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A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles Chapter 71

Chapter 71

“What‍​ do we do?”​⁠

Hugo‍ stepped forward and⁠​​ asked Lucian on‍ behalf of everyone.​‌

Getting⁠ involved in other‌‍​ people’s business usually​⁠ meant shouldering unnecessary⁠‍​ problems.

However,‌‌ if handled well,‍‌‍ it could also‍ become an opportunity⁠ to gain allies​ in the north.​⁠​

“We’ll‌⁠ go take a look.”

After‌‍​ a brief moment‍ of thought, Lucian​ headed toward the⁠‌ direction of the‌⁠ clashing weapons.

In​⁠ any case, they​‍ were already approaching.​⁠ If they stayed​​ still, they would‌ end up getting‍​‌ involved without understanding​‍‍ anything.

It‍‌‍ was better to‌​ take the initiative‌⁠​ and assess the​⁠‍ situation.

Clang,⁠ clang, crunch.

“It’s‍ over there.”

Lucian’s⁠​ group climbed a hill and looked⁠ down.

There,⁠ about thirty people⁠‍​ were fighting. More⁠ precisely, all of‍ them were attacking​‍⁠ a single man.⁠

“You‌⁠ bastards, disgrace of‌⁠ the north! Do‍‍‍ you know nothing​​ of a warrior’s⁠‍⁠ honor?”

Crunch.‌

“Gah…!”⁠​

The​‍ old man with‍‌ completely white hair⁠⁠‌ roared as he⁠ crushed a charging⁠​ soldier with his‍​ axe.

Though​ he kept growling,​ his muscular body‍ swept through enemies‍‌⁠ with absurd strength.⁠‌

“Damn‍‍ old man. So​​ much talk about‌​⁠ warriors, and he‍​ trained like a monster.”

Unlike‌ the burly elder,‍⁠ the man commanding‍​‍ the many soldiers⁠​ had the bearing​​⁠ of a refined​ noble.

He⁠‍ wore an elegant‌‌‍ outfit, fit for⁠ the capital, and‍ white gloves more‍ suited to a ballroom than a battlefield.

“You⁠ bastard! Hiding behind​​‍ your soldiers—what kind⁠ of cowardice is‌‍ that? Is this‌ how I raised⁠‌ you? If you⁠⁠ want your father’s‌‍‌ head, come get​​ it yourself!”

“Still‌⁠ clinging to those‍​ outdated ideals? If⁠⁠‌ it were a ploy to lure‍‌ me in, I could understand it,‌ but saying it⁠ seriously just makes‍ it pathetic.”

“You…‌​⁠ ngh!”

Slash.​‍

Just‍​ as the old​ man was about⁠‍‌ to shout again,‍‌⁠ a soldier’s spear​‍‍ grazed his arm.⁠ Seeing blood gush‍​ from that steel-like‍ body, the soldier​‍ cried out in‌ excitement.

“I-I‍ pierced him! I…!”​‍​

“How‍ dare you interrupt‍‍ an old man​⁠ when he’s speaking!”​‌

Whoosh.⁠⁠‍

The‌ axe came down⁠‌⁠ like lightning and⁠​‍ severed the soldier’s​‍ head in a single blow.

It‍‌ was so fast⁠​ that the man​ didn’t even realize⁠‌ he had died;‍⁠⁠ his face still‌ bore a smile.‌​

Seeing‍‌ the head roll‌ on the ground,⁠ the noble clicked​‌ his tongue.

“What⁠ a shame. That’s‌​ no way to⁠ earn gold coins.​ He only needed‍⁠ to strike and⁠​ retreat.”

“How‍​‌ dare you say‌⁠ such—ugh!”

The‌​ old man, trying‌‌‌ to shout again,‌‍‌ staggered in dizziness.‍⁠ Looking closely, his⁠‌ body was covered‍‍ in multiple small‍​ wounds.

Seeing‌ him on the⁠​ verge of collapse,⁠‌‌ the middle-aged noble⁠‌ laughed.

“No‍ matter how much⁠⁠‌ of a warrior‍‌ he is, age⁠​‌ catches up. Still,‌ you’ve held out‍​‌ quite well for​‍⁠ your age, father.”‌

“Let‍‌ me ask you​ something… Do you​⁠ really believe that⁠‍‍ bastard, that snake,‌ can restore the⁠‌⁠ north’s former glory?”⁠

Perhaps‍ sensing death was‌‍⁠ near, the old​‍⁠ man set his⁠ anger aside and⁠⁠‌ asked with genuine​ curiosity.

The‌‌ noble shook his⁠ head, laughing even⁠ harder.

“And⁠‍⁠ what does that‌ matter? The glory⁠‌‍ of the north‌ isn’t my concern.”​

“What…‌⁠‍ then…?”

“What‌‍ matters is that‌‌ Count Calix’s house⁠​​ is trying to‌‌‌ reorganize the north,⁠ and there are​‍‍ more people than⁠​⁠ you think willing‍ to support them.​‌ If the north​ is going to‌ change, isn’t it‌ better to side‌ with them early‌ and gather the⁠​‍ scraps?”

“To⁠‍​ the very end…!”​​

A trickle of blood​ fell from the​​ old man’s mouth‍ as he clenched⁠ his teeth.

He⁠​‍ looked more devastated‍‍ by the denial‌​ of tradition than⁠ by his own‌⁠⁠ son’s betrayal.

“I’m‍‍ tired of sermons.​‍‌ Just go quietly,⁠‍‌ like the warrior⁠​⁠ you so admire.”⁠‌⁠

With⁠​ that mocking remark,‍ the noble gestured.​‍

Three​‍ knights, who had‌⁠ been conserving their​⁠ strength until then,⁠‌‌ stepped forward.

Their⁠ mounts stomped the‍‌⁠ ground, ready to‌⁠ charge.

“That‍ won’t be possible.”​⁠

“…?”‍‍

Lucian’s‍ voice rang out‌‍‌ from the top​‍‌ of the hill.‍

At‌ the sudden intrusion,‍‌​ the noble frowned.‌‍

“And‌ who are you‍ to meddle in‍⁠ my family’s affairs?”‍

“And​⁠ who are you‍​‌ to meddle in‍⁠‍ mine?”

“…?”‌​

The​​⁠ noble blinked, confused.‌‍ They were the‌⁠ ones intervening, and‌‌ now he was​​‌ being accused?

“What⁠ nonsense are you⁠⁠‍ spouting? Think you’re‍ funny?”

“Not​​ at all. I’m‍‌⁠ serious. Why are​‌‍ you mentioning the‍ house of Count‍⁠ Calix? They’re using⁠‍​ the name Grimaldi‍‌​ without my permission.”‌‍

“…!?”‍⁠

The⁠‍⁠ noble’s face stiffened.⁠ A stranger was‍ speaking of the⁠‌ Grimaldi name as‍ if it were‌⁠ his own.

“Who​‌‍ the hell are‌ you?”

In‌ response to the‌ confused question, Lucian‌ gave a faint​ smile.

“My​‍ name is Lucian‌ Valdeck. Third son​‍⁠ of House Valdeck‍ and maternal grandson‌ of the last⁠ head of House​⁠‌ Grimaldi.”

***​​‍

“…”‍

“…”‍​

When‌⁠ Lucian revealed his⁠ identity, not only⁠‍‍ the noble, but‍​⁠ even the knights‍‌‌ fell silent all​‌ at once.

Especially‍‌ the knights, who‍‍ looked even more‌ confused than the⁠⁠ noble himself, kept‌​⁠ glancing at each​​ other again and‍​ again.

“…Are‍⁠​ you really of‍ Grimaldi blood?”

“You’ve‌‍‌ already heard someone⁠‍‍ else’s name, so‌ now it seems​‍​ like it’s your‍⁠‌ turn to say⁠ yours.”

“Ahem,‍‍​ my apologies. I am Torik Osgor,​‍‌ current head of‍‌​ Baron Osgor’s family.”‌

“What⁠⁠​ nonsense are you‍​ spouting? When did⁠‌⁠ I hand over‍‌ the position of​​⁠ family head to‍ you?”

At⁠⁠​ the old man’s⁠ retort, Torik frowned.‌⁠‍ He threw him‌‍‍ a look that‍‍‌ clearly meant “shut‌‌ your mouth,” but‌‍ the elder snorted⁠ with disdain and⁠⁠⁠ shouted at Lucian.‌‌​

“I’m‍‌ Harald Osgor, current​ head of House⁠‍​ Osgor! Are you​‍‌ truly the grandson‌⁠‍ of Duke Klaus?!”‌‍‍

Klaus​⁠ Grimaldi. Hearing the⁠ name of his‍ maternal grandfather come‍​ from the old‍ man’s mouth, Lucian‌ nodded.

“I‌​‍ swear it by‍⁠‌ the eight gods‍‍ of the sky.​ I am his‌‌‌ blood grandson.”

“Why​​‌ have you come⁠⁠​ to the north​‌ now? I’ve never‍‌​ seen you before‌​ in my life!”⁠

Covered‍ in wounds, Harald⁠ asked with a fierce gaze.

It⁠​ seemed like he⁠​ was blaming him⁠‌​ for showing up‌‍‍ out of nowhere​​ after never setting​ foot in the​‌ north his whole‍⁠‌ life.

Lucian​​ met his gaze‍⁠‌ and answered firmly.⁠

“I’ve⁠⁠‍ come to reclaim​‍ the name of‍​⁠ Grimaldi, which was‌‌ originally mine, and​⁠​ to punish the‍⁠ thief who used‍‍ it as he​ pleased.”

“And‍‌‍ a man who’s​​ not from the​⁠ north has the​‌ right to meddle‌‌ in northern affairs?”‍

“Wherever⁠⁠ I’m from, I’m‌ still his grandson.‍⁠⁠ What more right⁠ do I need‌ to take back​‌‍ what’s mine?”

“And‌‌ what if all‌⁠ the northerners don’t‌​ recognize your right?”‌‌⁠

Harald’s‍​‍ muscles tensed, as⁠ if he might‌‍ hurl his axe‌ at any moment.‌​ But Lucian didn’t⁠⁠ even blink and‍ responded with a cold smile.

“Then‍ I’ll just have​‌⁠ to ask all‌‌ the northerners what​‌ right they have​​ to interfere in​​‌ the affairs of‌​‍ someone else’s family.”​‌

“Hahahah!”‍⁠

Despite​‌ how arrogant the⁠ response was, Harald​ burst into laughter.⁠

Blood​ still flowed from‌‍ his poorly clotted​⁠ wounds, but the⁠ laughter didn’t stop.​‍⁠

“Heh…‍​‌ you really are​ his grandson. This‌‌ brings back memories​‍​ of the old‍ days.”

“Are‌ the questions over?”⁠

“Yes.‍ Welcome to the‍‍​ north, heir of‌​ the Grimaldis. And…”‍​

Harald​ spun his axe‌⁠ once and fixed⁠‍ his gaze on⁠‍ Torik.

“Could‌‍ you lend us‌ a hand? I’m‌ ashamed to say⁠⁠ I ended up​ like this because‌⁠⁠ my own son‌​ stabbed me in​​⁠ the back.”

At‌ Harald’s request for⁠⁠ help, Torik shouted‍⁠‍ urgently.

“You‌‍ don’t need to‌ get involved! This​ is a family‍‍⁠ matter, so just⁠ pretend you didn’t‍‌​ see anything and​‍ leave!”

“And‍​‌ what if I don’t want to?”​

“What?!”​‌‍

“That‌ conversation earlier was‍ pretty interesting. What‌​​ was it again?‍​⁠ Something about benefiting‍‍‌ from the new‍​ order in the​​⁠ north being reorganized⁠⁠‌ by House Calix?”⁠

Damn‌⁠ it! With his‌‍ face twisting in⁠​ fury, Torik quickly⁠‌⁠ scanned Lucian’s group.⁠‍

Then,​‍⁠ as if nothing​‍⁠ had happened, he‍‍⁠ relaxed his expression‍‌‍ and curved his​ lips into a smirk.

“You‍​‍ really think you⁠​ can fight me⁠ with such a pathetic force? Ridiculous.”⁠‍

“And⁠ what do you​⁠ think my force‌‌​ is?”

“A‍ washed-up knight, a mercenary pretending to‍​ be a knight,‍​ and ten nobodies.​ Ah, should I count the young​ master who knows‌​‍ nothing of the‍‌‌ world too?”

“Oh?”​​

Lucian​‍ slightly curled the​⁠ corner of his‌⁠ mouth at Torik’s‍ mocking tone. So‍​⁠ that’s what he​‌ saw.

“Raymond,⁠‌ Felicia. Clear the⁠‌ path. Hugo, lead⁠‍‌ the ten and‍⁠ cover the rear​⁠‌ to prevent them‌⁠ from surrounding those‌​ two.”

“Yes,‍ my lord.”

As⁠ soon as the‍⁠‍ command was given,‍ Raymond and Felicia‌⁠‍ moved to the⁠⁠‌ front, and Hugo‌​ with the ten​ spread out on​⁠‌ either side.

Seeing⁠‍⁠ mere soldiers move⁠ with such coordination⁠‍ made Torik flinch,​​⁠ though he forced⁠ a smile.

“Looks‍​ like you trained‍‌‌ them well. But‌ even if they’re‍‌​ elite, with just‍ ten men…”

“Advance.”‍‍‍

Lucian‌⁠​ gave the order⁠‌⁠ quietly, ignoring Torik.‍

At‌‍​ the same time,‌​ the Black Lion⁠ and the future​ Swordmaster unsheathed their‌ swords and descended⁠ the hill.

***‌‍‍

“…”‍

Torik‌‍ blinked in a daze. He didn’t​ understand what had⁠‍​ just happened.

The‍​ soldiers blocking the⁠‌‍ charge had fallen⁠‍‍ like straw dolls,⁠​‌ and before he​​ realized it, cold‍ steel was already‌ pressed against his‍⁠​ neck.

“If⁠​‍ you move, you’ll‌​ die.”

Hearing‍‌​ Felicia’s voice, Torik​‌​ swallowed hard.

As‍⁠‍ his Adam’s apple‌ shifted, the blade​‍ seemed to press⁠‍ deeper into his‌‍ skin.

“Tell⁠⁠ your soldiers to‌‍‌ drop their weapons.”‍

“That…”‍⁠‌

“Do‍ you want to⁠ die?”

“Drop‌‍‍ your weapons! Everyone,‍ drop your weapons!”​⁠

Feeling​ the blade pierce⁠‍⁠ his neck, Torik​⁠⁠ shouted in terror.​‍‌ The remaining soldiers‍‍‌ obeyed immediately and‍⁠ threw their weapons​ to the ground.​⁠

Once‌ disarmed, Torik looked​ at Felicia with​⁠ trembling eyes.

“W-what‍​ do you plan‍ to do with​‍ me?”

“That​‍ depends on my‌‍ lord’s will.”

“I⁠‍‌ can pay ransom,​‍ ransom! So please…”‌‌

“Shut‍⁠ up.”

At​​ Felicia’s voice, laced⁠‌​ with killing intent,‌‍ Torik had no⁠ choice but to‍⁠ close his mouth.‌

After⁠‍‍ nervously scanning his‌​‍ surroundings, his eyes⁠ eventually landed on‍ the three knights⁠​ who were now​ corpses.

‘When…?’⁠‍

He​‍​ had clearly seen‍⁠‌ one of them‍‌​ fall. The man‌⁠‍ who looked like​‌ a washed-up knight​ had defeated his‍⁠​ own in just‍ three exchanges.

The⁠ problem was the⁠ other two.

‘I‍‍⁠ didn’t even see⁠‍ the movement.’

In​​ the instant the​ swordswoman flicked her‍‌ sword, the two‍ knights had already‌‍ fallen from their​‍​ horses.

Only‌ upon seeing the‌‍ blood soak the​‌​ ground did Torik‌‍​ realize their throats​‌‌ had been cut.⁠‌‍

Realizing⁠​ who the real​​⁠ monster was, a cold sweat ran⁠‍‌ down his forehead.⁠

‘W-what​‍ did I just⁠‍‍ say…?’

“Tsk.”‌⁠

With⁠‌ a click of​ the tongue, two‍⁠ shadows loomed over​ him. Lucian and​ Harald, who had⁠‌ been watching from‌ behind, now stood​‌‌ before him.

“You‍ talk about trends⁠​ and majorities, but‌​‌ you can’t even⁠​​ smell the blood‍‍⁠ right in front​⁠​ of you. Is‌‍ that the politics⁠ you were speaking‍ of?”

“….”‍‌‍

Utterly⁠‍ ashamed, Torik trembled‍‍‌ and lowered his‌​ head, unable to‍⁠‌ say a word.‍ Seeing that, Harald‍​ didn’t add anything‌‍ else and only‍‍ sighed.

“What​⁠ do you wish⁠​‌ to do?”

This‍‍‍ time, Lucian asked‍​ Harald in a respectful tone. It​ was consideration for‌​‌ an elder and‍‍​ respect for a titled noble.

Unlike‌​⁠ during the previous​‌ rebellion, he now‌ held no official‍⁠ position; he was‍ simply the third‍​​ son.

Harald‌ noticed the deference‍ and softened his⁠ tone.

“Just⁠‌​ in case, do‌‌ you have rope?”‍

“Yes.⁠ It’s easy to​​⁠ fall in the‌⁠ snow in the⁠​‌ north, so we‍ brought plenty.”

“Tie​‌⁠ them all up.‌​ I want to​ take them as​‍ prisoners.”

“Are‌ you sure?”

At​​​ Lucian’s question, Harald​ smiled bitterly.

“He’s​⁠ a wretch who‌ even committed unforgivable‌⁠⁠ treason, but he’s‍⁠ still my son.‍​​ I don’t want⁠​ to cut off‌​ his head here.”​⁠‌

“As​‍ you wish.”

Lucian​ gave the order‌‍‍ to the ten‌​ to tie up⁠ the disarmed soldiers.‌ Ten men capturing⁠​‍ more than double‌‍ their number was‍ a truly strange​⁠‍ sight.

While‍‍ silently watching the‌‌‍ prisoners being bound,​‍ Harald turned to​⁠ Lucian and said.​

“You⁠ said you were‍‍ Duke Klaus’s grandson.⁠‌ Let’s talk.”

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