Chapter 70
Chapter 70
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: Phantom Thief Dauphin (13) - Violence Without Pride
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Originally, Count Sarunos had no intention of getting involved in the affairs of Levruk.
It wasn't out of any respect for the local autonomy of the site, of course. His interests were simply focused elsewhere.
The political struggles unfolding within the court.
The division within the Virka royal family presented a golden opportunity for the marquis and count houses, which boasted the kingdom's greatest influence. The faction that successfully elevated their supported candidate to the throne would be rewarded with a position truly one below the king and above all others.
No, it might even be possible to go beyond that—to turn the royal family into puppets and effectively rule the country.
So what if it was just one more middling nation scattered across the continent?
So what if becoming the head of a poorly managed state held little meaning?
Those were empty words.
For those in power, craving even greater power was akin to instinct.
Even in a remote noble house or a minor business, fierce struggles erupted over leadership. How much more so for an entire kingdom?
"No matter what it takes, we will win and force that beastly Marquis Redbell to kneel!!"
On top of that, Count Sarunos had more than enough personal motivation.
His connection with Marquis Redbell dated back to their days as heirs before inheriting their houses, but at that time, the gap in their positions was so vast it was meaningless to compare them.
Unlike the Redbell marquis house, which had a long history but had fallen into utter decline, the Sarunos count house was renowned even then as the kingdom's strongest warrior clan.
But Marquis Redbell had seized the crumbling house by the hair with demonic cunning and audacity, dragging it back up by force. Before long, the marquis house—once thought destined to fade into history's shadows—had grown to rival the Sarunos counts.
Same age. Both among the kingdom's top powerhouses.
Yet one had simply inherited from his parents, while the other was a self-made man who rose through his own abilities.
Throughout the kingdom—even Sarunos's own parents—people compared the count and the marquis. Every time, Count Sarunos ground his teeth at the mention of Redbell.
After succeeding in landing a political blow on Marquis Redbell, he became addicted to the thrill, neglecting house affairs and devoting himself day after day to scheming with court nobles.
The count house retainers felt deeply uneasy about their lord's behavior.
In their eyes, their master was someone far removed from sly plots or intricate political maneuvers.
He possessed the bare minimum refinement expected of a noble house head, but he was no match for a marquis who surely harbored hundreds of schemes in his belly.
‘Wouldn’t it be more effective to pressure him with our traditional Sarunos martial might instead of half-heartedly dabbling in politics?’
‘In gambling, you let the sucker win just enough to hook them on victory.’
‘He’s not deliberately losing to draw the lord deeper into politics, is he?’
There were suspicions, but no one dared raise them to the count.
There was no solid evidence to back mere doubts, and besides, the count was never one to heed his retainers’ advice.
What if they provoked him while he was clearly immersed in political intrigue, and his rage exploded in the wrong direction? Who would handle the fallout?
Losing their position might be survivable, but given the count’s hot-tempered nature, there was even a risk of literal beheading.
Thanks to the retainers’ cautious self-preservation, Count Sarunos could immerse himself in court politics undisturbed. With the top authority figure ignoring the territory, even a phantom thief rampaging in the domain elicited only sluggish responses.
But there were limits to everything.
“I hear you’ve been quite busy lately with some thief causing trouble. I pray the situation calms soon.”
“Pardon? Ah, yes, of course.”
When Levruk’s power brokers got no reaction from the count house despite their pleas, they changed tactics, leaking the news to court nobles who often mingled with the count. While enjoying a polo match, the count heard, “Your territory’s a mess lately, huh?” His mood plummeted instantly.
The retainers welcoming their lord home after so long had to shrink back at the sudden outburst.
“You can’t even handle one lousy thief, forcing me to hear about it from those court bastards?! What the hell have you all been doing?!”
“S-sorry—gahk!”
Crash! Thwack!
Only after smashing furniture and beating one retainer’s head bloody with an ashtray did the count finally calm down. Slumping indifferently into his chair, he addressed his retainers.
“Dauphin, Dauphin. The second time I’ve heard that name. Didn’t I tell the guard captain to handle it discreetly since I’m paying attention? Did my words not reach the lower ranks properly?”
“No such thing, my lord—we relayed it perfectly! The guards are burning with determination to catch him!”
“Then why is that fly still buzzing around my territory? Never mind. Excuses will just dirty my ears.”
Whatever the cause or process, none of that mattered.
What mattered was that a mere thief had wounded the pride of one of the kingdom’s top powerhouses—the count himself.
“Summon the knight order commander. I’ll order him to bring that Dauphin’s head before me.”
No lower department ever welcomes audits from above.
Especially not when they have something to hide.
Thus, as the Sarunos Knight Order’s visit drew near, the Levruk guard company commander pushed his men to the brink.
Cleaning was basic basics. Dull armor or weapons earned questions about your parents’ health. Holidays and duties be damned—everyone had to attend the welcome ceremony in full armor, no exceptions.
“Welcome, knights. You must be tired from the long journey. Please, this way. I’ll guide you.”
The guards inwardly clicked their tongues at their commander’s constant bowing to the knights.
His transparent intent to curry favor and minimize scolding was all too obvious.
Yet some understood him. Better to bend fully than stiffen your neck and invite wrath.
But whether they viewed the commander positively or negatively, all were stunned by what happened next.
Thwack!
A knight’s fist sent the commander flying backward, blood streaming from his face.
As guards and onlookers gaped, the knight casually approached, grabbed the collar, and unleashed a barrage of punches.
Each sickening crunch of mangled flesh made the commander’s limbs convulse like a seizure, white shards like corn kernels spilling from his mouth to the ground.
“W-what are you doing?!”
Dahlia rushed forward in protest, but the knight continued silently, his fellow knights watching impassively.
As Dahlia moved to physically intervene, a voice came from the knights’ flank.
An elderly man in guard-like attire, standing at the forefront, spoke up.
“Levruk platoon leader? Stay out of it.”
“But…!”
“That’s an order from the battalion commander. You plan to defy your superior?”
“Battalion commander” stirred murmurs among the guards.
Their overall commander.
Those who didn’t recognize him shot glances at those who did, who nodded bitterly in confirmation.
A knight assaulting a mid-level guard officer, with the guard’s top commander ordering onlookers to stand by. An absurd scene.
While Dahlia froze in confusion, the figure in the most ornate armor among the knights spoke.
“Enough.”
“Yes, sir.”
The assailant stopped instantly. The commander’s body slumped limply to the ground.
He was barely breathing, but his gauntlet-pummeled face was crushed beyond recognition.
The brutality left everyone frozen, but the orchestrator—the Sarunos Knight Order commander—paid it no mind.
No, he seemed to relish the atmosphere, scanning the crowd before speaking in a haughty tone.
“Effective immediately, Levruk Guard Company’s commander is dismissed and expelled from the guard. Until a new one is appointed, Battalion Commander Bover here will assume command. Normally, the entire guard would be punished for failing to catch a mere thief and disturbing His Lordship’s mood, but by His Lordship’s merciful judgment, only the responsible party is punished. Remember this grace well.”
No reply came.
Not out of defiance, but terror of drawing attention by speaking.
The commander hadn’t expected a response anyway; he didn’t even glance at Dahlia or the guards as he turned away.
Heading naturally toward the upper district, he clearly had no intention of mingling with the likes of guards.
“Ugh… ah…”
The ex-commander.
No—now not even a guard—a man sobbed through mangled lips, tears streaming from his eyes.
Unable to rise alone, yet none of the guards approached; they all averted their gazes.
Even the platoon leaders who once fawned for favor did the same.
In the end, Dahlia stepped forward to support the former commander.
Grind.
She clenched her teeth.
She had few good memories of the commander herself, but she couldn’t accept this public, showy beating and abandonment like a rag in the street.
Making an example? Laughable.
This was just crude venting.
They couldn’t handle one thief, so they dragged us here—and now beat him under the guise of punishment.
Dahlia gazed at the departing Sarunos Knight Order.
Armor gleaming in the sunlight.
March precise and disciplined.
Elite of elites, forged by pouring the house’s scraped-together wealth into the territory over generations—designed to awe all with Sarunos’s dignity and might.
To Dahlia’s eyes, their impressive facade rang hollow, like cheap imitations.
Strength without honor, pride, or mercy was nothing but a tool of terror and oppression.