Chapter 118
Chapter 118
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 118
Chapter Title: Lycanslope Threat
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“Lord Crollmarin?”
“Huh!? Ah, ahem!”
Lucas Crollmarin, still somewhat shocked by Eugene’s true nature, cleared his throat awkwardly.
“For one of such renown to grace my castle is a blessing beyond measure for House Crollmarin. Sir Yan Eugene, I welcome you to Crollmarin, the glorious land protected by the spirit of the lake.”
Unlike the typical boorish Brantian noble, Lucas offered a greeting with a fairly aristocratic air.
However, there was no helping the fact that he paled in comparison to the vampire high noble clad in exquisite plate armor and boasting striking looks.
And both Lucas himself and the castle’s nobles felt it keenly.
‘Damn it.’
Muttering curses under his breath, Lucas maintained an air of noble dignity on the surface as he spoke.
“I’ve heard that you’ve taken Sir Vos’s bastard son as your squire. It’s a most grateful and fortunate matter.”
“Luke Vos knows the honor of Crollmarin. Fine blood of a knightly house. Taking him as squire brings me joy as well.”
Flattery though it was, the nobles couldn’t hide their puffed-up pride, nodding repeatedly as if they themselves had been praised.
“But you’ve stepped forward for those brutish beasts?”
“……!”
At Lucas’s gaze, the brows of the Beowulf warriors twitched.
Thud!
Eugene stomped the floor and whipped his head around.
“Stay put.”
The Beowulfs, who had seemed ready to transform and rampage at any moment, fell instantly silent.
The nobles were startled but relieved at the sight.
‘As expected. Distant kin or not, those beasts can’t even twitch in his presence.’
‘To control the Beowulfs so perfectly. At least we can reason with him.’
Receiving the nobles’ expectant gazes, Eugene spoke in a slow but firm tone.
“Perseus Beowulfs. Will apologize to Crollmarin. However. The agreed ransom. 300,000 selling. I want it.”
“W-what!”
“Surely that can’t be reasonable!”
Sure enough, the briefly improved mood turned hostile in an instant.
Thud!
Eugene stomped again, silencing the count’s nobles this time before continuing.
“The havoc they wrought in this castle and village. Resulting damages. Will compensate. Name your price.”
“Ho!”
The astonished nobles buzzed.
In other words, he would cover all damages from the Beowulfs’ rampage, so hand over the payment they were originally due for joining the war?
“I did a quick calculation, by the way.”
All eyes turned toward the source of the clear, resonant voice.
Ranslo stepped forward with her signature enchanting smile.
“They say the Perseus Beowulfs killed around two hundred livestock at the time, right?”
“Er… yes, that seems correct.”
The castle’s financial officer nodded after a brief calculation.
“And three knights and over forty soldiers suffered moderate to severe injuries. That correct too?”
“Yes. Precisely forty-four soldiers.”
“Then livestock value plus injury compensation comes to about 320,000 selling? That should suffice, no?”
“Well, that’s…”
“One more thing. I heard the fighting damaged this castle somewhat. So, Sir Yan Eugene will pay 400,000 selling, including repair costs and compensation. Subtract the 300,000 selling the Beowulfs were owed, and exactly 100,000 selling remains.”
“B-but.”
As the financial officer started to protest, Partek, who had been waiting, set down a small chest.
“Prepared in Roman Empire gold coins.”
Clink!
“Keeek!”
“Ooh……!”
The nobles’ eyes gleamed with greed at the sight of the shining gold. Even Lucas, the castle’s lord, forgot decorum and shot to his feet, eyes bulging.
‘Gold’s better anyway.’
Gold outshone silver for the same value—an eternal truth. Especially when the world’s most desire-driven creature was already losing it; the effect was guaranteed.
Sure enough, the nobles’ reactions were enthusiastic.
“W-were gold coins always that dazzling?”
“Who knows. It’s been so long since I’ve seen one… Exquisite.”
“Keeek! Of course! This body! Polished them all night! By fighting and spitting! How clean they are! Keeek!? You scum! Don’t touch carelessly! They’ll get smudged! Kee-hee-kee-hee!”
The spirit of desire was making a fuss, rubbing against the gold that would soon belong to others anyway.
Ranslo, one of the few who could properly see the creature alongside Eugene, suppressed bursting laughter as she spoke.
“What say you? 100,000 selling in Roman Empire gold coins. Will you accept?”
Lucas snapped out of his trance, eyes burning with greed fixed on the chest.
After a moment’s hesitation, he glanced at Eugene cautiously.
“It may sound shameless, but do one thing for us, and I’ll gladly accept your proposal.”
“A task?”
“I hear you encountered my soldiers earlier.”
“That’s right.”
Eugene nodded, omitting any mention of their disgraceful flight at first sight.
“Ahem! Their… somewhat dishonorable conduct wasn’t solely from fear of you.”
“Hm?”
“You must have seen it yourself coming from Mungard. Brantia’s public order has collapsed badly. The root cause is our failure to properly subjugate the demon realm over years past. Roamers have multiplied three or four times compared to a few years ago.”
“I know well. Crollmarin in the same state?”
“Embarrassingly, yes. Vassals struggle just to protect their own demesnes; travel between villages is difficult.”
“Perhaps. You want Roamers exterminated?”
Eugene narrowed his eyes.
Until now, they’d followed the rough route from Mungard, dealing only with Roamers near the path.
Clearing all Roamers from a vast territory like Crollmarin was an entirely different matter.
Time aside, it was nearly impossible with their current forces.
“Not all the territory’s Roamers. That’s my duty as lord of Crollmarin. What I dare ask of you is to eliminate only the most severe threat.”
“The most severe Roamers?”
At Eugene’s question, Lucas and the castle nobles all turned as one toward the Perseus Beowulfs.
“Lycanslopes. My troops mistook your group for a Lycanslope pack—that’s why they panicked so.”
* * *
Crunch crunch.
From early morning, Lucas and the castle nobles watched Eugene’s group and the Beowulf warriors departing through the gates.
“My lord, are you sure this is wise?”
A noble cautiously asked the beaming Lucas.
“Hm? What about?”
“The Lycanslopes. Numbers aside, their lair is…”
“Ah, what’s to worry? Sir Eugene is a high noble of the Night Clan. Plus thirty Perseus Beowulf warriors. That force could match hundreds of heavy cavalry. No need for concern.”
“True, but that assumes open plains combat. The Lycanslopes lurk in Marin Forest, with Croll Lake there.”
Other nobles chimed in.
“Indeed. Shouldn’t we at least warn Sir Eugene what happened there?”
“And tell him what became of Duke Bartla’s Lafplas when he went to subjugate them…”
“Enough! These heroes march honorably for Crollmarin! Instead of praying for victory!”
“F-forgive my impertinence.”
“Our apologies, my lord.”
The startled nobles bowed hastily.
“Ahem! I understand your concerns, but now we must trust them. I pray they return victorious.”
‘Die there, all of you! No, at least that one must die.’
Unlike his dignified expression, Lucas’s eyes gleamed vilely, fixed on one receding back.
Luke’s.
‘Incredibly lucky so far, but that ends here. For me—no, for House Vos—you’d best die there. The filthy mongrels too.’
Grateful as he was for the gold, Lucas had no intention of forgiving the Beowulfs.
‘You wretched curs! Forgot one of the knights you beat down was me?’
The past humiliation aside, fury boiled anew at the Beowulfs who had thrashed a count like him and remembered nothing.
Not ten or five years ago, but barely a year!
‘I’d love for them all to perish, but that vampire high noble and one or two knights will likely survive. Then I’ll feign warm comfort. If they’re moved by my mercy and pledge service, perfect. Haha!’
Imagining a future with such elite knights under him, Lucas barely suppressed his laughter.
Thus, Lord Lucas Crollmarin of Crollmarin gazed down at the fools heading to their deaths, cheeks jiggling nonstop.
* * *
“Something felt off, didn’t it?”
“Indeed. Mouths spoke worry and thanks, but eyes smiled.”
Recalling the young Crollmarin count’s face when they accepted the Lycanslope subjugation, Eugene’s gaze turned cold.
“Seemed like he had ulterior motives.”
“The elf lord’s right. Even this body could tell that duck-billed count was scheming!”
Mirian chattered. She had sneaked into Lucas Crollmarin’s chambers last night on Eugene’s orders.
No info gained, regrettably, but even the intuition-sharp spirit sensed it—something was afoot.
“Luke.”
“Yes, Master.”
Eugene addressed Luke, whose face and eyes brimmed with newfound confidence since yesterday.
“Do you know about Marin Forest, where the Lycanslopes have formed a pack?”
“A little. As you know, Crollmarin takes its name from Marin Forest and Croll Lake. The count’s ancestors received the entire forest, lake included, from the king.”
“So they must reclaim such a vital place?”
“Yes. Over time, House Crollmarin prospered, leaving Croll Forest as their private hunting ground. But as the family’s origin, it holds special meaning.”
“Then someone guards such a key spot?”
“Ah, yes. That would be… House Vos.”
“Hm?”
“Ho?”
As Eugene and Ranslo reacted in surprise, Luke continued calmly.
“House Vos’s demesne borders Croll Forest. A small village of about forty households. They farm some, but mostly live by logging, herding, and hunting. When the count visited for hunts two or three times a year, Sir Vos guided him personally.”
“I see. Then why didn’t the count mention it? Wouldn’t sending you to rally House Vos for cooperation be far better?”
Eugene couldn’t fathom Lucas’s handling.
Yet Luke seemed to suspect something.
“I found it odd too, but yesterday wasn’t my place to speak. And my thought is…”
Hesitating briefly, Luke continued with a slightly gloomy expression.
“Something may have happened to House Vos. Croll Forest is vast and deep, but with hundreds of Lycanslopes and their Roamer minions… House Vos likely…”
“Keeeh. Squire No. 2 so pitiful.”
“Hm.”
Eugene grasped the gist.
Vast forest or not, Lycanslopes wouldn’t stay inside. The count’s recent request stemmed from their expanding beyond the woods.
‘Still, feels like there’s more…’
After pondering, Eugene looked up.
Whatever it was, it didn’t matter.
‘Crush any traps, slaughter any attackers.’
This was Brantia. Not the Kailer Kingdom, where he minded other lords and nobles.
Count or king, if justification held, Eugene was ready to kill anytime.
(To be continued next time)