Chapter 162
Chapter 162
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 162
Chapter Title: Banquet of Blood
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Crunch!
The head shatters under the wildly swung mace, the victim collapsing without even a scream.
Thud!
The fallen corpse, eyes bulging wide in unresolved grievance, refuses to close even in death.
Blood oozes from wounds scattered across the body.
The banquet hall has devolved into utter pandemonium.
No trace remains of the neat cuisine or the tidy venue, even if one scoured it with fresh eyes.
The loyalists, seizing this once-in-a-lifetime chance to eliminate the traitors en masse, and the traitors themselves, flailing desperately for survival.
They swing swords and unleash spells in pursuit of their goals.
Amid the growing clamor of blood pooling in the banquet hall.
Ian and the Latent Dragon Squad's exploits shone blindingly bright.
"Die... Wh-what?!"
Splat!
A noble slips on a corpse, tumbling backward and losing balance. The knight guarding the traitors raises his iron mace with bloodshot eyes.
"You foolish trash... Stubborn fools who can't even read the tide of the times. Tomorrow has no place for the likes of you!!"
"...!!"
Whoosh!
As the lethal mace hurtles straight for his head, the noble squeezes his eyes shut.
Shriiing! Slash!
With a sound like a snake slithering, the knight's wrist holding the mace flies into the air.
"Aaaargh!!"
The knight writhes in agony from the sudden amputation but soon falls silent, unable to scream any longer.
A throat pierced through can't speak, after all.
"Are you alright?"
"Huff! Heh, heh! Th-thank you. Who... are you?"
The noble expressed his gratitude to Ian and inquired about his identity, but Ian had no time for pleasantries.
In that brief moment, another noble had fallen.
Though the loyalists opposing the Khan Empire vastly outnumbered them, the battle wasn't as one-sided as expected.
The knights aligned with the traitorous houses—who fed off the Khan Empire—were far better equipped.
Kaidu Balak had invested heavily to showcase the immense benefits of cozying up to the Khan Empire.
Moreover, those who, if not zealously, had still chosen dealings with the Khan Empire.
To the loyalists' eyes, they looked no different from outright traitors.
Though they moved together to slay the traitors, mutual distrust kept their coordination poor.
These tangled factors ensured the traitors' numbers dwindled slowly.
Ian and the Latent Dragon Squad unfailingly rescued nobles following Raychen and Prince Pang whenever they were in peril.
Yet Ian never took his eyes off Duke Alvaret and his wife for even a moment.
'Karawna hasn't entered yet. Unless the Alvaret house's survival is assured... they'll just flee outright.'
Thus, their lives had to be preserved at all costs.
To kick off the real plan.
As Ian saved nobles and steadily cut down traitors.
Boom!
At last, the banquet hall's sturdy double doors shattered.
Behind the splintered wood and flying debris emerged grim-faced warriors.
Towering figures gripping shamshirs in one hand and short spears in the other.
It was Karawna's captain, Tariq.
"Duke Alvaret! Madam!! We've come to rescue you!!"
"Ooooh, Sir Tariq! You've arrived!!"
Not only the duchess but even Duke Alvaret—who had confronted Tariq harshly all the way to Tulguhr—couldn't have been happier to see him at this moment.
But how could they know?
That Tariq felt exactly the same right now.
'...Good. No dressing-down from His Highness the Grand Duke.'
The palace guards' resistance had been bizarrely fierce, delaying their arrival far longer than anticipated.
He'd worried, but fortunately, the Alvaret house had survived with minimal losses.
Ian's covert management played a part, but the duke's own merit was no small thing.
Though he'd reluctantly begun dealings with the Khan Empire under pressure from his wife, he hadn't fully succumbed to them.
Thus, amid the royal onslaught, he'd maintained a defensive formation passively rather than counterattacking fiercely.
That choice now proved his best move.
Focused solely on holding formation, the Alvarets ironically suffered the least damage among the traitors.
"No time to dawdle here. Let's get out now!"
Without waiting for the duke's consent, Tariq hoisted the duchess onto his back and began evacuating the hall.
After all, Duke Alvaret was just a puppet dancing to his wife's tune.
The true VIP here was the duchess.
As Karawna retrieved the duke and duchess and withdrew with their house's forces, the other traitors panicked and chased after them.
"W-wait! Take us too!!"
The traitors' piteous pleas echoed through the hall, but Karawna ignored them utterly.
To them, only the Alvaret house mattered.
The rest were dead weight.
'Better to use you wretched lives as roadblocks against pursuers right here.'
That was the one scrap of meaning left for their pathetic existences.
With Karawna ruthlessly departing, only the remaining traitor remnants were left behind. Raychen and Ian locked eyes simultaneously.
"Your Highness."
"Yes, Young Lord Ian."
Raychen nodded at Ian's quiet call.
"As discussed, I've deployed the royal guard units at the east, west, and north gates. They'll soon realize it and surely pivot to the south gate."
Raychen continued reassuringly.
"The herding hunt's groundwork has no gaps, Young Lord Ian. Trust me and do your part. I... seem to have a bit more business here."
Ian gazed at Raychen for a moment before nodding slightly and pursuing Karawna with the Latent Dragon Squad.
Though the gap had widened in that short time, the herding toward the south gate should prevent them from being too late.
Having resolved to trust Ian, Raychen clasped his hands behind his back and slowly approached the traitors.
Step.
"Well then."
He smiled at the traitors, but his eyes held no mirth whatsoever.
"Shall we begin the sorting? Between those worth rehabilitating... and the trash that deserves to be burned."
To the traitors' eyes, the approaching Raychen looked nothing short of a demon from the underworld.
"Phew... This should wrap things up for now."
"Well done, Your Highness."
Having successfully captured the surviving traitors in the banquet hall, Raychen let out a long sigh. Viscount Sozen offered a handkerchief as he spoke.
"When Duchess Alvaret made her unexpected move, I feared the worst for a moment... but Your Highness's sharp judgment ensured the plan was at least half successful."
"Ah, thanks."
Raychen wiped the sweat from his brow with Viscount Sozen's handkerchief and added,
"But one thing in your words needs correcting. It wasn't my judgment—it was Young Lord Ian's."
"Pardon? What do you...?"
Viscount Sozen tilted his head in confusion.
Of course. Even at close range, he couldn't have imagined it.
No matter that the 'purge' plan had been shared... who could fathom a foreigner—mere scion of a house—acting first to slay their nobles without any signal?
Viscount Sozen probably assumed Ian had moved on Raychen's cue.
That was only 'common sense'.
'Young Lord Ian... he's no ordinary man.'
He'd seized control of the hall's momentum from the duchess with blood and lives in an instant.
What bold, unprecedented judgment.
To decide and execute such audacity at barely legal age.
'Are all heirs of the Lichtenauer Martial Clan like this? Setting aside background or ties to the lady... making an enemy of someone like this would be folly. When Young Lord Ian returns, I need to cultivate our friendship more actively.'
Raychen held Ian in high regard, unaware that he'd just revealed himself as equally extraordinary.
Slaughtering foreign nobles on a whim should have earned rebuke, yet Raychen thanked him for snapping him to his senses.
By that alone, Ian had pegged Raychen as beyond 'common sense'.
Whatever Ian truly thought, having detained all the hall's nobles, Raychen unwittingly glanced south.
Karawna was the Khan Empire's boasted elite.
Letting even one slip would prompt the Khan Empire to march on Tummur Shurga and demand accountability.
It was a razor-thin tightrope, yet for some reason.
Raychen felt no doubt that Ian wouldn't let Karawna escape.
Splat!
The short spear pierces a Pang Kingdom knight's heart.
Slash!
The shamshir decapitates a soldier.
"Hoo... This is exhausting."
Tariq roughly wiped the sweat streaming down his temple with his sleeve, grinding his teeth.
The Pang Kingdom bastards... they'd come prepared.
East, west, north.
Every path teemed with royal guards and soldiers.
"Captain, the south gate seems lightly guarded by comparison. Shouldn't we head there?"
"South gate... Baekra Mountains, then."
The vice-captain nodded at Tariq's murmur.
"Yes. With 'her' presence there... they probably think we can't escape that way."
"Damn it...!!"
Tariq bit his lip at his subordinate's words.
No.
With years rolling in battlefields, Tariq's instincts screamed otherwise.
The Pang Kingdom hadn't left the south open because of her.
After spitting in the Khan Empire's face, they'd ignore the south just because she's there?
They wouldn't be that sloppy.
Though the exact reason eluded him, the Pang bastards had 'deliberately' left the south clear.
Forcing Karawna toward it, no less.
Crunch...!!
He gnashed so hard a tooth cracked.
Humiliation and shame overwhelmed him.
For a puny kingdom's rabble.
Weak prey daring to herd the mighty Karawna.
'Fine. Bring it.'
Tariq's eyes blazed murderously as he turned his mount south.
'You want it? We'll oblige. Whatever you've prepared, thinking you can take on Karawna is a grave mistake.'
A flock of sheep is still sheep.
Even mobilizing their entire royal guard, annihilating Karawna would cost them dearly.
And if even one Karawna escaped.
The Pang Kingdom would pay with extinction for today's affair.
Rattle!
Tariq flung open the Alvaret carriage door and notified the duchess.
"We're charging the south gate at full speed from now on. No objections—consider it done."
"...".
The duchess stared blankly, speechless.
Tariq had no time to mind her reaction.
No intention to, either.
Any more delay, and this backwater palace would trap them for good.
"All hands, wheel about! We break out through the south gate!"
'...Why did things turn out like this?'
Inside the Karawna-led carriage, Duchess Alvaret choked back nausea with all her might.
Perhaps from Karawna's utter disregard for passengers, rattling the carriage wildly... but instinctively, she knew.
The surging queasiness wasn't just the bumpy ride.
'I, I just wanted everyone to enjoy more than before.'
Why, just why?
Why wouldn't those foolish nobles, the crown prince... understand her heart and draw their blades instead?
Noticing his wife's turmoil, Duke Alvaret gazed quietly before finally speaking.