Chapter 107
Chapter 107
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 107
Chapter Title: The Perfect Scapegoat
-----------------------------------------------------------------
In this world, it was everyday fare for nobles to lay hands on women.
The targets didn't discriminate between commoners or fellow nobles.
Of course, they couldn't just carelessly touch the daughters of great noble houses. Mess with the daughter of a family higher and more prominent than your own, and you might not just lose your head—you could lose your dick too.
But would guys who were in heat 365 days a year, cocks popping up at the drop of a hat, bother with such distinctions? If they did, there'd be no rapists in the world.
That's why there were more cases than you'd think of houses getting utterly destroyed after some idiot molested a lady from a great noble family.
Fuck around with your lower half recklessly, and you'll end up ruined—no matter where you go.
But it's also a fact that, reckless or not, there are always those who face no consequences and pay no price.
And those are usually the ones with tremendous 'power.'
In this world, that meant the great noble houses.
The direct descendants of great noble houses could swing their dicks at any woman—barring the tiny handful from similarly 'ranked' families—without a care.
Hell, even if a man targeted another man, or a woman another woman, the only fallout was a hit to their reputation from the unintended coming-out. No other issues.
But Jaice Galen, the one who'd tried to rape Stella, had been caught red-handed and ended up with multiple fractures and temporary hearing loss on top of it all.
That was a truly 'massive' problem in this world.
So Jaice Galen, who had passed out for a full day and a half after getting beaten half to death while drunk, finally woke up in a rage.
"I'll kill them all! I'll fucking kill every last one!"
The moment he came to, Jaice howled through tears, wracked by pain throbbing through his entire body.
"Urgh! Send word to Sauden right now! How dare they... How dare they do this to me—Jaice, direct descendant of the Galens and proxy lord of Sauden? I'll make them regret it until they die. No, even after they die."
Wrapped head to toe in linen bandages, Jaice ground his teeth furiously.
But something about the atmosphere felt off.
The Sauden nobles around him weren't chiming in with worried support. They just stood there silently, not saying a word.
"Lords, what are you doing? Even if you usually look down on me, this is too much, isn't it? I'm the proxy lord of Sauden. On a small scale, your representative; on a grand one, the voice of Sauden itself."
"Yes, that's true."
"But why—"
"You little shit! Because you represent us and Sauden!"
A thunderous roar drowned out Jaice's voice.
Pedro bellowed at Jaice, who froze with eyes wide in shock, bloodshot eyes spraying spit.
"What you did has made this our responsibility—ours and Sauden's! You fucking moron!"
"W-What... What the hell are you—"
Splash!
Ignoring Jaice's stammering, Pedro yanked open the window curtains right beside the bed where Jaice lay.
He grabbed Jaice by the collar, forcing his upper body upright, and snarled.
"You idiot, look out there. See what your fuckup—done in Sauden's name—has wrought. Take a good look."
"Urk! Gah!"
Pedro dragged Jaice's face toward the window, heedless of his grievous injuries.
"Urgh! This... huh...?"
Jaice's pain-twisted grimace slackened into stupidity for a moment.
Anyone would react the same.
Spotting countless black coffins lined up in the broad courtyard would stun anyone.
"They're all dead. Every last soldier we brought from Sauden—wiped out. Those worthless knights got riled up trying to cover for your bullshit and charged in. All dead because of you. Because of you!"
"Indeed. Because of the proxy lord."
"All this happened because of Sir Jaice Galen."
The other nobles piled on heavily, as if they'd been waiting for their cue.
"Uh... Urrgh... I-I... Th-This can't be..."
Faced with a reality that felt utterly unreal, Jaice's mind blanked out.
The only thing floating in his head was the words from everyone present: 'because of you.'
'Worked like a charm, didn't it?'
'Looks like it. Whew, what a relief.'
As things unfolded exactly as planned, Pedro and the nobles exchanged quiet glances of relief.
The Demon King's words had been spot on.
No witnesses, no crime.
Sure, in this case there were a few witnesses (and survivors), but they were all on the same side.
Which meant they could pin the blame for the entire mess on the true instigator—the biggest idiot of them all.
The perfect crime, complete.
"The Fland mayor and the Sion Dukedom's handler have shown mercy, allowing you and us to return to Sauden. You'll have to answer for this disaster back home, Proxy Lord Jaice Galen."
Thud. Thud. Thud.
With that cold declaration, Pedro and the Sauden nobles turned and left without a backward glance.
"Huergh... Huuugh... Urrrgh..."
All that remained in the bedroom were the beastly groans leaking from Jaice, overwhelmed by panic for the first time in his life.
* * *
"You go to Sauden, Blaho."
"Yes!? M-Me, sir?"
Blaho jumped at Sion's words.
Stella had gone briefly to Shionia on a mission to transport monster byproducts. Upon receiving Sion's urgent dispatch, she'd rushed back to Fland with Blaho and five hundred troops.
Blaho had arrived brimming with killing intent, only to fall speechless at the sight of the over hundred coffins in Fland castle's underground.
He hadn't imagined every single one of Sauden's 'swordsmen' would be dead.
But anyone could see this was justified self-defense.
It wasn't even their own country. Sneaking troops into a foreign city without permission (no one bought Jaice's flimsy excuse about 'permission') was bad enough. But their leader commits an atrocity, then tries to occupy the castle to hush it up?
If word got out, Sauden and the Galen Count family would suffer the worst humiliation in their history—maybe even get expelled from the Guslander Kingdom.
But in exchange for quietly covering it up, Sion decided to pass on a few demands to Sauden and the Galen Counts.
No one questioned Sion's decision; he'd always delivered the best outcomes.
Still, someone had to go to Sauden to handle the negotiations, and few were up to the task.
Sion saw Blaho as the perfect man for it.
"B-But sir, if I may—I'm a knight first and foremost. Negotiations aren't exactly my strong suit."
Blaho didn't want to go to Sauden. Or rather, he just wanted to stay by Sion's side.
Training and sparring with Sion made him stronger in real time!
Even with ugly bruises and hairline fractures, he healed in just three or four days now!
For a born knight like Blaho, being by Sion's side was practically paradise.
He'd wanted to follow when Sion headed south to hunt monsters.
But becoming Sparrowhawk Unit captain piled on so much work that he'd tearfully given up.
Now that he'd handled the urgent tasks (by half-begging, half-threatening two knights who'd served as his aides in the Black Eagle Legion to take over), he was thrilled at the prospect of fighting excitedly beside his revered hero.
And now this bolt from the blue!
"No one else can go but you. Or rather, only you can handle it properly."
"Wha... May I ask why, sir? No matter how I think about it, I'm the last guy suited for negotiations."
"Ha! Listen to this guy. I heard all about how you handled that first meeting with Fyodor—what are you talking about?"
"..."
Blaho clamped his mouth shut. He couldn't very well say now, 'Truth is, I was running on full brainpower then. My head still hurts.'
"And you're misunderstanding something. What you'll do in Sauden isn't negotiating."
"Pardon...?"
"It's delivering our demands and forcing them through as-is. No negotiations, no bullshit."
"But won't the Sauden noble heads rebel? The Galen Counts too."
"They might. But the guys you're bringing will keep them in check to some extent."
"Ah..."
Blaho was taking Pedro Piel and the handful of Sauden survivors.
The castle staff said that when they were alone, they called Sion the 'Demon King' out of sheer terror.
Once back in Sauden, those guys—consumed by abject fear—would vividly convey the 'Fland Massacre.'
They sure as hell wouldn't want to go through it again.
"There's only one wildcard on this mission."
"They try to overpower us..."
"Exactly. Grab us hostage and negotiate. Spinning some nonsense to excuse what Jaice Galen and those three beast cubs did."
"But with their entire Fland force wiped out, surely they won't try something that reckless, right, Grandfather?"
Fyodor ventured cautiously.
Sion smirked.
"Fyodor, isn't it about time you learned? How ignorant and narrow-minded those lifelong frogs-in-a-well are—especially the nobles."
"...Your grandson was foolish."
"Those stagnant old Sauden waters will nine times out of ten refuse to believe what happened here at face value. 'They must've had ambitions.' 'Cowardly tricks.' 'Fallen into a plot.' That's what they'll think. And then they'll have only one move left. So."
Sion eyed Blaho, whose face now carried the seasoned look of a veteran knight and peak Swordmaster.
"That's why you—the strongest in our dukedom after me—have to go."
"Quite right, sir. Se-Cond! Strongest! To! Sion! Sir! I, Jordin Blaho, will force our demands through and return victorious!"
Suppressing a grin tugging at his lips, the level 99 cap Swordmaster—at level 51 already—replied with maximum gravity.
* * *
"Shove off."
At Blaho's order, Jaice—his spirit broken to near catatonia—boarded a boat with Pedro, who'd withered away gauntly in days, and the other Sauden nobles.
Of the two boats at the small harbor behind the castle, one carried a separate crew of ten handpicked Sparrowhawk Unit members.
The boats drifted slowly from the harbor, and some ten minutes later, their passengers boarded the Sauden ships.
Toot! Toot! Toot!
The long horn blasts echoed three times.
Sauden's fleet, five ships strong on arrival, now sailed home as a single vessel.
From Fland castle's high spire, Sion watched the dwindling sails of the Sauden ship—a frigate somewhere between caravel and carrack, though he didn't know the distinction—and twisted his lips.
"Wonder how Sauden will play this. Doesn't matter, though—they'll have to cough up their ships and shipbuilding tech either way."