Settlement

Even in my past life, I was never much of a fan of rain itself. I was always too damn busy just walking to worry about getting rained on too.

Still, if I didn't have to go outside, I didn't particularly hate it. It wasn't so much that I liked the sound of rain—it was more that when I was at home without a care in the world, I'd snicker to myself with a twisted sense of satisfaction, thinking about how the people outside were probably having a miserable time in the wet.

But I'd definitely always loved that earthy smell that rises unmistakably after the rain stops. Maybe it was because it stirred up memories from a clueless childhood, but it just made me feel refreshed.

"Unidentified attacker! You are surrounded! Surrender peacefully!"

Of course, right now there was no room to feel any of that, thanks to the stench of blood that was soaking everything around me.

Ignoring the ridiculous shouting coming from outside, I strolled leisurely through the eerily silent main hall of the mansion, speaking as I walked.

"I was thinking back on what the information broker told me and came to a conclusion. Most of these bastards are way below even Envelde's standards. Wouldn't he have prepared all the important tasks using only his own inner circle? What do you think, Wilson?"

Zikmel had said it. That Envelde managed his people so thoroughly he only ran his operations through his inner circle, and was incredibly secretive about it.

At first glance, that seemed like cultivating an elite force. But ultimately, there are limits to what a small number of people can do, and treason isn't something a small group like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that can even aspire ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to.

That was probably why Envelde had built up his power in the first place, but nonetheless, he kept what was truly important moving only within his own grasp.

And judging by the personality of the bastard who tried to win me over even to the very end after suffering those losses... weren't the rest who didn't fit in his hand practically just disposable pawns?

The severed head of Envelde I was holding in my hand, naturally, offered no answer at all.

"Right, I knew you'd understand, Wilson. As expected, having experience as Envelde's head makes you different from these bastards."

There was a reason for this act that made me look like a complete lunatic.

Just because it was quiet didn't mean there was no sign of anyone. It was hard to understand that there were people who wouldn't even spare their own lives for the conclusion of the incident that happened on the second floor, but it was an undeniable fact nonetheless.

People—I couldn't tell if they were combatants or non-combatants—were holding their breath and hiding their bodies as they saw fit, only rolling their eyeballs to stare at me, so I'd started spouting nonsense openly, as if I really were a madman.

But I was going to have to fight the bastards outside soon anyway, and I had no intention of hauling around those things that might stab me in the back at any moment.

"So, Wilson, you who understand speech, what do you think we should do about Envelde's minions who are hiding and watching us right now... Huh? Kill them all and set up Ega's Wilson Factory? Such an agreeable opinion I can hardly believe you were once Envelde's hat rack!"

"Hiiiiyaaak!"

"Th-that bastard is insane! Run away!"

Idiots. If they'd hidden quietly, it would've been safer to just quietly bolt, but they just had to scream.

Anyway, since the objective was achieved, I decided to stop the crazy act here and stepped out of the main hall. In the meantime, a dagger that someone had apparently dropped caught my eye, so I picked it up as I went, and soon, a crowd of people holding torches and arrayed in the darkness greeted me.

"Huh. You've gathered quite a crowd."

How many were there, exactly? Seeing that there were about five flags of different designs, did that mean five nobles had gathered? Since they'd come this far, it was certain they weren't sent by the royal family, and the maximum number of private soldiers for nobles residing in the capital was about fifteen to twenty, right? That meant they'd gathered roughly a hundred men.

"Bastard, nice trick."

So Envelde had five sycophants among the nobles living in the capital who could react this quickly from nearby and come running.

Honestly, it was surprising that they'd mustered at this level when it had barely even been thirty minutes since I'd raided Envelde's mansion.

"Co-Count Bosha!"

"You heinous bastard!"

I slowly racked my brain, watching the ones who seemed like they wanted to raise their voices come in and make noise among the bastards who were blocking the crumpled iron gate of the mansion and spreading outside.

They were clearly shouting at me, the intruder, but honestly, hadn't they been thinking I was already dead?

If they'd truly felt the situation was urgent, it wouldn't have been strange for them to immediately enter the mansion. But the sight of them leading that much force and guarding only the gate instead of entering... felt more like they were reacting just to the extent of not infringing on noble authority, since Envelde's mansion was still technically functioning.

Maybe, in their delusions, they'd imagined that if they shouted boldly like that, Envelde would emerge holding my severed head, be moved by their loyalty, and commend them.

Because otherwise, there was no way these bastards—who looked completely removed from combat, who'd turned pale at the sight of Envelde's head—would have boldly jumped out front like that to assert their presence.

If they'd recognized the situation as dangerous, they would've been hiding behind the private soldiers they'd brought.

"Who are you! Identify yourself!"

The bastard positioned in the center of them was the only one who showed a calm reaction as he raised his voice. A clearly different response from the others. However, even that bastard had shown considerable bewilderment at the sight of Envelde's head.

Then, maybe his goal in this situation was to pick up some scraps.

"I am Eldmia Ega."

The mansion was filled with nothing but silence apart from those bastards anyway, so there was no need to raise my voice. On the contrary, acting calm and composed would probably be more effective. I set Envelde's head down casually on the stone pedestal that decorated the left side of the mansion's main gate and continued speaking.

"I have no interest in who you are. The traitor Envelde is dead. If you have any objections to his death, I will consider you the same traitors."

"How dare you attempt to justify this unjust assault and murder by pinning the false charge of treason on Count Envelde da Bosha, a loyal subject of the kingdom! Before you spew such false sophistry, lay down your weapon quietly and surrender! And face the stern judgment of the law!"

Listening quietly, that was the same bastard who'd been shouting about surrender earlier.

"Are you saying you will defend Envelde's crimes?"

"How can I defend a crime that does not exist! I am merely trying to put you on the guillotine to honor the spirit of the wronged Count Bosha and to carry on his will to set the law right!"

An almost oratorical tone. Exaggerated gestures. And the way he took one more step forward and acted with bravado.

Anyway, I got the scent that since Envelde was already dead, he was trying to scrape up whatever was left.

"Disperse quietly. I will consider that you were unaware of Envelde's treason. The royal family will later clarify the truth of it, but now is certainly not that time. However, if you refuse, I will also consider you co-conspirators in the treason."

"Your arrogance pierces the heavens! Trying ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to escape crisis by wagging your three-inch tongue!"

The middle-aged, hairy bastard whose name I didn't know raised his voice even more and drew his sword.

"I already know you! Did you truly think I would not know that you are Eldmia Ega, the lawless criminal who follows around the Levien whore standing trial for treason!"

And then he began to massively cross the line.

"The world already knows that when his master fell into crisis due to Count Bosha's efforts to set the supreme law right, the mad dog finally failed to grasp the situation and bit a person! My ears will rot if I listen to any more of your bullshit! Who will stand with me, Groshan da Javish, to judge this heinously wicked criminal... ughk?!"

As he boldly turned his head to incite the private soldiers behind him, the dagger I threw lodged cleanly into his throat, cutting off his last words.

My assessment was complete. They were nobodies who didn't even properly know how the trial was proceeding, and that bastard was just a fox cub trying to become king in a forest with no lion.

In that case, action works faster than petty talk.

"The motherfucker was looking away."

Good thing I'd picked up that dagger. The ones who'd been staring blankly as Groshan or whatever his name was fumbled at his own throat and collapsed still hadn't grasped the situation as they looked at me.

"At-attack! Execute that bastard immediately!"

And then, one bastard who at least sensed the danger to his life fled backward and gave orders to his troops, and the other three, without waiting to see who went first, also fled backward and began shouting orders.

"Hey, Wilson. Did you really believe you could succeed in treason with bastards like these?"

Even granting that I couldn't sense aura and didn't know much about the ways of the noble world, wouldn't these bastards have known Envelde well enough?

And yet, they were attempting a blind charge toward the person who had annihilated Envelde and his mansion's fighting force?

And what was more, those so-called private soldiers were charging in with their eyes blazing?

"Well, that's how it is. When life is fucking hard, at least something's gotta be easy."

Truly, amazingly, I wasn't scared even as a hundred people all charged at once.

Forces from five groups were scrambling to charge at a single target, each trying to claim the credit first, but I'd already come too far to feel any fear at that.

I'm not joking; if I just roughly got into stance and swung my sword once, it felt like I'd kill two or three of them at a time.

Calling it a hundred men was just words—it was more like fighting twenty men five times over, and on top of that, since one commander was already dead, a few of what looked like private soldiers under that bastard were hesitating and stepping back.

If they were this much of a mess, even dragging them into the mansion to fight would end so easily that my earlier worries would look foolish.

"I am Eldmia Ega!"

Even so, I'd tried to approach it seriously, but the moment I drew my sword and shouted, I saw them all backpedaling in a crowd, and the strength just drained out of me. There were too many eyes watching, so I'd tried to be serious, but I just couldn't keep it up.

"Hah... Those of you who are going to get lost on your own, get lost. Otherwise, come in and get fucked."

Was it because I showed an attitude of looking down on them so naturally? A few of them, the ones who at least showed a sparked reaction, drew their swords, shouted battle cries, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and took the lead.

If I cut down the three who were charging together amicably in a single line, would they run away a little?

It was worth a try, so I poured Magic Power into my sword.