Chapter 219: Count Rondon (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 219: Count Rondon (4)
Early morning.
Count Rondon boarded his carriage without delay.
Although his meeting with the Golden Bank was scheduled within the same city, he could hardly transport one hundred thousand gold coins on foot. The carriage jolted violently every time it passed over the uneven roads. Decades of poor budget management had left Redford's capital in a deplorable state; despite being the seat of power, it resembled little more than a rundown rural town.
Inside the carriage, Count Rondon stared blankly at the chests of gold.
He had secured this money with great difficulty, putting up his own lands and family heirlooms as collateral. It was the lifeline needed to pull his country back from the brink of ruin.
Those who knew the truth called Count Rondon a madman.
If he simply stepped back and ignored the country's harsh reality, he could live a life of absolute comfort regardless of whether Redford survived or burned. The Kronos Empire was exceedingly generous to defectors. Had he turned his back on his homeland and pledged allegiance to the Empire, he wouldn't have to endure such hardship.
He knew this better than anyone.
Merchants were quick to calculate profit and loss, but there were some things in this world a man simply had to do, even at his own expense.
'The debt to the Golden Bank is just the beginning. With this as a turning point, I will reshape the very landscape of Redford.'
Once the debt was cleared, he would seek out the King.
If the King refused to make the right choice for the nation this time, Rondon was prepared to overthrow the crown, even if it meant becoming the traitor everyone already accused him of being. Until now, he had firmly suppressed any thoughts of rebellion. But just a few days ago, he had secured the consent of the Prince—the rightful heir to the throne—regarding this very matter.
"Count Rondon. This country has been pushed to the edge of a cliff. If my father's rule will directly lead to the ruin of this nation, then as the one born with the duty to inherit it, I must make a decision for the sake of Redford."
In truth, the King of Redford had not always been a hopeless wreck.
Before falling into the vice of gambling addiction, he had been a warm, deeply compassionate ruler. The people had respected and followed him sincerely, but a tragic accident several years ago had shattered his mind. Of the King's three children—two sons and a daughter—the eldest son had died in a horseback riding accident. Not long after, the youngest daughter, unable to cope with her brother's death, hanged herself.
One tragedy after another.
The King plummeted into despair.
Drowning his sorrows in alcohol day after day, he eventually sought a new escape in the gambling dens.
The thrill of winning money.
That intense, fleeting stimulation washed away the grief of losing his children—and quickly became a shackle from which the King of Redford could never escape.
For that reason, Count Rondon did not want to give up on his King until the bitter end.
Setting aside the fear that a rebellion might allow opportunists to tear the country apart, he simply found the idea of pointing a blade at his King difficult to swallow. But he had reached his absolute limit. Now that he had gone so far as to borrow money from the Dmitry family to pay off the Golden Bank, if this final opportunity was squandered on yet another mountain of debt, Redford would plunge off the cliff forever.
Rebellion.
His feelings were a tangled mess. Memories of the past cluttered his mind.
It was then.
Rattle! Rattle!
The carriage shook violently.
With the frantic neighing of horses, the vehicle ground to a sudden halt, and a massive commotion erupted outside.
"Protect the carriage!"
"Attack!"
The shouts of the knights rang out. In an instant, the world outside the carriage descended into pure chaos.
* * *
On the wide road.
At a quiet hour when foot traffic was still sparse, people poured out from every alleyway, charging forward all at once.
"Attack!"
"The gold coins are inside!"
There were hundreds of them. Their eyes gleamed with raw, unadulterated greed.
Though they were dressed in rags and carried crude weapons, their sheer numbers filled the street, throwing the soldiers of the Rondon family into a panic. The soldiers hastily raised their shields. They huddled close to protect one another, entirely unprepared for an ambush in the very heart of Redford's capital.
And then, the mob crashed into them.
Seeing the frenzied crowd swarming right before his eyes, a knight of the Rondon family flared his Aura and roared.
Rumble!
"Protect the carriage!"
"Kill them!"
The battle had begun.
The moment the soldiers clashed with the mob, dozens of people screamed in agony. The attackers wore shabby clothes, lacking even basic leather armor. The soldiers' spears and swords sliced through their thin garments, taking lives in an instant, but the mob did not stop. With crazed expressions, they trampled over the fresh corpses and kept charging.
Thud!
An arm was severed. A head rolled across the cobblestones.
Amidst the rampant blood and death, someone finally slipped past the defenses and plunged a dagger into a soldier's heart.
Splurt!
Blood sprayed in all directions. The street devolved into a chaotic meat grinder.
Unable to withstand the overwhelming numbers, the soldiers began to fall. The knights of the Rondon family grit their teeth and unleashed their full might. Their opponents were mere commoners. It should have been impossible for them to stand against Aura Swordsmen, yet there were shadows moving stealthily through the chaos.
Thud.
"...?!"
A knight's eyes widened in shock.
A needle was embedded in his neck. Someone had shot it from the crowd.
It meant that skilled assassins were hiding among the rabble, but with his consciousness already fading, there was nothing he could do. His body faltered. Even as he collapsed, the knight swung his sword, cutting down enemies, but the mob swarmed him from all sides. They hacked his body to pieces, blood spraying across their frenzied faces.
Thud.
The knight was dead. Defeat loomed large.
Witnessing the massacre outside, Count Rondon screamed, his face pale with horror.
"Stop this at once! The wealth in this carriage is crucial to solving our nation's crisis! If you are citizens of Redford, you must not attack us! Please, I beg of you, stop! If you steal this money, there is no future for Redford!"
He instinctively knew their objective was the money.
Count Rondon shouted until the veins in his neck bulged, but not a single soul listened to his desperate pleas.
At that moment...
Crack.
He staggered. His world spun.
Count Rondon slammed face-first onto the floor of the carriage, his eyes losing focus. Blood pooled from the back of his head.
As his grip on reality slipped away, he struggled to make out the face of his attacker.
"Check inside the carriage!"
"It's gold! There are gold coins!"
The crowd shrieked with joy.
Standing among them was Jacklin. A man who had started as a mere petty thief had boldly orchestrated an attack on the Rondon family's carriage in the middle of the capital.
"...P-please."
Rondon could barely move his lips. He wanted to stop them, but his fading voice could not reach the ears of the frenzied mob.
Suddenly, the words of Roman Dmitry echoed in his mind.
When Rondon had insisted he did not need an escort for the meeting with the Golden Bank, Roman Dmitry had handed over the chests containing one hundred thousand gold coins and warned him:
"Be careful. You made the mistake of showing leniency when you should have taken ruthless action. It does not matter what circumstances drove the people who attacked your estate. The moment they realize that the Rondon family—and the Redford Kingdom—are not as high of a wall as they thought, nothing that happens afterward will be surprising."
Dmitry's words.
Rondon had turned a blind eye to them, even though he knew exactly what they meant. He simply hadn't wanted to accept the grim reality that his country had fallen so deep into the abyss.
And now, he gasped for breath on the cold floor.
Watching Jacklin eagerly gather the gold coins, Rondon's mouth moved soundlessly.
As his consciousness finally slipped away, Count Rondon's world went black.
* * *
This ambush had originated from information provided by a pub owner.
"Jacklin. I heard that early tomorrow morning, the Rondon family plans to smuggle the country's wealth out. It's solid information from a servant working in their estate. They must be trying to move their assets to a safe place in preparation for Redford's collapse. Their meeting with Dmitry is an extension of that. They clearly intend to seek asylum in the Dmitry Duchy, not the Kronos Empire."
Hearing those words, Jacklin had been furious.
While the people of Redford had no power to act as they watched their country crumble, the richest man in the kingdom was thinking only of running away. It was absolutely unacceptable. The wealth the Rondon family had amassed by crushing the common folk needed to be taken back, if only for the sake of the country.
"Dirty, traitorous bastard. We can no longer stand by and watch a traitor's atrocities."
During the previous incident at the estate, Count Rondon had backed down.
Even when threatened with nothing but crude farming tools, the Count's willingness to compromise had instilled a dangerous confidence in Jacklin's heart.
And so, they had raided the carriage.
After fleeing to a secure location and prying open the chests of gold, Jacklin's eyes widened in disbelief.
"H-how much is this?"
"It has to be at least tens of thousands of gold!"
Instantly, he felt a surge of righteous anger.
Tens of thousands of gold was enough to feed countless families for a year without worry, yet Count Rondon had tried to smuggle away this massive fortune for himself. Jacklin's judgment had been correct. It defied the justice of the world for this money—steeped in the blood and sweat of Redford's citizens—to be hoarded by a piece-of-shit traitor.
He marched straight to the town square.
Looking at the impoverished citizens starting their morning, he shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Everyone, gather around! From this moment on, I will distribute the gold coins reclaimed from the traitor, Count Rondon!"
Jacklin did not consider himself a common thief.
He was a righteous outlaw. A savior who stole from the wicked and returned wealth to its rightful owners.
The people swarmed.
At the mere mention of gold coins, citizens with faces gaunt from starvation sprinted over, finding strength from who knows where.
He distributed the gold coins to them. One by one.
Watching the chests of gold rapidly empty, a bright, proud smile bloomed on Jacklin's face.
In that moment, Jacklin firmly believed he was doing the right thing.
* * *
Tick, tock.
Time passed.
When Count Rondon failed to show up even after nine o'clock—the scheduled time of their meeting—a certain man openly displayed his displeasure.
"Financial Officer. I believe the Golden Bank has been exceedingly understanding of the Redford Kingdom's circumstances. We lent a massive sum of money trusting His Majesty the King's word, waived a portion of the interest, and patiently waited until now despite not receiving a single cent of the principal, let alone the interest. But what on earth is the meaning of this? Why has Count Rondon not appeared, even though the scheduled time has long passed?!"
This man belonged to the Golden Bank.
He was an Executor.
He was a powerful figure who could plunge Redford into utter ruin with a single word, which was why the Financial Officer scrambled to reply in a panic.
"I am truly sorry. Count Rondon is not one to break an appointment. Surely, something must have happened on his way here..."
"Cut the nonsense!"
Slam!
The Executor threw down his documents. As the papers scattered in all directions, the Financial Officer's eyes shook violently.
The Executor sneered.
"We are not ignorant of Count Rondon's reputation in Redford. Rumors abound that he is a man who ruins those around him with ruthless business tactics just to line his own pockets. Even so, the Golden Bank does not judge people solely on reputation. If our relationship had been amicable, I might have trusted your words and waited using my personal authority as an Executor. But what promise has Count Rondon actually kept? He took charge of this matter on behalf of Redford, only to delay the repayment date day after day. And today, on the very day of our scheduled meeting, he hasn't even shown his face. Trust is not built overnight. Rather than believing your excuse that 'something might have happened,' my first thought is that Count Rondon has abandoned Redford to save his own skin."
Screech.
He pushed his chair back and stood up. There was no longer any reason to wait.
"From this moment on, the Golden Bank officially classifies the Redford Kingdom as a delinquent debtor. We will spare no means or methods to collect this debt, and we will formally protest this issue to the international community in the near future."
"E-Executor!"
Swish.
The Executor turned on his heel. Seeing the bank's attendants follow him out, the Financial Officer hurriedly stood up, desperate enough to grab the hem of the man's trousers if necessary.
It was then.
"The successor to the Dmitry Duchy, Lord Roman Dmitry, is entering."
From beyond the door came the servant's loud announcement.
And as the heavy doors swung wide open, everyone's eyes turned to a single spot.