Chapter 64
Chapter 64
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 64
Chapter Title: The Patriarch's Judgment
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“We must head to Sionia first thing tomorrow.”
“You are right. Waiting any longer is pointless, Governor.”
The Knightly Clans and local magnates from around Paloma who followed Gede raised their voices.
The third scout party sent to check on the situation in Sionia had yet to return. Their patience was reaching its limit.
“…….”
But Gede remained lost in thought, unable to give an easy answer.
The fact that the scouts had not returned and that there had been no response from Sionia or Three-Headed Eagle Castle for three days was undoubtedly strange.
However, it could be within the margin of error, as the high nobles of Three-Headed Eagle Castle might be caught in endless debates, unable to decide on a course of action.
Yet the true reason Gede was deep in contemplation lay elsewhere.
‘They should have joined us by yesterday at the latest. What in the world happened?’
The mercenaries sent by his in-laws, the Count Pamell family, had still not arrived.
He had sent a steward as a guide, so it was impossible for them to have lost their way within the dukedom.
That left only one answer: something had happened in the Silent Forest.
But that too was unlikely.
‘Count Pamell hired wandering elves. Getting lost in the forest makes no sense.’
Had they encountered a mid-to-large monster in the forest?
Even then, total annihilation was impossible. At least half should have pushed through the forest and joined up by now.
The same held true even if they had clashed with the North Mountain Elf Rangers who roamed the forest like their own backyard.
Rangers operated in small elite groups and never gathered in numbers exceeding ten.
If the elf rangers had spotted the troops and taken action, Sionia would be in an uproar by now, but there was still no movement. That meant they had not been detected by the elf rangers.
Moreover, even in the worst-case scenario, at least a few should have survived, linked up with the steward, and made it here.
‘Then what the hell is it?’
Gede’s chest tightened as he listened to the knights and Knightly Clans pressing him with stiff expressions.
“Make a decision.”
All eyes turned to Gede.
Letting out a long internal sigh, Gede raised his head.
“One day. Let us wait just one more day.”
“Governor.”
“I will send out one final scout party. If there is no change or news by noon tomorrow… we march.”
The plan had gone awry, but it was still manageable.
There was no movement from Sionia, and the regions held by the other direct descendants were quiet as well.
This meant it had no impact on the bigger picture.
At Gede’s words, the Knightly Clans exchanged glances. It was not entirely to their liking, but it was acceptable.
“A wise decision.”
“Haha! Now everything will proceed according to plan.”
“I am glad you are satisfied. Have the soldiers prepare in advance and get a good rest tonight.”
“Understood.”
“Have a pleasant evening.”
The knights and Knightly Clans left Gede’s tent with visibly relaxed faces.
“Father.”
His eldest son, Hozart, who had stood silently until then, approached Gede.
“They are greedy fools. Do not let it trouble you.”
“You are right. But even such men judged that the path to Sion lay with me, not Blint. We cannot afford to appear weak.”
“Of course. However….”
Though they were alone, Hozart glanced around the tent before continuing in a low voice.
“Once the grand plan is complete, should we not deal with them as well? It would not hurt to select a few candidates now.”
“I have already selected them. Do not worry.”
Hozart grinned with an “I knew it!” expression at Gede’s words.
“In any case, we need the support of those high nobles as well as the Knightly Clans. Without absolute royal authority like King Obla’s, it is unavoidable.”
“Sigh… It is truly frustrating. Why did the founder disperse power like this? A strong monarch and obedient, capable vassals would suffice.”
Hozart spoke with a lament.
As he said, the power structure of the Sion Dukedom differed not only from other territories but even from Obla Castle.
Though the duke’s authority was vast and strong, practical decisions were often made directly by the ministers called high nobles, with reports merely sent to the duke.
This structure had been established by the founder, Duke Jang Sion, and the second duke, Jang Theo.
“The Hundred Household Captains are the same. Either grant them fiefs and make them proper knights, or abolish them altogether. This half-measure is absurd. How long must we endure these non-knights strutting about as retainers….”
The families of Hundred Household Captains called Knightly Clans were a unique class found only in the dukedom.
Initially leaders and militia captains of each village, bearing both authority and duty, most had over time become lords of villages or towns that had grown larger than before.
Their authority and duties had diminished, but their wealth and influence had grown.
Hozart did not like it.
To Gede, Hozart, and not a few ‘Sions,’ the true ruling class of the dukedom consisted only of themselves and a handful of high noble families who had followed Princess Stella long ago.
During Duke Jang Sion’s reign, it was said the Hundred Household Captains could not even raise their heads before the duke.
But now?
The Knightly Clans were boldly pressuring Gede, the soon-to-be duke above.
Gede… ‘Sion’ was having to watch their moods and placate them.
“Bear with it a little longer. Once I ascend, it will be resolved. By the time you succeed me, the dukedom will be great once more. Ten years at the shortest, twenty at the longest.”
“I apologize, Father. I will strive to make it so.”
Hozart quickly bowed his head. But his heart pounded fiercely.
In as little as ten years, he would become Duke Sion!
“By the way, Father. What do you plan to do with that woman? She is the only one who knows about the poison, so should we not dispose of her immediately…?”
“If her deeds are exposed, we will have ample justification to sentence her to death. Even if she did not bear the duke’s child herself, we cannot let a witch who poisoned two of the duke’s legitimate sons go unpunished—her husband or not.”
This was precisely why Gede remained unshaken despite the mercenaries from Count Pamell failing to join and the scouts not returning from Sionia.
Gede knew that Blint’s birth mother, Katrina Bello, had poisoned her husband—the previous duke, Brian Sion—and the legitimate sons born to the principal wife.
If this fact came to light, Blint’s legitimacy would collapse entirely.
“Then… you do not intend to reveal the rest?”
Hozart’s voice grew sly.
The mother had poisoned her husband and the heirs.
And the child was not the blood of the deceased duke.
Moreover, Blint himself was unaware, and only Katrina, Gede, and Hozart knew.
Because it was Gede and Hozart who had arranged for Katrina to conceive from another man.
“The knight who sowed the seed is dead too. Unless that madwoman opens her mouth herself, only Father and I know that story, right?”
“Hmm. What are you trying to say?”
Though he guessed his son’s intent, Gede feigned ignorance and asked indirectly.
Hozart’s eyes gleamed with a sticky desire, though not quite as intense as his ambition for the dukedom.
“How about sentencing her to death and then quietly imprisoning her in some remote place in Paloma? With her life in our grasp, we could seize the Bello family’s wealth, could we not? Her father and brother would not shamelessly pretend ignorance after their daughter committed such an atrocity.”
He used wealth as pretext, but Gede knew what Hozart truly coveted and smiled.
“You rascal. How many times have I told you? A monarch is shameless. Be honest about your desire for the dukedom—and for women. I do not view it poorly.”
“Ah… haha, my apologies.”
Hozart scratched his head sheepishly.
Indeed. Though she was a second wife, Hozart had lusted after his uncle—the duke’s—wife.
And Gede was no different.
Twisted jealousy and inferiority toward his frail but brilliant brother Brian had ignited his desire for his sister-in-law.
The father and son both intended to claim Katrina, the seductive beauty whose appearance and figure belied her mid-thirties age.
“And Father. I will handle that base-blooded cur myself. It seems we cannot leave it to others.”
Hozart loathed Blint to the point of hatred.
And for good reason: Hozart knew whose seed Blint was.
A fake Sion who strutted about as the duke’s son and cousin, even before him who was over ten years older—what an eyesore those past dozen-plus years had been!
He had endured for the sake of his father and the family’s grand plan, but now it was over.
“Mm. Quite right. For such vital matters, you must handle it personally to avoid loose ends.”
“Of course.”
He had induced the poisoning of his own brother and nephews.
The father and son sought to share the sister-in-law who had committed an outrage against heaven and earth.
Though not by blood, he had lived as nephew and cousin for over a decade, yet he planned to kill him.
Even so, the father and son felt no qualms.
- Great Sion
This conviction had completely eroded their consciences and made it righteous.
The elect’s belief that only they could make Sion great had turned the two into monsters.
But the two monsters did not know.
That someone was silently watching them.
“Then rest early, Father.”
“Yes. Tomorrow, a new era will dawn. You and I will make Sion great once more….”
“Shut your cocksucking mouths and drop dead.”
The father and son’s bodies froze at the voice laced with a beastly low-frequency growl.
* * *
After re-registering Three-Headed Eagle Castle as his base and accepting those who still held loyalty into his clan, Sion realized one fact.
The various skills he had learned long ago simply to avoid dying again.
Those techniques, learned at the risk of his life from masters or murderers of the era, were ‘skills.’
Moreover, the masters who had taught him those skills were all top experts in their fields, and Sion had used the skills learned from those ‘masters’ to kill most of them.
He had surpassed his masters.
Among those Sion surpassed, the one who died most satisfied, praising his disciple Sion, was the era’s assassination king known as Black Night.
When wiping out the wandering elves and mercenaries sent by Count Pamell in the Silent Forest, Sion had used some of Black Night’s skills.
But with so many eyes watching, he could not reveal everything.
He showed just enough to suggest that his elf warriors and allies were proficient in infiltration and ambushes.
However, today.
With no companions and resolved to kill everyone within a 300-meter radius if needed, there was no call for restraint.
Thus, Sion had entered the encampment where countless knights and soldiers resided, leaving no trace or presence.
He knocked out the two guards at the tent while they stood.
Then revealed himself to the two vermin worse than beast cubs.
“Wh-who are you?”
“Father!”
Gede hesitated, and Hozart drew his sword to stand by his father.
The father and son glared at the intruder, who sat casually in a chair with legs crossed.
His impassively calm face was astonishingly youthful. But their surprise at the young face was fleeting.
The young, handsome features evoked one person in their minds.
That one no direct descendant of the Sion ducal family could fail to recognize.
“Wh-what…!?”
“No way….”
Sion, who had silently watched the stunned father and son, slowly rose.
“I had intended to hear any excuses first, at least. After all, you are of my blood.”
Saaaa…
The air in the sealed tent, impervious to wind, trembled.
It was no illusion or mere sensation.
It is said that a tiger’s roar contains low frequencies, paralyzing animals or humans upon hearing.
Sion had learned this from one of his masters and called it ‘Killing Intent,’ using it to great effect over many years.
But after realizing skills existed through messages, he learned the truth.
Killing Intent was low frequency, producible not by voice but by the movement of his entire body’s muscles—or cells.
Humans freeze or collapse upon receiving infrasound detectable by the ear.
And Sion’s Killing Intent, redefined as a ‘skill,’ turned the father—not low in knightly attainment—into a statue unable even to speak.
“Vermin like you, worse than beast cubs, are no descendants of mine.”
“……!!!”
Realizing who he was from his face and words, the father and son merely worked their slightly parted lips.
Their widely opened eyes, filled with disbelief, saw Sion’s form blur for an instant.
Sion’s body brushed past the father and son, rife with shock, confusion, and denial.
Two heads slid off, leaving eerie cross-sections, and rolled across the floor.
“…….”
Sion stared silently for a moment at the severed heads, eyes wide and tongues lolling long.
Then he squatted there.
His spotless shortsword sliced off their tongues one by one.
Clutching the tongues, Sion slowly clenched his fist.
Splurt.
The two tongues, which had so casually spewed vile words, burst disgustingly.
Picking up the headless tongues, Sion vanished from the tent as quietly as he had come—like a shadow.
The next morning.
At the entrance to the Paloma forces’ encampment hung the father and son’s heads impaled on long spears.
(To be continued)