The Fall of Viscount Rebion (2)
Viscount Rebion had not left his office in the main castle all day.
Anxiety had clawed at him, making sleep utterly impossible.
The surface of his desk was covered in deep scratches from where he had frantically gnawed at his fingernails.
“Sir Varian! Is there still no news?!”
“There is… nothing, my lord. No word has come from the Farrow territory.”
“How can this be? Surely that fool Bankers hasn’t confessed, has he?”
“…Realistically, I believe that is highly unlikely.”
“Indeed. No decent man would drive his own family to ruin. Are you keeping them under close watch?”
“They are under strict surveillance.”
Sir Varian reported, his expression tight with reluctance.
It was Viscount Rebion himself who had ordered the gold bars from each city to be moved to the main castle in the first place.
When giving such an order, he should have anticipated the possibility of failure.
Yet here he was, doing nothing but cursing Baronet Bankers, who had been captured while carrying out those very instructions. Sir Varian could only marvel at the man's shamelessness.
According to the survivors, Baronet Bankers had indeed been arrested, which boded ill for them all.
If even the Royal Knights had been mobilized, the situation was exceptionally grave.
Even so, Viscount Rebion’s orders were unjustifiable.
For a lord to hold his own vassal’s family hostage… Is this how a true ruler behaves?
Most of the knights in the territory shared this skepticism.
No matter how deeply they had sworn loyalty to the Rebion family, the realization that they too could be discarded the moment things went awry made everyone hesitate to act.
Sir Varian was no exception.
Knowing his own family could suffer if he stepped out of line, he had no choice but to obey Viscount Rebion blindly.
“Damn it, curse it all! What am I supposed to do?”
Terrified of being branded a traitor, Viscount Rebion had not eaten a single bite all day. Cold sweat poured from him, driven by sheer panic.
Watching him, Sir Varian could only let out a quiet sigh.
“You said a squad is currently guarding Baronet Bankers’ residence?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Send another squad! Make sure not a single member of Bankers’ family escapes that estate!”
“I will deliver the order at once!”
Viscount Rebion went back to gnawing on his fingernails.
His fingertips were already split and bleeding, but he could not stop.
The Farrow territorial army marched for half a day, finally halting at the outskirts of Beltain, which they had recently acquired.
Since the Rebion capital was still a considerable distance away, Jeron ordered the men to halt and pitch camp for the night.
Tents rose across the landscape, and smoke from boiling soup began to drift into the sky.
A large number of the Farrow family’s vassals had joined this 'subjugation' campaign.
Since they were on their way, they needed to begin the process of taking over the entire territory.
Among those vassals was Sharlen, who had officially joined their ranks just today.
Securing the confession alone was a massive achievement, but she wanted to prove her worth once more and climb even higher.
After analyzing the entire situation, Sharlen formulated a plan and sought out the tent of Sir Leila, with whom she shared a decent rapport.
“Are you inside?”
“What is it?”
Sir Leila was in the middle of her meal.
In this rugged field camp, the fare consisted of nothing but bread and soup, yet Leila worked her fork methodically, clearly accustomed to such conditions.
The tent contained only a simple cot and an armor stand.
It was a testament to how frugally Sir Leila lived her life.
“I came to consult you on a matter.”
“Have you eaten?”
“I am fine.”
“State your business, then.”
Even as Sharlen spoke, Sir Leila stuffed bread into her mouth with disciplined, precise movements.
It looked less like dining and more like fueling a machine to stay alive.
Sharlen laid out her plan.
“I want to take a few operatives, infiltrate the Rebion territory, and rescue Baronet Bankers’ family.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“Even so, I believe it is necessary.”
“If you succeed, it will certainly make things easier for us.”
“Do you think the Lord would grant me the opportunity if we present it to him?”
“Your courage is commendable. Whether you receive that opportunity is for our Lord to decide.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Follow me.”
Sir Leila lightly armed herself and stepped out of the tent. Sharlen followed closely behind, watching the knight's crimson hair sway in the breeze.
She really is incredible.
Sir Leila was known as one of the most capable knights in the territory.
While her combat prowess was among the absolute best, her sharp intellect had secured her position as Jeron’s closest confidante.
For a success-hungry woman like Sharlen, Sir Leila was the perfect role model.
Lost in her admiration, she soon found herself at the command tent.
Inside, Lord Jeron was also having a simple meal.
The Lord’s rations seemed no different from those of the common soldiers.
Jeron Farrow was leading by example, showing that a leader must share the hardships of his men.
“Sir Sharlen, what brings you here?”
“Sir…?”
“You are a vassal now, so the title fits.”
“Ah, yes! My Lord, I wish to infiltrate the Rebion territory and rescue Bankers’ family!”
“And why is that?”
“For your reputation, my Lord. Baronet Bankers testified that he only obeyed orders because his family was held hostage. If we rescue his household, we can publicly demonstrate your benevolence.”
“Ho.”
An intrigued look crossed Jeron’s face.
Jeron had also considered that rescuing Bankers’ family would simplify things.
The only issue was the risk.
“It is a special operation, and the risk is too high. Once you enter the enemy's capital, we cannot support you.”
“I will bear that responsibility entirely.”
Seeing her resolve, Jeron gave a prompt answer.
“Permission granted.”
“Thank you, my Lord!”
“However, if it looks too difficult, retreat immediately. I have no desire to lose a newly acquired talent so pointlessly.”
“Yes! I will make safety my utmost priority!”
The Lord’s approval had been given.
Until now, it had been nothing but her own concept, but the moment it passed the Lord’s lips, it became an official order.
Which meant, if she succeeded, she would be handsomely rewarded.
In the dead of night, when even the moonlight seemed swallowed by the dark, Sharlen set out with five intelligence operatives.
Sharlen was in command, leading a unique squad composed entirely of women.
This was Jeron Farrow’s consideration, believing that light, agile female operatives would stand the highest chance of success in an infiltration mission.
As expected, the Lord’s judgment was flawless.
They scaled a low section of the outer wall in a single bound, and not a single operative fell behind as they made their way toward Baronet Bankers’ estate.
Even before joining the Farrow family, Sharlen had navigated the Rebion territory like her own backyard during her time in the Dark Moon, allowing her to slip past the patrols with ease.
They reached the outskirts of the main castle, where Baronet Bankers’ estate was located.
Because the estate was so isolated, Viscount Rebion had stationed a heavy guard there.
A total of twenty-four men—two full squads—were guarding the residence.
Sharlen commanded her operatives with practiced ease.
They took up positions in the trees overlooking the estate, communicating through soft whistles from a small pipe.
Peep!
Pee-eep!
The operatives aimed the repeating crossbows they carried on their backs at the dozing guards.
These repeating crossbows were a secret weapon of the Farrow family. Sir Leila had strictly charged them to prevent these weapons from falling into enemy hands at all costs.
Not only was their destructive power immense, but they could also fire six bolts in rapid succession.
It was a weapon perfectly suited for special operations.
Peep!
At Sharlen’s signal, the crossbows fired simultaneously.
Thwack! Thwack!
With tremendous recoil, the bolts flew through the air.
A guard struck by a bolt was lifted off his feet and slammed into the estate wall.
It was a terrifying display of power.
And such a monstrous weapon was capable of rapid fire.
Sharlen had never seen a weapon of this caliber in her life.
Indeed, if such technology were to leak to the outside world, it would cause an absolute catastrophe.
When the volley ended, not a single guard remained standing in front of the estate.
The operatives stared, mouths agape, stunned by the performance of their weapons.
“Th-that was incredible…”
Viscount Rebion ended up staying awake the entire night.
When a messenger arrived at dawn with the news that the Farrow family had mobilized their army, sleep became completely out of the question.
To make matters worse, the report claimed that Royal Knights were leading the vanguard.
Throughout the night, Viscount Rebion drew up and discarded plan after plan.
Now that things had escalated to this point, he had to abandon Baronet Bankers.
He had to insist that this entire affair was executed solely by Baronet Bankers on his own initiative, and that he had absolutely nothing to do with it.
If he played his cards right, he might just slip through.
Bam!
The office door burst open, sending Viscount Rebion’s heart leaping into his throat.
He was about to scream at the intruder for failing to knock, but the words died in his throat as Sir Varian delivered a shocking report, his face twisted in horror.
“My Lord! Baronet Bankers’ family has vanished!”
“W-what?! How does that make any sense?! Did I not send two entire squads to guard them yesterday?!”
“The relief guards who went this morning brought back the bodies! Every single one of our men was killed by bolts, and the Baronet’s family is gone…”
“Ah!”
Viscount Rebion’s body began to tremble violently.
There was only one person capable of pulling off such a feat.
Jeron Farrow. It was him.
“That bastard!”
“My Lord!”
Before he could even process the shock, another messenger rushed into the room.
At this point, he was terrified to even hear the news.
The messenger reported in a trembling voice.
“Th-the Farrow army has appeared! And they are flying the royal banner!”
“Ah…”
Viscount Rebion collapsed into his chair.
A disaster of monumental proportions had arrived at his doorstep.
At the gates of the Rebion capital, nearly a thousand troops of the Farrow family stood in neat, imposing ranks.
At the vanguard, the Royal Knights stood like an impenetrable wall, proudly hoisting the King’s banner. Overawed by the sight, the defenders atop the walls stood frozen, unsure of how to react.
If this were a simple territorial war, they would have attacked without hesitation. But if they made a wrong move against an army associated with the King, not only the Rebion family but the families of every soldier present could be executed for treason.
Jeron knew then that he could take the castle without shedding a single drop of blood.
The Count really came through for us.
The only reason they could achieve a bloodless entry was the presence of the Royal Knights.
If even a single arrow were fired from the walls, the soldiers and knights inside would be ruined, and their families executed. They would never dare to shoot.
Jeron sent forward Sir Garcia, whose booming voice was perfect for the task.
“Open the gates at once! Do you dare defy an army marching under the direct orders of His Majesty the King?!”
A massive commotion broke out atop the walls.
To be precise, this was not the King’s direct order, but rather the will of Count Renkai, who held the authority to act on the King’s behalf. Still, Garcia’s words were not technically a lie.
A decree written by the Royal Inspector carried the weight of the King’s own authority.
A moment later, Viscount Rebion finally showed himself.
In just a few days, the Viscount had aged terribly.
He must have suffered immensely, agonizing over his options.
“Jeron Farrow! Do you think I do not know you fabricated that confession?! You shall not take a single step into my territory!”
Jeron saw no need to step forward himself.
Sir Garcia’s voice immediately boomed across the field once more, drowning out all other sounds.
“I will give you one minute! If you do not throw down your weapons and open the gates right now, it will be deemed an act of rebellion, and the families of every knight and soldier here will be executed alongside you!”
“…”
The knights and soldiers of Rebion wavered.
Viscount Rebion screamed at the top of his lungs, but in this remote corner of the kingdom, no one had the courage to openly defy the King’s decree.
Garcia’s sheer confidence only served to intimidate them further.
Slowly, the heavy castle gates began to creak open.
“You fools! You bastards! What do you think you are doing?!”
Viscount Rebion flailed his sword wildly in a desperate frenzy.
But with his obese frame, his clumsy swings could not even graze the hem of a soldier's cloak.
“Arrest him!”
“Yes, my Lord!”
At Jeron’s command, the knights of the Farrow family surged through the gates and scaled the walls in an instant.
Viscount Rebion, still thrashing and resisting, was easily subdued and bound.
Sir Garcia jogged over to report the outcome.
“My Lord! It is finished! What shall we do with this pig?”
“What else? Cut off his head. And tell the citizens to bring out the bread!”