Chapter 24
Chapter 24
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: A Devoted Reader's Rebirth Life
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Smack!
Smack!
Smack!
The sound of flesh striking flesh was so vicious that the attendants listening outside unconsciously rubbed their own cheeks.
"Useless bitch.
You who brings no benefit to the family!"
Smack!
Smack!
The man's hands showed no mercy.
The woman's cheek had already turned bright red from the brutal impacts, swelling with pooled blood, and her lip had burst open, blood streaming down.
Yet the man did not relent in his savage onslaught.
"Filthy bitch!
You should've just died—why did you come back!
And on top of that?
Dragging the soldiers down with you?"
Smack!
Her head snapped to the side.
He had struck her so many times that even his own hand was numb and tingling.
"Head out immediately."
"..."
"Reinforcements from the capital have already arrived!
Go make up for this defeat!
And then die out there.
Drop dead!
Don't shove that filthy body of yours in front of me again!"
Crash!
Ornaments and flower pots shattered mercilessly.
Even then, his rage not sated, the man heaved ragged breaths as he glared at Risikida.
"I never should've taken in trash like you."
"..."
"I fed you, clothed you, gave you a bed, even gave you my heart without knowing your place—and you wag your tail only to stab me in the back and block my path like this? If I'd known you'd turn out to be such a bitch!
I should've left you to die in the slums back then, you worthless worm!"
It felt like her mind had gone blank.
She wanted to cry, her chest ached so badly she wanted to collapse, but Risikida could not.
She had even forgotten how to cry.
She had killed everything for the man before her eyes and charged forward blindly, forgetting even how to shed tears amid the battles.
"Get out.
Don't ever come back.
Die.
Just die already."
"...Yes, my lord Count."
Her master had finally spat the order for her to die.
She wanted to say something—anything—but she lacked the courage.
Risikida bowed her head and left the Count's study.
The moment she exited and the maids entered, the sounds of more shattering objects and the man's roars echoed again.
"..."
Risikida closed her eyes and walked on.
She wiped the blood from her split lip roughly with the back of her hand and dragged her body—still hot from the battlefield—out of the castle.
There, the freshly arrived reinforcements from central Nudia awaited.
"Sir Amstel."
She had seen the man a few times in the royal palace.
He appeared to be the commander leading these troops.
His leadership was average, but he cared well for his soldiers—a relief.
She was off to die now, after all; he would take charge of them.
"...Let's go.
Any delay gives the enemy time to regroup."
"Aren't you going to rest?"
"I'm fine.
I still have a score to settle."
Having seen her face, the man seemed about to say something but closed his mouth.
With the rumors swirling openly in Nudia, he couldn't speak carelessly.
Risikida took the vanguard and swiftly moved the soldiers forward.
The enemy scouts, caught off guard by the rapid resumption of attack, panicked visibly as they raced back toward Clausen Margrave's castle.
'...Will that man come out again?'
She regretted dodging that blow.
Foolish idiot that she was, she cursed herself for evading that strike.
What kind of stupid fantasy had she entertained?
Wishing to fight at the side of an enemy noble from Clausen—no less the Young Lord of the Clausen family, eternal foes of Nudia.
"We'll soon make contact with the enemy.
What do you think, Sir Amstel?
Will Hispania force a pitched battle?
Or hunker down and compel a siege?"
"They might push for open combat, buoyed by their prior victory, but if they spot that our forces are entirely fresh troops, they could switch to defending the walls."
"The extremes of the situation are confusing."
Their advance slowed.
Ahead lay the enemy lines, with Clausen Margrave Territory's castle right before them.
The Clausen Margrave, who had repelled every Nudian assault and just hours ago launched a devastating counter-raid, was in there.
"..."
"..."
But soon, Risikida and the commander sensed something off.
By now, the drawbridge should be dropping with soldiers pouring out, or the walls bustling with activity—yet nothing.
'What’s going on?'
She knew battlefield shifts well and had seen many.
Calm before the storm, like before a massive siege.
But this utter stillness was definitely strange.
Rumble rumble rumble—
"Over there!"
A knight up front pointed at the drawbridge.
It lowered slowly, and the gates creaked open.
The commander ordered the troops into formation.
The enemy, emboldened by victory, seemed ready for open battle.
The Nudians welcomed it, swiftly taking positions.
But what emerged from the gates were not soldiers in gleaming armor wielding sharpened blades.
"...Huh?"
Men and women in ordinary clothes crossed the drawbridge and began vigorously sweeping the road ahead.
Sprinkling water, brushing with brooms, even exchanging light banter.
Enemy army at their doorstep, yet acting as if blind to it.
Like they were cleaning in eager anticipation of incoming guests.
"Wh-what the hell are they doing?"
"Commander.
They look like just ordinary civilians, no matter how you slice it."
"They're insane.
Army right in front of them, and they drop the drawbridge and open the gates?"
The commander nearly issued the attack order.
But sudden suspicion sealed his lips.
'...A trap?'
That was the nature of "situations."
If the flow merely tipped slightly in a tense standoff, maybe.
But when it flipped completely favorably in an utterly unforeseen way, doubt came before certainty.
No way this was happening, couldn't be, they're crazy—how could this be?
The scene before them was like the foe they'd just bloodied suddenly flopping down the moment battle resumed, yelling "Come on in! Irasshaimase!"
"What the— what is this...?"
"Why are they doing that?
Surrendering?"
"Insane?
The Clausens surrendering?"
The commander's hesitation swelled the soldiers' murmurs.
He needed to decide fast, but the absurdity gripped his ankles.
Clausens surrendering?
It'd be a funnier joke if a goblin grabbed his dick and yelled "This is our secret weapon!"
Twang—
A sudden pluck of lute strings.
Every Nudian eye—and Risikida's—turned there.
Someone perched precariously atop a protruding battlement, fiddling with a lute.
Plink, plink-plink—
Ting-a-lang—
After tuning briefly, the man launched into an unfamiliar melody.
"...What the hell is that...?"
Over three thousand soldiers stood arrayed, weapons glinting murderously.
Yet those before them chatted while sweeping the road.
The man on the wall basked in afternoon sun, strumming his lute.
"..."
If someone approached saying, "What're you pondering, idiot?
They look totally defenseless—charge 'em!"
The commander would've drawn his sword and lopped off their head.
The foe was Clausen Margrave Territory.
The iron shield guarding Hispania's border for over a century, repelling Nudia and counterattacking to thwart conquest ambitions time and again.
For them to drop the shield and beckon "Come on in!"?
Twang!
Ting-tang!
Twiddle-dee-ding!—
Urging the restless Nudians onward, the lute player strummed faster.
For the record—something neither they nor anyone in Clausen could know—the man on the lute, Sion Clausen, was clumsily matching notes to "Open the Door" by singer Im, the guy who mumbles "What kinda schmuck am I" over a common tune and a shot of soju.
'Droowa droowa—'
—
"Pardon?
Young Lord.
What did you just say?"
"Send every soldier down from the walls, open the gates, drop the drawbridge, and have them do some cleaning."
Lion was speechless at Sion's brazen command.
The enemy was almost here.
They should be fortifying the gates and devising defenses to hold until the foe tired and withdrew—yet open the gates and drop the drawbridge for cleaning?
"We just had a scrap, right?
Work then rest—that's the rule."
"Young Lord!
This jest has gone too far!"
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
Everyone knew that smile wasn't genuine, despite his grin.
Knight Commander Lion couldn't utter harsh words, so he turned to Margrave Lichten instead.
Help me understand this madness, my lord—your call.
"Knight Commander."
"Yes, Margrave."
"Open the gates."
"...Pardon?"
"Do as Sion says.
Get them moving."
"M-Margrave!"
Lion bellowed despite the impropriety.
Gates hard to breach, drawbridge tough to cross, castle near impossible to take.
This was worse than smiling at an armed robber, opening the door politely, then asking where the valuables and cash were kept!
"Knight Commander."
"Such an order—!"
"Execute it."
Faced with Margrave Lichten's icy resolve, Knight Commander Lion bowed his head.
Thus, as they prepared the ploy's trap, Sion chuckled.
"Gonna pull this off, huh.
Man, was Zhuge Liang's heart racing like this?
This is fucking thrilling."
Well, Zhuge Liang was probably terrified, not thrilled.
The situations weren't even remotely similar.
"And we're not totally unprepared."
Fools rushing in? Behind the gates, knights and soldiers waited under Kim Yu-hyun's lead.
If they didn't bite, siege it was—but Sion was certain they'd ignore the obvious and plunge in.
Alone, one might charge recklessly, but hundreds or thousands amplified a single anxiety a hundredfold in seconds.
Especially staring down the hell of battle—it multiplied a thousand times over.
'It's not who fights better—it's who chickens out first.
That's a real brawl!'
Words from the taekwondo instructor at the dojo every kid attended.
More useful in real life than Mencius, Xunzi, innate goodness, or innate evil bullshit.
'More than that, Sion Clausen—you strummed a lute when bored, and damn, it fits your hands.
Gotta pluck it now and then.'
Discovering an unintended talent left him feeling refreshed.
Lose that sharp edge once, and sieges were unwinnable—so they'd crumble and retreat soon, Sion was sure.
If they stubbornly fought? Their funeral.
"..."
"!..."
He couldn't hear well, but the commander and his aides were conferring.
Undoubtedly agonizing over what to do.
Sane folks would withdraw and observe—but as Sion pondered the next tune,
"Haaah!"
Thud thud thud!
Shattering the quiet, hooves thundered suddenly.
'What the—?' Sion whipped around, face like finding a half-sliced worm in a peach.
"What the fuck, shit!"