Free Web NovelChapter 233: The Stomp of a Victor
I had no idea where Fried had learned to apply pressure like that, but he aged the Count of Basel’s face by a decade. Scrawling his signature, the count officially surrendered to the Western Lords’ Army.
"A wise decision. We’ll dispatch a messenger immediately to relay the surrender."
"You are an exceedingly fortunate man, young lord. I’ll be watching to see how long that luck holds."
"Did you know, Count? Your greatest mistake was making an enemy of the lord of Feuzen."
The Count of Basel turned his gaze toward me—I had sat silently through the negotiations. It was true that I had ruined all of his plans. If he hadn’t attacked Feuzen, things might have been different, but this was how it ended.
"I see now that His Highness the Crown Prince has a capable noble at his side."
"You’re acknowledging His Highness? I thought you’d deny him to the very end."
"I have been defeated. I have no desire to disgrace myself further."
The ducal forces had claimed the crown prince was illegitimate and championed Prince Louis as the rightful heir of Altringen. So after the war ended, even more treaty documents would be piled on the Count of Basel.
"Reparations will be determined after the war, but what of my ransom?"
"You’ll negotiate that with the lord of Feuzen."
Viktor had made the capture, but a subordinate’s achievement belonged to his lord, so officially, I was credited. I just needed to reward Viktor appropriately for the dedication and sacrifice he’d shown.
"...Basel will never forget this."
"Before that, you should worry about Basel itself. It’s been laid to waste."
Fried handed the surrender document to an attendant and ordered it sealed with the utmost care. It would be sent to the crown prince. A copy would be dispatched in case the original was lost.
Naturally, the Count of Basel had to sign one more time.
"Underestimating the Gale Knight was the greatest blunder of my life. I thought the Executioner of Zurse would have been more than capable of stopping any raiding force!"
He admitted with bitter self-reproach that he’d lost because he hadn’t factored me into his plans. That included his blind faith in the abilities of the strongest Swiss mercenary, hired at great expense.
"You said Basel would never forget? Feuzen won’t forget either."
"How much do you want for my ransom? I’m afraid I won’t be able to pay generously, given the reparations."
The grand duke would extract enormous reparations from the lords who had sided with the rebels. And he’d use those funds to rebuild the devastated regions. With Beren weakened, there would be no shortage of places where the money was needed.
"I have no intention of negotiating right away either. Let’s settle it after the southern rebels have fully surrendered. Until then, I’m afraid you’ll have to remain confined, uncomfortable as it may be."
"I was prepared for that. However, allow me to send letters to my family." freewёbnoνel.com
"I can grant you that much."
After the Count of Basel and his men were sent back to the cells, only Baron Hildrant remained. Unlike when dealing with the count, Fried’s expression turned vicious.
An ally’s rebellion was always more infuriating than an invading enemy.
"So, how does it feel to have rebelled? O ancient vassal house of Hildrant."
"...I ask that you treat me with the courtesy due a surrendered noble."
"Surrender? Bullshit! You’re a prisoner who was caught running away!"
Wham!
"Gaaah!"
Fried sprang to his feet, and his kick sent Baron Hildrant toppling backward. Then he stomped on him repeatedly, venting his fury. If General Bertrand hadn’t intervened, he might have stomped him to death.
During my time in Euz, the conflict between Fried and the Euz nobles had been so severe that a rebellion could have broken out at any moment. Now that Fried had finally won, nothing but ruin awaited them.
"Courtesy befitting a noble? You’re not an honorable noble. You’re garbage!"
"Ngh... to a noble... such... such an insult... cough... will not be..."
Wham!
"If anyone won’t stand for it, drag them before me!"
After one last kick, Baron Hildrant was carried off to the field hospital. Fried’s temper was far from spent. He glared at the map of Euz with savage eyes and spoke to me. The atmosphere had turned downright deadly.
"Valent, Hildrant, Boeven! I’m authorizing the plundering of all three baronies."
Had I heard that right? Authorizing what? General Bertrand and the attendants alike were stunned. The general hurried to restrain Fried.
"Young master, please calm yourself..."
"Don’t try to stop me, Bertrand! My mind is made up!"
The resentment toward the Euz nobles, carved deep into his bones, wouldn’t let his fury subside. At this point, no one but Count Euz himself could talk Fried down.
"Sir Streit! I am not my father, who showed mercy to his vassals. Plunder and kill! Crush them so they never dare defy the Euznirks again! I authorize it!"
Fried stormed out of the tent. General Bertrand and the attendants scrambled after him. Benjamin and I stared at each other in disbelief. It was far too harsh a decree.
Authorizing another lord’s soldiers to plunder your own territory.
Was he determined to lay the baronies to waste?
The Euz levies would never be able to do such things to their own people, which was why he was giving permission to soldiers from other lands who wouldn’t hesitate to plunder a foreign domain. Benjamin sighed and spoke.
"The men will be delighted, but personally, I don’t care for plundering."
"Neither do I. Whatever else happens, let’s at least prevent any massacres."
"I’m truly relieved to find myself of the same mind as you, my lord. As one who reveres chivalry, killing the defenseless is something I could never bring myself to do. No matter the orders, no matter the reward."
Benjamin, with his justice (good) disposition, was a good man indeed.
But the problem was the escaped Baron Boeven.
"What if Baron Boeven resists?"
"If he surrenders, perhaps it can be managed. But if he resists, an example will have to be made. The heir of Euznirk seems to want a cruel, bloody revenge..."
"Hmm, you’re saying we single out Boeven as the sacrificial lamb?"
Controlled plundering alone wouldn’t be enough to soothe Fried’s heart. I wasn’t keen on it, but if Baron Boeven put up desperate resistance, his domain would suffer the same fate as Ladwig, trampled under mercenary boots.
The Belfort cavalry and Essenbach dragoons would be thrilled. They’d been held in check under my control. Minimizing war crimes was my belief, but what had been officially sanctioned was a different matter.
Word would reach the cavalrymen one way or another, and they’d inevitably demand their fair share. There was a limit to how much you could keep a lid on things. Above all, the war wasn’t over yet.
If it were the righteous Gale Knights, they’d follow my orders without question.
Ah, whether as a lord or a knight, governing people was never easy.
Fried was undoubtedly seizing this as a golden opportunity to extract massive reparations from Basel to rebuild Euz while simultaneously sweeping away the Euz nobles who had defied him all along.
Otherwise, he would never have ordered the plundering of the three most prominent baronies.
"You’ve truly accomplished something remarkable this time. We nearly had to flee ourselves."
"It’s all thanks to Viktor and the helpers who were hidden under the Count of Basel’s nose."
"How modest. The fact that they were able to play their part was ultimately because of your leadership, my lord."
He was generous with his praise. Why was the house of Marquis Offenburg so favorable toward me? Simply because I was the noble who had taken responsibility for Lily? I’d always been wary of goodwill that came without apparent reason.
His mindset rang true according to the scouter, and Benjamin was simply that kind of person, so I could accept that. But what were the true intentions of Marquis Offenburg, who had sent him? For now, I couldn’t read any hidden motive.
"Oh, Sir Knight!"
On my way back to my tent, someone called out to me. The only ones who called me "Sir Knight" instead of "my lord" were the Swiss mercenaries. They didn’t seem bound by formality in the slightest. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm
Gedel and Leto had free access to come and go within the camp. There were plenty of soldiers who harbored hostility toward the Swiss mercenaries, but the two didn’t care in the least. If anything, their attitude was, "Go ahead and pick a fight if you want."
And then you could regularly see most of those challengers getting laid out by Leto’s fists. Even thinking about it now, surviving against that outrageous monster was nothing short of a miracle.
Fiel and Anton had been injured trying desperately to shield me.
Fiel, in particular, had nearly lost his shoulder. Anton had helped absorb the impact, and the critical factor was that I’d driven the standard lance into Leto’s armpit, which had halved the force of the blow.
In the end, the men I relied on and trusted the most were all stuck in the hospital. It had been a brutal battle where I felt the full might of the Swiss mercenaries down to my bones. At least the end result was our victory.
"My friend says he’d like to give you a gift, Sir Knight."
A gift, out of nowhere?
What Leto held out to me was, of all things, a halberd.
