don’t mean to let those skeletons of Madara get involved? They have that capability, but on one hand, they are not of our kin. That honest old knight Parsons likely wouldn’t be able to control them either.”
“In other words, Father, do you really trust them? That grinning Instalung? I heard that fellow is just a knight in Madara—”
“Why not?” Count Rendener said in a low voice, then turned away from his son and spoke to his assistant standing by: “Draft me two letters—”
“Count?” The assistant looked up.
“The first letter is to the dark nobles of Madara, telling them that what they desire is still in Firburh, and if they want to complete that deal with me, they need to lend their assistance.” Count Rendener commanded coldly.
“The second letter should be delivered to that mountain dweller’s messenger. Don’t they want tax exemptions? Tell them that if they are willing to participate in this war, I will not only exempt their taxes but also provide food for the armies they send!” (To be continued. For more details on what happens next, please log in for more chapters and support the author, support legitimate reading!)
