Episode 131 Endless Dream Part 1 - The Saga of Lioncourt

Upon reaching Darmont Castle, I led my army and entered while still mounted. Although this was a significant breach of protocol, I was about to become the sovereign of Count Darmont. As the lord of the castle, I had to conduct myself accordingly. Darmont Castle was a major city with approximately 2100 households and a population likely numbering in the tens of thousands. For comparison, Lioncourt, my own territory's capital, had 1677 households and around 9000 people. The approximation is due to the inability to accurately count the slaves or keep track of the comings and goings of free citizens. There are also the homeless and those who squat in barns and such. Trying to tally them all would be endless. Having a rough estimation usually suffices for practical purposes. As the troops advanced into the city, the urban area became utterly silent... likely because everyone was trembling inside their homes. "It's quiet here," Rolo remarked. "Ah, surely the infamous tales from Bachelard have reached them. They're frightened of me, hiding within their shelters." Rolo seemed cautious of the eerily quiet streets, but it was hard to imagine an ambush occurring in the densely populated urban area where the damage would be catastrophic. It was more natural to assume the populace was simply terrified of us. According to the rumors, the King Varian of Lioncourt, who Count Darmont had allied with, was a ruthless tyrant. As we progressed from the city gates towards the central area, the streets grew more distinguished, and we arrived at the square in front of Count Darmont's palace. Unlike the scale of the Lioncourt estate, this structure was akin to a royal palace. It was, indeed, a magnificent edifice. ...Impressive. One could sense Darmont's strength just from this. Lending a hand in fortifying Count Darmont’s powers might have been a blunder... I'll have to handle him with care from now on... I mentally steeled myself and stepped into the square, where a resounding cheer erupted. Count Draene's separate force welcomed us with enthusiastic applause. "Hurrah!! Waaaah!!" "Ohhhh!!" "Victory to the kingdom!! Long live the kingdom!!" The soldiers boldly celebrated the victory, shouting cheers of hurray from every direction. As we moved deeper amidst the roaring crowd, I was greeted by Count Darmont and the allied nobles who had come to pay homage. "Suppressing the rebellion within the territory is a great relief," I called down from my horse. Count Darmont humbly expressed gratitude, "To have summoned Your Majesty due to my own disgraceful conduct..." This was a pre-arranged demonstration, a key diplomatic act. Count Darmont publicly pledged allegiance to Lioncourt in an official setting, not behind closed doors. "Please, first find comfort in my residence. We have prepared food and drink for your soldiers." "Yes, let us feast." Turning to the soldiers, I spread my arms wide, still on horseback. "Oh, magnificent warriors!! It is a feast!! Quench your thirst with drink, fill your bellies, and restore your spirits!!" Another wave of joyous shouts erupted. Such high morale among the troops from both sides. ...At this rate, there shouldn't be any reckless pillaging... I must thank the count for that... Controlling soldiers requires continually fulfilling their immediate desires. Namely, women, drink, food, violence, and money. As long as these are provided consistently, soldiers won't betray or desert. Conversely, without these, rebellion or desertion is inevitable. It’s only logical that no one works willingly without return. Supplying their demands is commonplace. Thanks to Count Darmont’s preparations for a banquet, the soldiers’ desires are satisfied, reducing friction with the citizens. Though I understand the count’s desire to preserve Darmont's capital, I am, indeed, grateful for the support. With Count Darmont guiding me, I entered the palace. Inside the stone-walled palace hung large tapestries, with chandeliers made of goat horns illuminating the interior. A long hallway stretched straight ahead. ...I see. The tapestries hide soldiers, the long corridors and chandeliers are defenses against attacks. The palace indeed seemed equipped with defensive functionalities. Corridors were lengthy to hinder mass entry. Few windows and the use of chandeliers allowed for quick extinguishment to hinder any intruder. This palace serves as the last stronghold should enemies invade Darmont Castle... It’s not just a grand construction without purpose. Reaching the hall, I plopped down on the lord's chair. This also was part of the demonstration. "Apologies, but please bear with this." "No worries, it's a necessary act." Whispering to Count Darmont at my side, I found the rationalist count seemingly unaffected. Yet, his unreadable expression left me uncertain of his thoughts, causing me to mind my own. With everyone gathered, I loudly addressed Count Darmont—though he was right beside me, my volume aimed to ensure everyone heard. It felt foolish, yet customary. "Before beginning the feast, let’s deal with the traitors." "Understood. Bring forth the ringleaders of the rebellion—Charlo, Clement, and Bizet!" At the count's command, the castle guards swiftly escorted the three before us. Count Draene's separate force had crushed Charlo and Bizet’s armies, who were key figures in the revolt, and captured their base, Bizet Castle. Charlo and Bizet had already surrendered and were held captive. Charlo, being in his mid-30s with a broad chest, resembled Count Darmont with his stout beard. Clement was a plump boy in his early teens, while Knight Bizet, a dour-looking elder, epitomized a staunch warrior. Given that Charlo and Clement were the count's brothers, their resemblance made sense, but there was a similar air about Bizet as well... Perhaps they're related. They all had blond hair. ...Hmm, Clement’s just a kid, no wonder he didn't participate in battle... I nodded internally, understanding that Knight Auge likely exploited young Clement as a puppet. With Auge's prowess, he could have certainly succeeded... Had we not arrived, he might have. Clement glared, grinding his teeth at me. "Got something to say, kid?" I inquired, and Clement's face flared with anger. "How dare you! Why are you seated in that chair!? You insolent fool!!" Clement seemed rash and had been coddled... utterly unaware of the situation. ...Well, given his birth late in the previous count’s life, he was likely spoiled... I let out a deliberate sigh. "You don't recognize this spectacle, fool? Even a child, sharing Darmont’s blood, should see clearer than you." My words were an apparent insult; clearly, someone in their early teens can’t be called an infant. It was akin to scoffing at a middle schooler with “Aren’t you a baby?” Incidentally, I wore the replica crown and scepter, making it obvious that I was the king. Of course, even though there was no material difference, it would be imprudent to carry the genuine articles around. Clement's face turned beet red as he began to shout in response to my words, but that was the extent of his reaction. Finding the noise bothersome, I ordered for silence, prompting Daumier to forcefully pin Clement to the floor. Though Clement attempted to continue causing a commotion, Daumier was unyielding, driving his thumb painfully into Clement's armpit. The seemingly minor action induced immediate cries of pain from Clement. "Count, does it trouble you to judge your own brother?" "Though he led the villains who threatened my wife and children... putting my own brother to death is indeed difficult." In response to my question, the count made a startling declaration. While Count Darmont casually mentioned it, stating "threatened my wife and children" was quite severe. It seems unlikely that Auge would have actively killed the count's family. Naturally, killing hostages would defeat the purpose... In fact, during negotiations with me, Auge persistently emphasized having the count’s family in his custody, fully intending to use them as bargaining tools. If, following the battle, the family died at the hands of the Clement faction who opened the gates without resistance after Auge's death, it implies they deliberately killed the count’s family. Could something so absurd actually occur? ...I see, it appears they are wholeheartedly prepared to accept my sister... The count blatantly declared he found punishing his own painful—clearly a pretense to avoid the stigma of "familicide." Once again, I sensed the unfathomable eeriness of Count Darmont. "Well, it's fine. Hey, Charlo!" Upon hearing me call out, Charlo, previously silent, straightened up in alarm and responded, "Yes." A commendable reply indeed. "Listen well, Charlo. If you execute Clement and Bizet by your own hand, I will protect you and your family." My proposal left Charlo momentarily dumbfounded, shaking slightly as he grasped the implications. Clement hurled curses at me, while Bizet looked heavenward, appearing to have relinquished hope. "That... is too much..." Charlo barely managed those words. It wasn’t easy—being told to slay a loyal retainer and his own brother, who had opposed him at their expense. Yet, it was necessary. If Clement, still young, and Bizet, a local power, are executed normally, the ire of the territory would likely turn towards Count Darmont and me. Allowing them to live would also sow seeds for future trouble. This proposal was crafted to avoid those outcomes. Should Charlo execute the two himself, he would bear the brunt of public dissatisfaction as someone who cowardly sacrificed a loyal retainer and his brother to save his hide... or rather, he would be maneuvered into that position. Clement and Bizet’s execution with Charlo's survival would seem grossly unjust. Thus, if rumors spread suggesting Charlo negotiated "something," the citizens will fabricate their own explanations. Such is the nature of rumors. By casting Charlo as the "villain," we divert anger away from us—it's a common tactic. Furthermore, by ensuring Charlo’s protection under my authority, it implicitly pressures Count Darmont through the unspoken message: "You can be replaced." Charlo, after all, is the count's older brother. Should Count Darmont oppose Lioncourt, deploying forces to "replace" him would serve as a viable option. ...Of course, that would be the last resort... "Cut off their heads, but should you refuse, all three of you will face execution by quartering." "Quartering!? That's far too cruel..." Charlo cried out, near shrieking. Quartering is a severe punishment. Strangled repeatedly, revived, and punished by having their living body sliced apart. Flesh is stripped with heated pliers, genitals and internal organs are removed for them to witness. Ultimately, their limbs are severed and displayed separately. The imagination alone conjures a horrific image. Incidentally, should I be captured alive by Amoros, such a fate might await—I shudder at the thought. "Do it. There's no way King Lioncourt would mistreat Lord Charlo." Breaking his silence, Bizet addressed Charlo in a persuasive tone, understanding my intent from his words. "Uncle... That's such harsh advice." "No, having failed in our endeavor, I do not wish to prolong." Though Charlo and Bizet shared a tearful exchange, it seemed they reached a conclusion. No time to waste, the execution is set for tomorrow before the citizens. Clement, unable to grasp the rapid turn of events, wept loudly, while Charlo slumped in despair. Bizet calmly left the hall. As they departed, Count Darmont murmured, "Impressive, truly formidable." Unable to discern his true sentiments, and with no desire to interrogate him in front of everyone, I chose to let it pass. “Sorry to keep you waiting! Now it’s time for the feast!” At my proclamation, barrels of alcohol were brought in. Finally, the celebration of victory could begin.