Chapter 108
Chapter 108
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 108
Chapter Title: War of Nerves
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“Damn bastard!”
Bang!
Viscount Wayne bellowed as he slammed his fist on the table. A mere mercenary who didn’t know his place had declared a territorial war. The humiliation from the party just a short while ago was still vividly etched in his mind.
“He’s ultimately scheming to swallow up my territory!”
On top of that, he’d dug up the illegitimate child Wayne had hidden away and was using her to stake a claim on the territory. Viscount Wayne knew about Cisella. And he knew she didn’t have the personality or the brains to lead something like this.
It was obvious he was using the bastard to steal the territory. Of course, Viscount Wayne had no intention of sitting idly by. He hurriedly sent a letter to the Count, claiming Viscount Lucas was trying to snatch his land using his own illegitimate child.
Before long, the news reached Count Osland. The man with brown hair and eyes tinged with pale gold frowned as he read Wayne’s letter.
“So... he’s not one to be taken lightly?”
“No, my lord Count. Not just tough—he was incredibly strong. Even when we fought with everything we had, we couldn’t match him.”
“Useless fool...”
As Asher spoke of Kyle, the Count clicked his tongue. He revised his assessment of Kyle. He’d called him useless, but he’d been using Asher quite effectively.
At the very least, no one in his territory was stronger than Asher—knights included. Otherwise, why would he keep his illegitimate son alive and make use of him?
“The Cligrove family and the Marquis are a concern... but with the magic beast dead, there’s no choice. Asher, take the other dogs and go plunder the villages in Lucas’s territory.”
The plunder order fell from his lips. As always, Asher bowed his head without so much as a twitch.
“I shall carry out the command.”
After the letter arrived, relations between Wayne and Kyle soured even further. No, it wasn’t just sour—it was teetering on the brink of all-out war.
Wayne disguised his mercenaries and soldiers as bandits and sent them sneaking into Kyle’s territory. Of course, thanks to the village redevelopment projects, every settlement now had sturdy fences, so the plundering didn’t go as planned.
“Reports are coming in of bandits appearing in villages near Viscount Wayne’s territory, my lord.”
“Wayne’s handiwork, no doubt. What a petty trick.”
The idea was to weaken the enemy before the full territorial war erupted. Kyle clicked his tongue at Wayne’s despicably underhanded tactics but had no intention of letting it slide.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Plunder called for plunder in return. Though... his approach would be a bit different. Ordinary plundering stopped at looting goods, but Kyle had no interest in such pocket change.
What good is swiping a few pennies?
What his territory needed most right now wasn’t money—it was people. Labor. That was why he planned to score big from this plundering spree.
“I don’t get what the lord’s thinking.”
“Raiding only the serfs’ villages and skipping the others... there’s nothing worthwhile there.”
“He said to bring back the serfs! He’s paying a pound per head, so let’s move!”
The mercenaries sprang into action under Kyle’s orders. And even before the territorial war broke out, a fierce war of nerves raged between the two territories.
“Get lost, you bastard dogs of the lord!”
“You shitty Landsknechts not even fit to wipe our asses!”
The Landsknechts weren’t just plundering—they were constantly patrolling the border areas to defend the territory—so Wayne’s mercenaries were in a real bind.
Villages wrapped in fences, mercenaries patrolling nonstop, and those mercenaries happened to be the famed Landsknechts to boot.
The bandits had been told to plunder, not to fight them, so whenever they spotted the patrols, they’d retreat with sour grimaces.
“What are you lot even getting paid for if you can’t manage a simple plunder?!”
Having shelled out good coin for mercenaries with no results, a furious Viscount Wayne tore into his knights, who in turn vented their rage on the mercenaries. It was a hellish chain of beatings.
“Screw this! It’s too damn dirty—I’m out!”
“Me too!”
In the end, the mercenaries couldn’t take it and fled into the night. They’d signed up expecting pay and easy loot, but got neither.
“The mercenaries are deserting.”
“Those lowly scum! That’s why you can’t trust mercenaries!”
He needed mercenaries to prepare for the impending territorial war, but even those were drying up in his territory. And with his own lands getting stripped bare instead, Viscount Wayne’s irritation only mounted.
As the pre-war war of nerves—which had broken out ahead of the territorial conflict—tilted toward victory for Lucas territory, a messenger from Osland arrived for Wayne.
“Greetings, Viscount.”
“Oh! If it isn’t Viscount Reed!”
The Count’s messenger was a viscount of the same rank as Wayne—and an old acquaintance to boot. Wayne, who’d been fuming just moments ago, greeted him with a smile as bright as if nothing had happened.
“Sit! I just got my hands on some fine whiskey—perfect timing!”
Clink!
Golden whiskey poured smoothly into elegant crystal glasses.
“Haha, no need to go to such lengths...”
As the two nobles sipped their drinks and the mood warmed up, their idle chit-chat gradually shifted to the main topic.
Wayne laid out all the troubles he was having dealing with Kyle and emphasized how crucial the Count’s support was. He even mentioned that if he won the territorial war, he’d claim Kyle’s territory for himself.
Viscount Reed opened his mouth with a peculiar expression. He didn’t know if Kyle’s bastard was real, but if she was legitimate, it gave him solid grounds to demand the territory. But how did Wayne plan to claim Lucas’s land? At his question, Viscount Wayne chuckled.
“I uncovered something interesting. Turns out he used to be a hunter in a village near Cligrove. And... he even married the village chief’s daughter. I’ve secured the child she bore him not long ago.”
“You mean you found Viscount Lucas’s bastard... no, his legitimate child?”
This time, it was Viscount Reed’s turn to be shocked. He’d come at Count Osland’s order to placate Wayne, who’d been sending whiny letters nonstop, but this made the situation far bigger than expected.
Now both sides had bastards and were gunning for each other’s territories. Lucas’s side had submitted a letter penned by Wayne himself and a gold medallion engraved with text as evidence, but Wayne wasn’t entirely sure about his own proof.
“Do you have solid evidence?”
“That wench claims she’s his former wife. Says the child’s theirs. She’s young, but...”
Viscount Wayne said this while inwardly flinching. The child was far too young—barely a year old, an infant. And he had no clue if it was really his. The only “proof” was the black eyes.
Still, he’d brought the woman along because she’d spilled details about traits on Lucas’s body. If that shook the enemy, it’d be worth using the crude bastard. He hadn’t held high hopes to begin with—no expectations meant no disappointment.
“I’ll pass it along to the Count for now.”
The two sipped whiskey and chatted about the Count’s support. When Reed departed the territory to return to the Count, he reported what Wayne had told him about Kyle’s bastard.
[To the eternally cursed Viscount Lucas. I already know you’re using a false bastard to threaten me and covet my territory. I yearn to punish your vile scheme at once, but I shall overlook it with my vast magnanimity. However, you should know that I have your bastard in my possession.]
“My bastard?”
What nonsense is this? I stared at Wayne’s letter in bafflement. As if I had some bastard child. I’d never even had a kid. Once the initial shock subsided, I read on and figured out who he was talking about.
[To be precise, it’s not a bastard—it’s your legitimate child. The spawn of that lowly woman befitting your base blood. An unfeeling father blinded by power, abandoning his wife and child. Quite the tale, isn’t it?]
“That damned...”
Only then did I understand what Wayne was getting at. He was talking about that woman I’d all but forgotten. But the part about a child was pure fabrication.
“It’s been years since I slept in separate rooms from her...”
We’d shared a bed briefly right after the wedding, but once she showed her true colors, I hadn’t touched her for years. There was zero chance she’d borne my child.
“Resorting to dirty tricks. Fake bastards on top of plundering.”
I tossed the letter carelessly onto the desk. I knew it was fake anyway, but if this spread across the territory, the ignorant locals and nobles would be thrown into turmoil. Things had come to a mudslinging fight now.
A few days later, that evening, Asher slipped through the mansion’s guards—which had been tightened considerably since the assassination attempt—and came to see me.
“Greetings, Viscount.”
“The outer guards must’ve been tight. You slipped through admirably.”
At my words, he gave a sly smile.
“Which is why I can’t stay long. I knocked out a few to get in. Timed it with the shift change, so escaping the castle should be...”
He’d come to share the intelligence he had. His original orders from the Count were to lead his men and plunder my territory’s villages, but he couldn’t bring himself to just loot the place.
“I have to follow orders, but I’ll keep the damage to a minimum. I’ve mapped out the route my men and I will take, so have your mercenaries patrol those spots in sequence.”
In other words, let’s rig the game. I accepted his proposal. With a spy effectively embedded in Osland and Wayne’s inner circles, the least I could do was play along with this simple charade.
But his words didn’t end there. He spilled everything: what the Count had said lately, how he planned to support Wayne in the territorial war against me. Like unpacking a bundle of gifts.
“Wouldn’t it be wise to request support from Cligrove ahead of time?”
After laying all his intel bare, that’s what he said.