Chapter 100
Chapter 100
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 100
Chapter Title: Traitors' Reckoning
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The corrupt officials who had endlessly chattered, "What should we do about this?" and "Isn't there some clever solution?" no longer gathered in one place.
No, with everything ruined by the very atrocities they had committed, what use were lowly status or personal connections now?
The first to flee upon hearing of the Redskins' invasion was none other than Prime Minister Gregors himself, and the officials were belatedly scrambling to make their escape.
The top priority was securing their wealth.
Without money, how could they cross the perilous borders and find a place to settle elsewhere?
"Gah! Load more! More!"
Corrupt official Mark, on the verge of madness, desperately shoved chests overflowing with jewels onto the carriage, trying to fit one more.
"Agh, master! There's no room left! You need space for the missus and young miss too!"
But with not even enough space for people, there was no way those massive chests could fit.
The coachman, struck by disaster out of a sound sleep, rebelled against his master for the first time in his slave life.
"Get on quick—what are you waiting for!"
Snapping to his senses late, Mark irritably pointed at the luggage-packed carriage toward his wife and only daughter.
Waaah!
His daughter burst into tears at her unfamiliar father's demeanor, while his wife grimaced.
The gentle head of the household was gone, replaced only by a grotesque figure consumed by greed.
"......You go ahead."
"W-what?"
His wife, from a renowned wealthy family, was no pushover.
Clutching her sobbing daughter, she glared at her husband with fierce resolve and shouted.
"Do you think I'm an idiot? This is all because of you and your idiot cronies!"
The former prime minister Gregors and his band of corrupt officials who had dominated the Eastern Kingdom had long since become traitors who had ruined the realm.
Even the more astute noble houses had swiftly cut ties with them, and her own family had secretly contacted her just last night.
Once their identities were exposed, they'd be stoned and pelted with filth by the enraged masses until they died—what reason did she have to follow him?
Determined to protect at least her last remaining daughter, she declared their separation right there.
Mark's eyes turned bloodshot as he frothed at the mouth and screamed.
"You bitch who's lived well off me all this time? Idiot? Fine! Go live without your idiot then. Don't ever show your face to me again!"
Spitting venom even at his own flesh and blood, Mark loaded the remaining chest into the empty spot.
Then, eyes blazing with possessive fury, he kicked the bewildered coachman.
"What are you waiting for—go!"
"Y-yes!"
Crack!
Hiiing!
Just cross the border.
The second prince, who had received countless bribes, surely wouldn't abandon him.
Clutching his treasures like his final lifeline, Mark surrendered his body to the carriage traversing the capital, Dupidia.
Kya-aaah!
Whoosh!
The capital was a vision of hell.
Not only were there endless streams of refugees, but furious citizens were beating nobles to death.
Perhaps it was all their just deserts.
Witnessing the scene through gaps in the carriage, Mark felt a deep pang of regret.
Gulp.
But that regret was fleeting; the raw desire to survive surged up his throat.
Mark kicked the coachman's back once more, pointing to the right path.
"T-that road! Cut through there!"
Heading to the main gate clogged with refugees would mean not escape, but a beating death.
They had a prearranged side route prepared for exactly this—they could slip out safely.
Thud, thud, thud!
Hii-hiiing!
The coachman yanked the reins, veering sharply into the alley.
Only then did Mark relax, leaning back against the seat with a heavy sigh.
Wealth, status, family legacy—how much effort had he poured into achieving it all?
The thought that one wrong choice had cost him everything filled him with bitter remorse for the past.
Overcome by exhaustion, Mark closed his eyes.
And waited for the capital's scenery visible through the window to vanish as quickly as possible.
Thud! Screech!
Purrruk!
But in that instant, the speeding carriage slammed to a halt with emergency brakes.
The horses neighed in fright, and the wheels, unable to bear the weight, twisted sideways.
Bang!
"You useless......!"
How much further was there to go, and already the wheel was broken?
Having jolted his head, Mark flung open the carriage door, ready to curse.
"Mark—Sergei Mark, right?"
"- - - - -?"
But approaching the carriage wasn't the coachman begging forgiveness—it was a burly muscled man.
How did he know? Heart sinking, Mark nodded instinctively.
"Found him, Lady Helena."
"Bring him."
Crack!
The muscled man smashed his fist straight into the face of Mark, who was slowly backing away.
Then, grabbing him roughly by the hair, he dragged him toward Helena.
"You're free to go."
"Th-thank you."
As promised, the coachman who had halted the horses jumped down and fled in terror.
Helena, stepping aside to let him pass, approached Mark and punched him square in the face.
Thwack!
"Gahk, urk!"
Blood flowed with shattered teeth.
Unable to comprehend, Mark begged through tears and snot.
"Sp-spare me! Please, urk!"
Thwack!
But Helena swung her fist with cold rage, unperturbed.
Once, twice, three times—until all his molars were gone, she asked.
"Why did you do it?"
"Urgh......"
"You're human too. Right? What reason could justify going this far?"
What was money, what was mere power, to drive innocents to death?
Tears streaming down her expressionless face, Helena wanted to hear the reason from the traitors' own mouths.
"I-I didn't know it'd end like this...... I didn't expect it to turn out this way!"
As expected, his excuses were nothing but self-justification.
Yet Helena smiled faintly, as if this cowardice was precisely what she hoped to hear.
"Thank you—for staying trash to the end."
Others in matching hoods doused the carriage with foul-smelling oil.
And Mark, dumped beside it, was drenched too.
"A-ah......!"
The foolish official sensed his fate.
If there was no hell, then the fiery pit of retribution in this life from avengers.
The last thing Mark saw was countless vengeful spirits staring with cold eyes, and a single match flying toward the blaze.
Whoosh!
Kaaaah!
A man burned alive.
Helena, watching silently, addressed the Crow Unit members.
"On to the next target."
Late vengeance was all the sweeter.
Starting with Mark, the Crows signaled the dawn of retribution, circling the corpse before vanishing.
The first prince, once holder of the largest territory and the second prince's sole rival, began to decline rapidly.
With the colonies he'd monopolized completely blockaded, he no longer had the strength to sustain his massive domain.
Reducing forces would invite the first prince's aggression, yet maintaining them risked bankruptcy.
Torn by financial woes, the second prince pressed on with the precarious civil war, expanding both territorial and personal debts.
'Redskin invasion of the East.'
But as if fate refused to let him die, a bombshell exploded from the East, where he'd long awaited opportunity.
The Redskins, hired to suppress rebels, had finally revolted.
A chance to erase Northern Kingdom influence.
Resolved to reclaim the trade routes, the second prince marched east with his conscripted army.
Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Thoom!
Step! Step! Step! Step!
'Full speed march!'
Aware of the power disparity, the Northern Kingdom had avoided open battle thus far.
With such a vast force arrayed, they would surely hole up in the White Gate and not emerge.
No—they had to stay put.
"Y-your Majesty! Northern troops!"
Doong! Doong! Doong!
Roooar!
Defying all expectations, countless Northern soldiers stood arrayed before the White Gate.
Under the great White-Horned Deer banner signaling the Knight King's presence, no less.
"......Damn it."
This was no mere show of force.
The Northern army, clearly mustered with every reserve, was prepared for full-scale war.
What was the East to them, worth staking the kingdom's fate? Head throbbing, the second prince spurred forward with a minimal guard.
Clop, clop, clop, clop!
The Knight King, perhaps open to parley, rode out with his own guards.
The two armies, divided across the plain, watched the fateful summit in tense silence.
"Pleased to meet you, Knight King."
"The pleasure is mine, Second Prince."
This was their first face-to-face.
But both kings masked their expressions upon sensing extraordinary auras from each other.
This was no friendly gathering anyway.
With formalities done, the impatient second prince cut to the chase.
"The current situation is most regrettable, Knight King. My army and I merely wish to pass through—why block the way?"
This was disputed territory.
With borders unsettled, no one had the right to bar passage.
"To stop an attack, naturally."
But the Knight King replied with a bright smile, as if questioning the nonsense.
Behind that innocence lay ironclad will piercing the situation.
'We will not open the path to the East.'
Regaining his icy expression, the second prince dropped minimal courtesy toward the king.
"......On what grounds?"
"To aid our allies."
"An alliance long broken, no?"
"Shaken only by traitors."
This was no longer the groveling North of old.
The black-haired Knight King stood tall, proclaiming the Steel Alliance's unbreakable bond to the world.
"The Steel Alliance is eternal!"
Roooar!
The Northern army roared once more, declaring their battle intent toward the foe.
Flags whipped in the wind, weapons clashed—the hastily conscripted second prince's forces wilted instead.
Grind!
His royal dignity was wounded. With no room to retreat, the second prince gnashed his teeth.
"Distinguish bravado from courage, Knight King! Do you think you have the capacity to expand the front? Withdraw your army now!"
The North lacked strength for open war.
Believing this, the second prince amplified his voice with aura for all Northern troops to hear.
"Northern army—!"
But Snow-Covered ignored the threat, infusing her own voice with aura.
The king's sword raised skyward was clearly the signal to prepare attack.
Bwoooo!
The prince fled in horror.
The orc army, unprepared for massive war, panicked naturally, their commanders sweating coldly too.
And that day, the prince remembered.
The most dangerous foe on the battlefield was one resolved to die there today.
"For our Northern motherland!"
"Raaaah!"
The peaceful plain turned white as the Northern army launched a unified charge.
Leading the vanguard was the great Knight King, his long black hair streaming in the wind.