Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Collection (5)
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Administrator Yuda was dead.
Viscount Bargo screamed as if having a fit.
"Aaack! W-What is this!?"
"War. I just declared it."
Federback kicked Yuda's head.
The rat's neck smashed against the wall and burst apart, scattering into hundreds of bone fragments and bits of flesh.
A long streak of blood remained on the wall like a painting.
"Tell them to repaint it. The castle will overflow with red paint today."
Federback strode toward Viscount Bargo.
He picked up the corkscrew lying on the table.
The screw used earlier to uncork the wine.
Federback jammed it straight into Viscount Bargo's fat neck.
"Guek—"
Viscount Bargo flailed about, squealing like a pig having its throat slit, without even putting up a fight.
But the wine opener in Federback's hand pierced through Viscount Bargo's thick flesh and buried itself deep in his throat.
"Don't move. If you do, I'll yank it out."
"……!"
Viscount Bargo froze at Federback's low voice.
What was embedded in his neck right now wasn't a knife or an awl, but a spiral-shaped wine cork remover.
It screwed in with a twist, but came out all at once with a pop when pulled.
If he yanked it out in one go?
A deep, gaping hole the size of a wine cork would tear open in Viscount Bargo's neck.
If that happened...
"If this gets pulled out, your master dies instantly. Even a swarm of mages couldn't stop the bleeding."
Federback smiled brightly at those in front of him.
The knights of House Levarb all hesitated before that eerie yet innocent smile.
They neither charged nor retreated, frozen at an awkward distance.
And those in-between positions made perfect prey for Federback's blade.
Ssshaaaak—
From low to high, left to right, a blood trail drawn like an S laid on its side.
Splatter splatter spluuurt!
Blood sprayed everywhere as four knights clutched their eyes, throats, and groins and staggered back.
Federback tugged on the corkscrew embedded in Viscount Bargo's neck and stepped forward.
"Now, make way, you mongrels."
The slightest hesitation brought a blade thrusting at them.
The knights crowding outside the conference room pressed to the sides, clearing a path.
Federback walked on, pulling the opener lodged in Viscount Bargo's neck.
The sight evoked an animal handler yanking tightly on a dog's leash.
Viscount Bargo gasped for breath and spoke.
"You think you'll get away with this? How many knights and soldiers are outside?"
"We have plenty too."
"……Us?"
Viscount Bargo looked puzzled at Federback's words.
Soon, he bared his teeth and growled.
"Don't toy with me! Your delegation's forces were pathetic—what could they possibly..."
"The delegation was a decoy. The main force is a proper army. They're coming to wipe you out."
"Nonsense! You expect me to believe that?"
"It's not nonsense. The soldiers who finished the orc subjugation are still fired up and haven't even doffed their armor. They're marching straight here."
"……!"
Viscount Bargo's eyes went wide.
War normally required ample preparation time.
Gathering scattered troops across the territory, allocating supplies based on needs, organizing commanders, and mobilizing all at once took at least several weeks.
But House Meursault lived in a perpetual state of wartime readiness. Their soldiers were always fully assembled, composed solely of battle-hardened veterans who needed no special mobilization drills.
House Levarb, on the other hand, hadn't even gathered their forces or hired extra mercenaries yet.
No matter how many potential troops House Levarb had, a clash in this situation would end predictably.
House Levarb wouldn't survive even the first battle against House Meursault—they'd be torn apart mercilessly.
Viscount Bargo panted heavily.
"Th-That's impossible... No, it can't be, you're lying. If that were true, we would've known..."
"I'm not asking you to believe it. I'll just take you hostage and stroll out of the castle. No need for annoying lies."
"Yuda, you dog bastard! Why didn't you tell me something this important!?"
Viscount Bargo screamed at Federback's words.
But the dead gave no reply.
And even if alive, he wouldn't have had one.
'Administrator Yuda didn't know until the moment he died.'
Federback had prepared this plan ever since Yuda searched Soleil's office for the house seal.
He had tightly controlled information for exactly this reason.
Viscount Bargo spat desperately.
"Planning a cowardly sneak attack?"
"Ever heard of war? Ambushes are basic tactics."
"You think this will be tolerated!?"
"You're the ones who refused tribute and dug in your heels. We have ample justification."
"Doesn't matter. Our walls are high and sturdy! Just capture you before the castle falls!"
"That's why I've got this wine opener in your neck."
Federback paused, peering into Viscount Bargo's eyes.
The fury in those pupils churned violently, like red wine sloshing in a bottle.
"To pop open this fortress like a cork."
It was killing intent.
The moment Viscount Bargo clamped his mouth shut in terror—
"Halt!"
Knights armed with swords came rushing from down the corridor.
Every one of them wore a venomous glare.
Viscount Bargo bared his bloodied teeth.
"Kill me if you must, but House Levarb won't yield to a reckless wolf pup like you."
He addressed the knights filling the corridor.
"I'm fine dying! Kill this brat here!"
Viscount Bargo played his trump card.
The knights charged at Federback with fierce glares.
But.
"Best judgment, but the outcome will be the worst."
Federback didn't yield an inch even against House Levarb's knights.
Pure white aura gathered at the tip of his gleaming blade.
Meursault Style 1: Bloodletting
Thrusts into terrified dogs' necks, groins, and joints to drain blood.
Puuuush!
The face of the first charging knight was diagonally sliced in half, helmet and all.
Blood sprayed forth with the slash.
Crack! Craaack! Spliiiit!
The knight behind lost his left wrist to the slash. The one after had his right knee split vertically. The next had both eyeballs gouged out.
In the narrow corridor, even rough swings inflicted fatal wounds.
And packed so tightly, they couldn't leverage their numbers at all.
Federback relentlessly pushed through the knights.
House Levarb's knights possessed roughly 1st to 2nd Circle strength.
Not bad for a border viscount's guards.
But.
'...Far inferior to the orcs from the snowy mountains.'
Federback was a genius of melee brawls, always entangled with enemies until the bitter end through multiple Demon World Wars.
He was a master of such blood-soaked dogfights.
Red paints splattered the walls, layered on until the entire corridor was soaked.
The palette had three colors.
......The white blade light Federback wielded.
......The crimson blood spurting from the enemies' necks.
......And Viscount Bargo's face, growing ever paler.
Federback's artistic sense was still alive.
"Hiiik!?"
"Aaaah!"
"Kuh... ugh...!?"
Knights losing ears, noses sliced off, eyes gouged, wrists, knees, groins slashed—they crumpled to the floor.
Federback advanced, indifferently stabbing the throats of those rolling on the ground.
With his other hand, he slowly tugged the corkscrew in Viscount Bargo's neck.
"No more knights?"
"……."
"How about it? Call more soldiers?"
Federback looked down at Viscount Bargo, who was being dragged along hunched over.
Viscount Bargo averted his gaze, enduring the agony of his flesh tearing from his neck.
They had walked over a hundred meters.
The path was drenched in corpses and blood.
This horrific scene was the work of one person—a mere fifteen-year-old from House Meursault.
Viscount Bargo began to tremble.
'We shouldn't have touched House Meursault. Side branch or not, they're born monsters. If the youngest son at fifteen is this much, what about the veterans...'
At that moment.
"Catch the assassin!"
"We must save the Viscount!"
"All to the corridor! Everyone assemble!"
The narrow corridor opened into a wide plaza.
There, knights and soldiers stood in full armor, arrayed in ranks.
Viscount Bargo's face finally lit with relief at the overwhelming numbers.
He said to Federback,
"Let's negotiate here. If you keep forcing it, you won't leave alive..."
But Federback showed no panic.
Whiiiish...
He merely muttered while facing the wind blowing from the corridor's end.
"Finally, the wind's shifted direction."
"?"
He had been mindful of the wind's direction until now.
Viscount Bargo looked puzzled once more.
But Federback offered no explanation, simply drawing a leather pouch from his waist.
Shhhh shhhh...
Green powder scattered from the pouch.
Carried by the wind, it spread toward the knights and soldiers in the plaza.
And then.
"Kek!"
"Gurk!?"
"Grrrrrgl..."
All in the plaza clutched their throats and staggered.
"W-What!? Poison? Poison powder!?"
Viscount Bargo cried out in shock.
Federback nodded.
"Powder from drying and grinding venom sacs of deep-dungeon centipedes. Quite harmful to the body."
Harmful was an understatement.
It blinded on eye contact, erupted grotesque blisters on skin contact, and brought excruciating itch and pain.
Even seasoned knights became invalids for at least half a day.
Federback made excellent use of the fierce poison harvested from Biggo's centipedes.
"Nice that they're all gathered in an open space."
Federback watched the plaza's forces collapse from a few gusts of wind.
As the wind shifted again, he closed the poison pouch.
"Let's see. Who has the highest circle here?"
Federback wove through the paralyzed knights and soldiers, prodding survivors' throats with his blade.
Burly men who must have shone on battlefields died pathetically without resistance.
Of course, Viscount Bargo had to watch it all, dragged like a dog by Federback's hand.
...Stab! ...Stab! ...Stab! ...Stab! ...Stab! ...Stab! ...Stab! ...Stab! ...Stab! ...Stab! ...Stab! ...Stab! ...Stab! ...Stab!
When half the plaza was submerged in blood, Viscount Bargo finally spoke.
"S-Stop...!"
But regardless of Viscount Bargo's pleas, Federback kept stamping his blade like a seal.
The pooled blood in the wide plaza soon reached Federback's ankles.
Finally, Viscount Bargo screamed in a frenzy.
"Please! Please stop! I beg you!"
"This is war. What are you begging for? 'Don't do it, please.'"
"Please spare me! Please... uwaaah—I'll give you anything."
He clasped his hands and begged Federback.
"I'll surrender the house and everything. Just please don't slaughter my household. Please, please..."
At those words, Federback finally sheathed his blade.
No need for unnecessary killing if they surrendered everything.
Though eighty percent of House Levarb's people were already dead—that wasn't his concern.
"Then let's draw up a new contract."
"Yes."
Viscount Bargo nodded, tears of blood streaming down his face.
Federback called to a soldier huddled at the plaza's edge, head covered and trembling.
"Bring parchment and a quill. No need for ink—we have plenty here."
Who would dare refuse in this safety?
All demands were met.
Viscount Bargo wrote a blood oath with the blood dripping from his neck.
Everything as Federback dictated.
Federback added detailed appendices to the brought documents.
Pocketing the parchment, Federback finally sheathed his sword.
"Done. Let's go."
"……W-Where to?"
Viscount Bargo asked.
Federback tugged the wine opener in Viscount Bargo's neck.
"When the guest leaves, you escort him. Isn't that the gentleman's duty?"
Those were Viscount Bargo's own words from their first meeting.
Whiiiiiish...
Beyond the wide-open castle gates, a blizzard raged.
House Meursault's dispatched forces would be approaching from there.
The Meursault army marching, prepared for all-out war with Levarb.
Federback planned to join them, Viscount Bargo in tow.
The Meursault knights expecting a bloody siege might feel a bit deflated...
But that couldn't be helped.