Chapter 587: Old Subordinates
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 587: Old Subordinates
In Belland, at the city gates, a convoy approached in total silence.
A drowsy guard was startled awake by the sudden looming shadows and barked, "Who goes there?"
"A convoy, entering the city," a voice called out from the darkness.
"Impossible. The gates are sealed tonight. No one enters!"
"Could you... perhaps make an exception?" The person seemed to be reaching for something.
"No!" The guard drew his sword halfway from its scabbard, his irritation mounting. "Bribing a gate guard? Do you have any idea what—"
Thud.
A heavy bag landed at the guard's feet.
The guard looked down slightly and saw a stack of high-denomination banknotes peeking out from the mouth of the bag. He couldn't help but swallow hard.
But he quickly snapped back to his senses. No matter how much money they offered, if he let someone in against orders and something went wrong, it would be his head on the block. Especially since his superiors had given specific instructions.
"No. Take your money and get out of here. Do you think I'm the kind of—"
Thud.
Another bag.
The person in the shadows seemed intent on showing him exactly how tempting this amount of money was. They hadn't used convenient crystal cards or bank drafts; instead, they had piled stacks of the largest denominations right in front of him. It was an agonizingly seductive sight.
"No, I..."
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Several more bags followed. Combined, it was enough money for the guard to never have to work another day in his life.
the guard’s body trembled slightly, his eyes fixed on the loot. Finally, he took a deep breath and forced himself to look away.
"I said no!"
"Oh? You have much more backbone than that fellow Seniel. Impressive."
A voice of approval drifted from the shadows.
Then, a faint light flickered on, revealing a strikingly handsome face and a head of brilliant blond hair.
It was a young man wearing a gentle smile, seemingly unbothered by the failed bribery.
Of course, to the guard, the most prominent feature wasn't the face or the hair, but the crest pinned to the chest of the young man’s gold-trimmed, luxurious formal suit.
The Dragon-Slaying Sword.
The House of Duke Campbell!
"You are..." The guard turned pale with shock and immediately dropped to one knee. "The... Young Master of the Campbell family?"
"Indeed. I am Muen Campbell, heir to the House of Campbell," Muen said with a smile. "Now that you know who I am, may I enter?"
"This..." The guard was sweating profusely, his mind racing. "If it is Young Master Campbell, it would be fine if you had entry papers. How many people are with you... Wait, what is that?"
The guard had intended to deliberate further, but as he peered through the dim light at the mass of figures hidden in the shadows behind Muen, his expression froze.
The shadows stretched back endlessly, vanishing into the distance. It was impossible to tell how many there were.
"You... why are you bringing so many people into the city?" The guard swallowed hard. Recalling certain rumors he’d heard recently, he suddenly had a very bad feeling.
"Don't be alarmed, don't be alarmed." Muen patted the guard on the shoulder, his tone comforting. "Let me explain. It’s like this: a while back, I was dispatched to the North by His Majesty’s decree to provide disaster relief, right?"
"Was... was that so?"
"Look, His Majesty’s appointment letter is right here." Muen smilingly handed the document to the guard. "Since it was for disaster relief, it’s only natural that I’d bring back some refugees to settle them, wouldn't you say?"
"Refu... refugees?"
"Yes, refugees."
"But they’re all wearing armor..."
"That’s because I was afraid they’d get cold. It’s only natural to dress warmly, isn't it?"
"They’re on horseback..."
"It’s a long journey. Wouldn't they get exhausted if they had to walk the whole way?"
"The weapons..."
"We were out in the wilderness. How could they not have something for self-defense? What if they ran into bandits? These are all defenseless refugees; they were very frightened." Muen spread his hands, looking the picture of vulnerability.
"..."
The guard looked at the group of men, every one of whom looked fierce and battle-hardened. He thought to himself that it was the bandits who should have been frightened.
"So, what do you say? I’m here on official business. Can you let me in?"
"This..." The guard gritted his teeth. He knew he didn't really have a choice, yet he hesitated, unwilling to give the word.
"Let me talk to him."
Just as Muen was about to say more, another steady voice came from behind him.
Muen raised an eyebrow but said nothing, stepping aside to clear the way.
"You are..." The guard’s eyes widened as he stared blankly at the tall man who stepped forward. "Lord Count Eller?"
"It is I."
Count Eller Campo, the border lord who had assisted Muen in the forest and at the border, nodded. "I remember you. You served under me once."
"Yes, sir!" The guard looked energized. He snapped his heels together and struck his chest with a single hand in a textbook-perfect Imperial military salute. "I once followed Lord Baron Wales in your service, Excellency! I fought in two wars against the Kingdom and witnessed your bravery firsthand. It was only later that my unit was transferred to Belland for garrison duty. I missed the battle where you finally crushed the Kingdom’s army. It is my great regret."
"There is nothing worth seeing in a pyrrhic victory that cost so many lives. But to think you’d end up here guarding a gate..." Eller mused for a moment. "Where is Wales?"
"The Baron is currently in charge of the entire gate security detail. He should be on patrol elsewhere."
"Have him come see me."
"Yes, sir!"
Before long, a man reeking of alcohol approached, leading a squad of soldiers.
"Wales, without my whip to drive you, have you really degenerated to this state?"
"Count Eller?" The swaying man froze. Upon hearing those words, it was as if he had encountered an inviolable law of nature. His body snapped upright, and the alcohol seemed to be purged from his system through a sudden burst of cold sweat. He was instantly half-sober. "You... what are you doing here?"
"I have come for the sake of the Empire." Eller stood before Wales. Though he wasn't physically larger, the sheer pressure emanating from his soul made Wales’s teeth chatter. It brought back terrifying memories of being personally drilled by the Count.
"You’re in charge of the gate? And you’ve ordered that no one is to enter all night?"
"Yes... yes, sir!"
"Who gave the order?"
"It was... Lord Count Charles."
"Charles? Did he have a Royal Decree?"
"No... no, sir."
"No decree?" Eller’s sharp brows furrowed. "Without a decree from His Majesty, how can a fat pig like Charles, who only manages the Upper District, give you orders?"
"He is... a Count, after all." Wales wiped his sweat, bowing with a forced smile. "I couldn't exactly—"
"Who told you to bow? Stand up straight!" Eller suddenly roared.
"Yes, sir!" Wales snapped to attention so violently that Muen thought he heard the man’s bones groan.
"Without a decree, Charles suddenly tells you to seal the gates. Didn't you think that was suspicious? Belland is the heart of the Empire; the gates aren't closed on a whim without a major crisis," Eller continued coldly.
"This..." Wales’s eyes flickered with a complex expression. It seemed he wasn't entirely ignorant of the situation.
But even if he knew some inside information, a man of his lowly status could do nothing about it. He had preferred to numb himself with wine. In this storm, he was too small; he could only drift with the current.
"How many men can you mobilize?" Eller asked abruptly.
"Me?" Wales blinked, then answered, "The gate guard consists of about two hundred men."
"Are you coming with us?" Eller asked.
"Coming with you..." Wales whispered the words.
Though he didn't know the details, he knew that whatever Count Eller was about to do was bound to be extremely dangerous. However, as his gaze fell upon that familiar, resolute face, and then upon the massive, disciplined army waiting in the shadows—an army so well-trained that not even a horse’s neigh could be heard—old memories and sensations came rushing back.
"I’ll ask one more time. Are you coming?"
"Yes!" A sharp light flashed in Wales’s eyes. He threw his chest out, looking as he had years ago. He shouted, "I am ready to follow your command, Excellency!"
"Then go gather your men. Move fast. Don't let me see that sluggish look again, or you know exactly how I’ll drill you." Eller’s tone remained harsh, but the corner of his mouth quirked into a faint smile.
Wales shuddered, but his reply was full of vigor: "Yes, sir! Right away!"
*
Wales led his subordinates away to gather the men. The gates were thrown open, and the convoy began to move through silently and swiftly.
"As expected of Count Eller," Muen remarked, watching how smoothly the situation had been resolved. "I thought this would be much more troublesome. I didn't expect it to be settled like this."
"I learned everything I know from the Duke. It is nothing special. However, speaking of that..." Eller turned to look at the army and sighed. "I must ask for your understanding, Young Master Muen. To avoid detection and to prevent the Kingdom from stirring up trouble during this time, these two thousand knights were all the men I could mobilize. But rest assured, they are elites, each worth ten ordinary men."
"No need to apologize." Muen waved it off. "Being able to bring in troops from the outside at all exceeded my expectations. We aren't trying to conquer all of Belland; this is enough."
"If the goal is to storm the Imperial Palace, these men can likely only serve as a diversion," Eller said, his expression grave. He had already learned the full situation in Belland from Muen and understood the disadvantageous position the Campbell family was currently in.
"A diversion is enough. You aren't the only force I have. If those people truly had total control, they wouldn't have been forced to use such methods to seize the throne." Muen looked up toward the Imperial Palace. "But... it won't be easy. Soldier against soldier, general against general, king against king. The loss of power on any side could break the balance of the entire battlefield. Tonight is destined to be a terrible melee, and this battle will decide the future of the entire Empire."
"The future of the entire Empire..." Eller gave a bitter smile. "That is a heavy burden."
"What? Are you afraid?"
"Heh. Young Master Muen, those words are an insult." Eller turned and vaulted onto his horse. He gazed at the magnificent, distant palace, his square-jawed face set with nothing but determination. "The Duke did not flinch when facing a hundred thousand demons. I am merely here to deal with some parasites sucking the life out of the Empire’s roots. What is there to be afraid of?"