Chapter 344: Let’s Make Our Escape Easier (3)
“Krrrr… you crazy bastard…”
Martin, who was spewing blood foam, stared with a bewildered expression even as he lay dying.
King of Mercenaries? He’d never heard of such a title, let alone considered it.
It was well-known that Count Fenris was insane. So naturally, everything he said sounded like the ravings of a lunatic.
‘What rotten luck.’
Martin felt it was unbearably unfair to die like this, caught up with a madman.
“My father… will definitely… kill you all… tear you apart…”
With a curse on his lips, Martin drew his last breath, succumbing to the pain.
The members of the Drake Mercenary Corps looked at Martin’s corpse with heavy expressions. While avenging themselves brought some satisfaction, they couldn’t help but worry about the aftermath.
But Ghislain glanced at Dominic with a nonchalant smile.
“How about it? Feel better now?”
“Yes… I do, but…”
“There’s no need to worry too much. What kind of mercenary gets so skittish? Just fight and win when the time comes.”
“…”
Killing the son of the most powerful noble in the West and not worrying about it seemed bizarre, if not downright crazy.
Dominic realized how vastly different he was from Ghislain. The difference in their temperaments was so extreme that Ghislain seemed almost deranged.
* * *
The sound of hoofbeats grew louder, and a group of soldiers appeared in the distance. Snapping back to his senses, Dominic mounted his horse.
“Prepare for battle!”
The mercenaries quickly formed ranks and readied their weapons.
The approaching forces were the city guard and Martin’s private soldiers.
As they reached the mercenaries, the captain of the guard growled at Dominic.
“Dominic! You’ve finally gone too far! Where is the Young Lord?”
Dominic tilted his head slightly toward Ghislain before speaking.
“From now on, I’ll handle this.”
Then, without hesitation, he hurled Martin’s corpse at the guard captain and shouted,
“He took our families hostage and killed them. So I killed him. This is rightful vengeance.”
“What? What!? You… you lunatic!”
The captain’s face turned ashen. The son of the Marquis of Roderick, dead at the hands of mere mercenaries?
If this spiraled out of control, the entire city guard could face severe punishment. He knew what had to be done these mercenaries needed to be killed immediately. Otherwise, it would be their necks on the line.
“Ki-Kill them”
The captain couldn’t finish his order. The ferocious aura radiating from the mercenaries stopped him cold.
‘If we fight, we’ll die.’
Their forces numbered close to a thousand not a small number. But the Drake Mercenary Corps outnumbered them significantly, even with some members away on assignments. Their ranks neared 2,000, displaying the grandeur of the largest mercenary corps in the West.
The Drake Mercenary Corps was formidable, its reputation legendary. They were not to be taken lightly.
‘If we fight, our defeat is certain. Even if we win, it’ll be near annihilation.’
The captain doubted they could win at all. His troops lacked real combat experience.
While nobles like Martin dismissed mercenaries as insignificant, the truth was far from that for ordinary soldiers.
‘What do I do?’
Whether they fought or retreated, death seemed inevitable. The captain, torn, wore his anguish openly, unable to make a decision.
Dominic, aware of the captain’s dilemma, spoke with a calm expression.
“Just report it as a disappearance.”
“What?”
“No one really knows what happened here. Say that the Young Lord and his knights went on an excursion and didn’t return. Problem solved.”
“…”
The captain could only swallow nervously, unable to respond.
It might buy time for now. However, the Marquis of Roderick was not someone to take lightly. Investigations would eventually uncover the truth.
As the captain hesitated, Dominic pressed further, his tone persuasive.
“You have no other choice. Fight us here and die, or confess to the Marquis and die later. Isn’t it better to buy some time and figure things out?”
“Uh… uh…”
“Just keep everyone quiet. If no one talks, there won’t be any problems.”
“But it’ll come out eventually.”
“Then blame us. Say we kidnapped him.”
Even that wouldn’t save them. The Marquis of Roderick was ruthless.
But it was better than dying here and now. They could manipulate information, hide what happened, and if exposure seemed inevitable, they could flee before it was too late.
“… Fine.”
In the end, the captain accepted Dominic’s proposal. Martin wasn’t a master worth dying for, and so, he chose to protect his own life above all else.
Ghislain glanced at the city guards and Martin’s soldiers, chuckling faintly.
“Pathetic compared to the North.”
No matter how much wealth or power one possessed, it meant nothing when the soldiers became complacent. They lacked loyalty, zeal, and even the will to fight.
Even the soldiers under Count Cabaldi, notorious as a cruel lord of the North, weren’t this bad. Those who lived in the harsh North, at the very least, had the instinct to fight back.
Of course, the fault wasn’t entirely the soldiers’. The nobles who ruled with such tyranny bore a far greater share of the blame.
While the Marquis of Roderick’s personal forces might be an exception, the situation in other territories could easily be guessed.
Thanks to the agreement Dominic reached with the captain of the guard, the conflict ended without a fight.
Dominic raised his hand, addressing the mercenaries.
“Let’s move out.”
The majority of the Drake Mercenary Corps had already packed their belongings.
News would soon reach the members still en route, stationed in other territories, or carrying out missions. Most of them would also pack up and relocate to Fenris.
After all, with Dominic causing such a stir, staying here would only lead to harassment from the Marquis of Roderick.
As the Drake Mercenary Corps prepared to depart, the captain of the guard suddenly asked Dominic, curious about where so many people would resettle.
“Where… are you all going?”
Dominic saw no reason to hide it, knowing rumors would spread soon enough.
“Fenris. We’re going to Fenris.”
“Fenris…?”
The captain had heard the rumors. The territory currently making waves home to the Northern Star and governed by its notorious lord, Count Fenris.
As Ghislain mounted his horse, he turned to the captain of the guard and added with a smirk, “I am Count Fenris. These men will now be under my care. If the Marquis has any complaints, let him come find me. Anytime.”
“…”
It didn’t take much to recognize Ghislain as the one who had “kidnapped” Martin. His skills were impressive, but there was no denying he was slightly unhinged. The captain decided to feign ignorance.
Ghislain clicked his tongue, slightly awkward, while Dominic couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.
Who would believe it? That a lord of the North would personally come and stir up trouble like this?
Thus, the Drake Mercenary Corps departed, leaving the city guard scrambling to burn Martin’s body and eliminate any evidence.
On the way to Fenris, Ghislain turned to Dominic and asked, “Where and how is my stuff being auctioned?”
“…”
Dominic hesitated to answer immediately. For followers, the opportunity to secretly obtain their idol’s belongings was an irresistible temptation especially for avid collectors.
When Dominic faltered, Ghislain’s gaze sharpened, and he pressed again.
“Well? Speak up.”
“…Yes.”
In the end, Dominic confessed everything. He revealed the contact methods, location, and purchasing process without leaving out a single detail.
As Ghislain listened, he sighed repeatedly, clicking his tongue while nodding.
He’d never wanted to return to his territory as quickly as he did now.
“Alright, people! We’re pulling an all-nighter if we have to. We don’t have enough stock!”
At a building within the territory, Claude was barking orders, urging people to work faster.
He was currently overseeing the production of “The Chronicles of Count Fenris – Part 2: The Forest of Beasts.”
A group of scribes was hard at work, diligently writing under Claude’s direction.
Watching their efforts, Claude’s face lit up with a satisfied smile.
“Hehehe… this is going to make a fortune.”
It all started innocuously. A few merchants had mentioned that the lord was gaining quite a bit of fame recently and discreetly inquired if any of his belongings could be acquired.
Having never left the estate and being too busy to keep up with such things, Claude was unaware of this at first. But upon learning of the lord’s growing fan base, he saw an opportunity.
“Everyone knows items related to popular figures sell well. Hehehe.”
Once Claude realized this, he quickly devised a plan to capitalize on the lord’s popularity. He wasn’t taking bribes or embezzling estate funds; he was earning money through legitimate work. As such, he felt no guilt whatsoever.
‘Convincing Wendy was the hardest part.’
Claude glanced sideways. Sure enough, Wendy was anxiously biting her nails, looking completely out of her element.
Seeing the usually unshakable Wendy so distressed filled him with a strange sense of glee.
‘Heh, there’s no turning back now.’
Claude had taken great care in proceeding with his venture. The first step was recording the lord’s chronicles.
When Wendy first saw this, she had asked, “What are you doing now?”
“Hmm, just documenting the lord’s achievements. Everyone does this sort of thing, don’t they?”
It wasn’t a lie every noble family documented their history. If their accomplishments were notable, they were often exaggerated to make them even grander.
The issue wasn’t with documenting history itself.
“Why are you writing it personally, Chief Overseer?”
Typically, scribes were tasked with such records. There was no reason for the Chief Overseer to do it himself.
But Claude shamelessly replied, “Everyone’s busy, aren’t they? Besides, there’s no one who writes as well as I do. I’m a master calligrapher and an exceptional writer.”
He argued that since it was technically part of administrative duties, the Chief Overseer could handle it. Since it wasn’t entirely incorrect, Wendy couldn’t stop him right away.
Claude worked on the chronicles intermittently while instructing the scribes who drafted the territory’s official documents to copy them verbatim.
Although suspicious, his excuse about needing copies to distribute convinced Wendy, and she let it slide.
Claude’s actions only grew more suspicious from there.
“Now, now, as the Chief Overseer, I need to inspect the lord’s garments. Protocol management isn’t exclusively the butler’s job, is it?”
“Bring me the lord’s weapons. I need to assess their condition.”
“Hm, this one doesn’t look very good. Set it aside. I’ll inform the workshop of its deficiencies.”
“Oh, and tell the butler to send anything to be discarded here. I’ll give it one last review before it’s thrown out.”
Using his authority, Claude gradually pilfered Ghislain’s possessions under the guise of administrative duties. His plausible excuses fooled everyone.
As Chief Overseer, Claude commanded many administrative officers, naturally forming a circle of trusted aides.
He entrusted these aides with the items he had appropriated, secretly arranging for their sale.
This part was the most challenging. To avoid detection by Wendy, he employed every trick, including splitting messages into pieces and delivering them in coded notes.
He also spread rumors discreetly through merchants, whispering to Ghislain’s followers about the opportunity to acquire his belongings.
‘Hah, that was the hardest part, but I managed to pull it off.’
Once his trusted aides understood his intentions, they handled everything with just a glance.
Thus, a secret auction house was born, selling Ghislain’s items to his devoted followers.
By the time Wendy discovered the existence of the auction, many of the items had already been sold, and the operation had grown significantly. With his cunning, Claude had deceived everyone in the territory, establishing a thriving new business.
Wendy spent several days biting her nails, agonizing over how to report the situation.
‘What do I do? How do I explain this?’
Claude hadn’t embezzled public funds or exploited unpaid labor.
He had personally built a new business and used the profits to employ people.
What’s more, he never touched anything Belinda intended to retrieve. He only took items marked for disposal, selling them off instead.
Even so, selling a lord’s belongings, discarded or not, was still improper. The situation was painfully ambiguous.
If she had reported it from the start, it could have been stopped. But now, the scale of the operation made reporting it daunting.
Claude noticed Wendy’s conflicted expression and smirked to himself.
‘Heh, she has a soft heart. Too many people are involved now, so reporting it would be a mess.’
From scribes to sellers, everyone was working tirelessly, willingly. Wendy had no grounds to shut it down.
She was completely at a loss for what to do.
What Claude did next only added to the chaos.
“Alright, scribes are busy writing, so let’s gather all the artists.”
The painters of Fenris assembled at Claude’s command. He surveyed them with a critical eye and frowned.
“Why can’t you draw proper portraits? People who know the lord keep complaining that you’ve overdone the enhancements!”
The painters bit their lips in frustration. They had only been following Claude’s explicit instructions to make Ghislain look more handsome.
What’s more, Claude personally reviewed and approved every piece. Now, he feigned ignorance when complaints rolled in.
He truly was shameless.
“Anyway! Redo them! Got it? Try to tone down the artificial touch this time!”
“Yes, sir…”
“There’ve been too many refund requests and demands for revisions. Scrap everything you’ve done so far and start over!”
“But, sir… we’ve already completed 500 pieces…”
“Whether it’s 500 or 5,000, this is about trust! Pull an all-nighter if you must!”
The painters turned pale at his words. The least trustworthy person was lecturing them about trust. They wanted to punch him.
Claude clenched his fists dramatically and shouted,
“Let’s push through! If we work hard, we can do anything! Let’s give it our all today!”
He rallied the painters, blissfully unaware that someone was already on their way to confront him.