assistirfilmes Chapter 345: Chapter 344: Let’s Make the Return Easier (3)
Chapter 345: Chapter 344: Let’s Make the Return Easier (3)
Chapter 345: Chapter 344: Let’s Make the Return Easier (3)
"Guh... you crazy bastard..."
Martin, coughing up blood and foam, stared in disbelief even as he was dying.
King of Mercenaries? He had never heard of such a title, nor could he imagine one existing.
It was well-known that Count Fenris was a madman. Naturally, everything coming out of his mouth sounded insane.
'How could I be this unlucky?'
Martin couldn't believe he was dying at the hands of a lunatic.
"My father... will... definitely kill you all... tear you apart..."
Spitting out curses until the end, Martin finally breathed his last amidst the agony.
The Drake Mercenaries stared at Martin's corpse with heavy expressions.
Though exacting their revenge was satisfying, they couldn't help but worry about the aftermath.
Ghislain, however, seemed unconcerned, smiling as he turned to Dominic.
"How do you feel? Better now?"
"Yes... it's refreshing, but..."
"No need to worry so much. What kind of mercenary gets this timid? We'll fight and win later if we have to."
||
"1
Killing the son of the most powerful noble in the west and not worrying about it seemed absurd.
Dominic realized just how vast the difference between himself and Ghislain was.
So vast that Ghislain seemed somewhat unhinged in comparison.
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
Just then, the sound of hooves grew louder as a group of soldiers approached.
Dominic shook off his thoughts and mounted his horse.
"Prepare for battle!"
At his command, the mercenaries formed ranks and gripped their weapons.
The approaching army consisted of the city guards and Martin's private troops.
Arriving before the mercenaries, the captain of the city guards glared at Dominic and snarled.
"Dominic! You've finally caused trouble! Where is the young lord?!"
Dominic turned to Ghislain and gave a slight nod.
"Allow me to handle this from here."
Then he threw Martin's corpse at the captain, shouting:
"He held my family hostage and killed them, so I killed him. This was rightful vengeance." "What? What?! Are you insane?!"
The captain's face turned pale.
The young lord of Marquis Rodrick's house, slain by mere mercenaries?
If this wasn't resolved properly, the entire city guard could face severe punishment.
"We... we must kill these bastards right now..."
The captain couldn't finish his order, cowed by the menacing aura of the mercenaries.
'If we fight, we die.'
Though the city guards numbered nearly a thousand, the Drake Mercenary Corps had close to two thousand, even with some members still out on missions.
As the largest mercenary group in the west, the Drake Mercenaries were highly experienced and carried an intimidating reputation.
'If we fight, we'll lose. Even if we win, it'll be a near-total annihilation.'
Truthfully, the captain wasn't confident they could win.
Most of his troops had little to no combat experience.
For ordinary people, mercenaries like the Drake Corps were not to be trifled with.
'What do I do?'
Returning empty-handed would mean death, but fighting would also mean death.
The captain's conflicted expression betrayed his inner turmoil as he hesitated to make a decision.
Seeing this, Dominic spoke with a relaxed expression.
"Report it as a disappearance."
"What?"
"Most people don't know what's happened here. Say the young lord went on an outing with the dead knights and soldiers and never returned. Isn't that simpler?"
The captain swallowed hard, unable to respond.
Though it might buy time, Marquis Rodrick was not someone easily fooled. Eventually, an investigation would uncover the truth.
As the captain hesitated, Dominic continued persuading him.
"You don't have any other options. Either you fight and die here, or you confess and die later
at the Marquis's hands. Isn't it better to buy some time and figure it out?"
"...Ugh."
"Just keep everyone quiet. No one wants to die, so they'll stay silent."
"But it'll eventually come out."
"Then blame it on us. Say we kidnapped him."
Even then, the punishment would likely be death. Marquis Rodrick was a ruthless man.
Still, delaying death seemed preferable to dying immediately.
They could manipulate and hide information for as long as possible, then flee if it seemed like
the truth would come out.
"Fine, I understand."
The captain ultimately accepted Dominic's proposal.
Martin was not a leader worthy of loyalty. The captain could only move to protect his own life.
Ghislain glanced at the city guard and Martin's private soldiers, smirking.
"Pathetic compared to the north."
Noble families often recorded their achievements, sometimes even embellishing them.
The issue wasn't the recording itself.
"Why are you writing it yourself?"
Typically, such work was done by appointed scribes, not the head butler.
But Claude shamelessly replied: "Everyone's busy, and no one writes better than I do. I'm a master of both penmanship and prose."
Claude insisted it was part of his duties, and Wendy couldn't argue.
She couldn't stop him outright, especially since he claimed it was necessary.
Meanwhile, he instructed scribes who handled official documents to create identical copies of
his writings.
Though suspicious, Wendy accepted his explanation that they were to be distributed to
multiple people.
Using his authority as head butler, Claude steadily diverted the Count's items.
He also did a lot of suspicious things.
"Oh, I, the head butler, have to check the lord's clothes? The ceremonial management isn't
something that only the head maid can do."
"Bring the lord's weapons. I have to check their condition."
"Hmm, these don't look so good. Set them aside. I'll send the workshop for any
shortcomings."
"Oh, tell the head maid to send the ones that need to be thrown away here. I'll have to check
them one last time."
He convinced others it was necessary for his work, fooling everyone around him.
Claude's trusted aides helped him handle and secretly sell these items. Initially, managing the secrecy was challenging, especially hiding it from Wendy. In addition,
he secretly spread rumors to his followers through merchants.
'Haha, this was a critical moment, but we got through it safely.'
It was hard at first, but after his confidants figured out Claude's intentions, everything was
communicated with just a nod.
Eventually, Claude's efforts bore fruit, leading to the creation of a clandestine auction house. Though it started small, the operation grew.
By the time Wendy discovered it, it was too late-the items were sold, and the auction house
had expanded significantly. Claude had used his brilliant mind to deceive everyone in the territory and created a new business.
Wendy was left biting her nails.
'What should I do? How should I report this?'
It wasn't embezzlement or exploitation.
Claude had built a legitimate business, using the profits to hire workers.
He was cunning enough not to touch anything Belinda might take back.
He only sold items deemed disposable. Even so, Wendy knew selling the lord's belongings was wrong.
But the scale of the operation made it difficult to take immediate action.
Claude glanced at Wendy's expression and laughed to himself.
'Hehehe, you're secretly weak-hearted, aren't you? It'll be hard to report it since there are so many
people involved.'
Everyone, from the scribes to the sellers, was working without sleeping. Since they were all
doing it willingly, there was no reason to stop it.
Wendy had no idea what to do about this.
It was a mistake, but it wasn't a big mistake. In some ways, she could have just turned a blind
eye and let it slide. She had to stop it now, but the atmosphere wasn't easy.
Claude whispered to Wendy.
"Just let it go. It's too late now. Besides, you've been watching this unfold without doing
anything for a while, haven't you?"
Wendy glared at him, but Claude simply turned away, grinning smugly.
He was infuriating.
Claude wasn't just involving scribes; he had also mobilized artists.
"Alright, the writers are hard at work, so let's get all the painters together!"
The artists gathered, and Claude inspected their work before scowling. "Why are the portraits so exaggerated? People are complaining they're too unrealistic!"
The painters bit their lips, feeling wronged.
Claude was the one who insisted on making the portraits overly flattering, yet he feigned
ignorance now that there were complaints.
He was shameless.
"Redo them! This time, tone down the artificial beauty."
"Y-yes, sir..."
"Anyway! We've received a lot of refund requests and reorders. Scrap everything you've done
so far and start over!"
"But... we've already made five hundred copies..."
"Five hundred, five thousand, doesn't matter! This is about credibility! Work through the
night if you have to!"
The painters turned pale.
The man who cared least about credibility was now shouting about it. They wanted to punch
him.
Claude clenched his fist and shouted enthusiastically:
"Come on, let's push through! We can do it if we try!"