Chapter 86: Bandits and Refugees
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 86: Bandits and Refugees
The Far East Front Alliance Hall.
In the Far East, where there was rarely a reason to gather more than once a year, this was the first time a second assembly had been called so soon.
Ferda scanned the fourteen lords seated before him. Some of them had lost the soft, well-fed look they possessed during the first meeting; their jawlines were beginning to sharpen.
Ferda looked at them and spoke.
"There is a young man named Stephan."
A young man named Stephan.
It wasn't exactly the kind of thing a boy about to turn nineteen would usually say. However, his voice carried a weight that made even that potentially laughable choice of words feel natural.
"I trust you all know well what kind of person he is."
"We do, indeed."
"Thanks to him, we can now find whatever we need almost immediately."
Compliments for the man began to pour out one by one.
Self-sufficiency had its limits in the Far East. Most of these lords had lived their lives either settling for less or ignoring needs as if they never existed in the first place. Stephan was a capable merchant who had provided them with the opportunity to improve their lives.
"The reason you were able to enjoy such convenience is that I made a promise to that young man," Ferda said, holding up his index finger. "I promised to help him become the master of a merchant house."
"The master of a merchant house?"
"Young Master Stephan is more than capable of leading the Pascal Trading Company."
"I thought so as well. However, it seems the young man is struggling so much that he is on the verge of giving up on that dream."
A brief silence followed.
Normally, Count Consilus would have fanned the flames in a situation like this, but even he remained silent, watching. He wanted to gauge the actual flow of public opinion.
"If that is the case, is it not our duty to step forward?" a viscount who seemed to possess a strong sense of justice suddenly stood up.
Inspired by his spirit, another lord stood up and shouted as well. "He is right! The Far East has become livable thanks to him. We cannot simply turn a blind eye!"
"If we don't even think of repaying that debt, we deserve to be judged by the sun itself!"
"Aye, aye!"
Among them, Ferda also saw the faces of those who agreed with some hesitation. He made sure to memorize those faces clearly.
"I have heard your will. Until the Pascal Trading Company is stabilized, I wish to request that you dispatch troops to escort them. Of course, only to the extent that it does not interfere with the defense of the Archduchy."
"Of course! I shall dispatch thirty of my standing guards."
"We shall send thirty-five...!"
"Forty...!"
As the atmosphere grew heated with lords competing to prove their loyalty, Ferda was forced to cap the limit at thirty men per territory. Even so, four hundred soldiers were gathered in an instant, along with fifteen knights.
Ferda handed the signed documents to Count Consilus. "I'll leave this to you."
"As the Regent commands."
The issue of the merchant group's mercenaries was now half-resolved. The other half depended on whether the root cause of the problem could be addressed.
In the meantime, Ferda decided to do what he had to do.
"Ruri."
"Yes."
"Can you take me to the site where the raid occurred?"
"Do you think I'm your personal shuttle, Lord Ferda?"
"I simply don't want to waste time."
Grumbling, Ruri slid her hands under Ferda's arms and pulled him into an embrace. "Hold on tight. If you fall, I'm not catching you."
Ruri spread her large wings and took flight. It was a distance that would have taken two days from Valdrova Castle, but they arrived in less than a minute.
The site of the incident was a bit far from the Archduchy, located in a no-man's-land. This meant the land was as dangerous as it was worthless.
Given the grim season, the scene had been brutally ravaged. People from the Archduchy were guarding the perimeter, preserving the site as much as possible.
The investigation was being conducted by Dragon Spawn dispatched to maintain the magic circles. Administering the scene was Isabella. She spotted Ferda and Ruri and gave a polite bow.
"You've arrived? I see Miss Ruri is with you as well."
"Yes, somehow."
Ruri looked somewhat displeased with Isabella. It seemed less like a conflict between their respective organizations and more like a personal distaste for Isabella herself.
"What is the current status of the damages?"
"There were ten carriages moving toward the Archduchy," Isabella reported. "Three were for transporting monsters, and the other seven were delivering goods to the branch in Count Consilus's territory."
The three intact carriages were the ones carrying monster corpses. Since they were loaded with things considered foul even to approach, it was natural they were left untouched.
"And the casualties?"
"Out of twelve merchants, eleven are dead and one is missing. All twenty-two laborers were killed. Of the twenty hired mercenaries, two died. The staff was essentially wiped out, while most of the mercenaries made it out alive."
"Typical."
Typical in the sense that even if everyone else dies, the mercenaries always manage to survive.
"Anything unusual?"
"There is." Isabella pointed toward where the bodies lay. The corpses, each bearing a single sword wound, were lined up neatly. Ferda assumed they had been arranged that way for recovery.
"They were like that when we arrived."
"Lined up neatly?"
"Yes. Just in case, I asked the merchant group's scout, and he said he didn't touch them."
Ruri muttered in disbelief at the unexpected situation. "I suppose the standards of humans on the Serdes Continent have risen. To think bandits could be so polite."
"Indeed."
Ferda examined their condition. They were all lying straight, with their hands placed over their chests. Was there any reason to go through such trouble?
"There's one more strange thing. Some of the laborers were armed, but there are no signs of a struggle."
"No signs of a struggle means..."
"They were all killed in a single blow. In other words, they were ambushed."
Ferda understood immediately. "They didn't hire mercenaries; they hired bandits from the start."
"That seems to be the case."
It was a classic setup. Yet, even within that typical scenario, there was something that didn't make sense. Ruri noticed it too and tugged on Ferda's collar.
"Lord Ferda, if they ambushed the merchants, they obviously came to rob them, right?"
"Correct."
"But for a robbery, this ended far too modestly." Ruri pointed to the carriages loaded with valuables. "Look. They left without even touching the goods over there."
A chest containing golden candlesticks was wide open, practically shouting its presence. Yet, the carriages with valuables were barely touched.
The items stolen were fresh produce. Some preserved food and equipment were also taken. As for the most valuable gems and riches, only four items were missing.
"Miss Ruri, if I may answer that, it is likely because of the anti-theft magic," Isabella interjected.
"Anti-theft magic?" Ruri asked.
"To explain for Miss Ruri's benefit, a magical tag is attached to certain high-value items the moment someone other than the merchant touches them, allowing them to be tracked. It's a method modern merchants frequently use for insurance."
"I see."
A tracking spell that sticks to a criminal like a brand. Even so, it was common for thieves to take them anyway.
"Are the stolen valuables the only ones that weren't under tracking magic?"
"I've checked, and that is correct."
"Who would know that?"
"According to the reports, no one but the merchants should know."
Ferda rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "The two dead mercenaries."
"Yes."
"Are they marked by the tracking magic?"
"I'll check." Isabella released her mana to inspect the two corpses. Ferda's prediction was spot on. "Just as the Regent suspected, they are marked by tracking magic."
"It seems they killed the ones who got greedy."
Synthesizing the situation, Ferda reached a new hypothesis. "The missing merchant is likely the mastermind."
"It appears so. This is a method occasionally used in small to medium-sized merchant houses."
A merchant had brought in a band of bandits with the intention of backstabbing Stephan from the beginning. It was a picture of faking a total massacre to embezzle what they could and disappear.
The rough sketch was there, but Ferda still couldn't shake his doubts. The image in his mind wasn't perfectly clear yet. He pondered if he was fixating on something and then asked Isabella, "What if they never intended to plunder in the first place?"
Ruri and Isabella both asked at once, "Never intended to plunder?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"That the plunder was secondary, and the primary goal was murder and conspiracy. To show that the organization is collapsing from internal division."
"Murder and conspiracy..." Isabella nodded at Ferda's words, then tilted her head. "But if that's the case, there's something strange."
She showed Ferda the list of stolen items. "If murder was the goal, would there be any reason to take all the fresh food?"
"Couldn't they have taken it because they were short on food?" Ruri suggested.
Isabella countered Ruri's point. "If they were short on food, they should have taken all the emergency rations. For someone in a position where they have to flee, stealing fresh produce is a move even a third-rate amateur wouldn't make."
Isabella was right. Fresh food was bulky and difficult to store. If they wanted to pull off a hit-and-run, they would have cleared out the easy-to-store emergency rations.
"The only ones who would take those are people desperate for food—refugees."
"Which is practically a synonym for bandits."
Meaning there was no guarantee they hadn't cooperated. Ferda agreed with Isabella's assessment.
This leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
Ferda ran the numbers in his head over and over, trying to understand this annoying situation. He was more suspicious than usual, determined not to leave even the slightest doubt unexamined.
Just then, a Dragon Spawn assisting in the investigation whispered something into Isabella's ear.
"Good news. It seems there is one person marked with a tracking tag."
That was strange. The two mercenaries who had been marked due to greed had been killed on the spot.
"What did they steal?"
"They took a single gold coin from a merchant's pouch. We should be able to track the bandits with this."
"A single gold coin?"
"Yes."
Ferda asked again. "Did they take one coin from a pouch that only had one coin?"
"No. It was one of the coins remaining in a pouch that held five goldens for travel expenses, minus the one golden and thirty shillings spent on costs."
Taking only one gold coin from a pouch containing three goldens and seventy shillings.
"Where are they heading?"
"Surprisingly, they are heading toward the Archduchy."
It was truly a bizarre situation. They had tried so hard to avoid the tracking magic, only to be caught because of a single gold coin.
They were a mass of contradictions. Perfect yet flawed. Brutal yet polite. It was a chaos where two incompatible traits were mixed together.
Perhaps that stupid bandit would provide the answer himself.
"I will immediately organize a pursuit team and order them to capture everyone—"
"No." Ferda cut Isabella off. "There's no need to send others. We'll move ourselves."
"Us?" Isabella didn't look particularly pleased. "It's not fitting for someone of the Regent's status to suppress a mere band of bandits. It's better to leave such things to subordinates."
"She's right. You shouldn't do this." Ruri agreed with Isabella and tried to dissuade him.
But if he listened to such advice, he wouldn't be Ferda.
"I'm the type who isn't satisfied unless I do it myself. And I don't want to leave any room for doubt in this matter."
"Doubt?"
"Yes. No doubt must remain."
Only Ferda knew. Revenge is most beautiful when it is clean.
"This is a play of revenge for Stephan."
A revenge play must be tidy. A revenge play for someone else must be even tidier than usual. That was Ferda's philosophy.
* * *
Late evening.
Following the trail left behind, they found what appeared to be the bandits' camp. It was different from the den of vicious and vile criminals they had expected.
There, about forty men, women, and children were gathered in small groups around a campfire.
"Can we eat now?"
"No. It needs to cook a bit more."
"I'm starving! Listen, my stomach is growling!"
"It's better than dying of a stomach ache."
Despite how close they had gotten, no one noticed Ferda and Isabella's approach. Their attention was entirely focused on the campfire—specifically, the pot sitting atop it.
"It's done."
The children cheered, and the adults smiled. For this brief moment, they seemed to have forgotten that they were destined to vanish as fleetingly as mayflies.
Whether it was Isabella, Ferda, or Ruri, any one of them could have wiped these people out with a flick of a finger. Instead of moving his finger, Ferda kicked a pot rolling on the ground.
Clang! Clang!
The men, who had been focused on their own pot, turned their heads. A pot had suddenly come rolling toward them. When they looked up, they saw a man and two women standing there.
A brief silence followed. The one who broke it was a bearded man. He hurriedly drew his sword.
Shring!
The light of the campfire reflected softly off the blade. It was a well-forged sword that didn't match his appearance. Ferda knew instantly that it was a sword stolen from the merchant group.
"What are you doing?! Draw your weapons!"
At his command, the others belatedly realized the situation and tried to reach for their weapons.
"Stop!"
They all froze. The one who spoke was a man wearing half-plate armor. Unlike the other refugees who were fumbling in confusion, he possessed insight.
"Everyone, put down your swords! Drop your weapons, get on your knees, and put your hands on the ground!"
"What are you—"
"Do it now if you want to live!"
At the man's words, every man and woman knelt and placed their hands on the ground. They moved quickly, like people more accustomed to surrender than combat.
It was remarkably quick judgment. Ferda, who had intended to make an example of one of them to facilitate the conversation, felt slightly thwarted.
The man stood up and then knelt before Ferda. "I am William, the leader of this group of refugees. Might the guest's name be Ferda Valdrova... the Regent?"
He asked politely. His manner of speech was not that of a third-rate bandit.
"Yes, that is correct."
"And you must have completed the investigation into the raid... and tracked us here."
"Yes."
It seemed he was aware that an investigation team would be sent.
"I am certain you wish to know the details of the incident. I will tell you everything, so please, would you allow the children to eat first?"
Ferda let out a scoff. "A mere rat eating someone else's grain dares to seek sympathy by pretending to be human? You have no right to eat."
Ferda looked at them coldly. "From this moment on, anyone who moves without my permission dies. Adults, children, the elderly—it doesn't matter."
Ferda sat down on the very pot he had kicked. "Confess everything truthfully. If you don't, I'll start by killing the children."