So much so, that a saying spread among the people:
"No amount of wealth or followers can protect your life. If you've become the target of the Black Moon, prepare for death."
Arrogant as it may have sounded, that was the level of fear the Black Moon commanded—until their leader made a fatal mistake.
'The problem was when they started assassinating nobles,' Max thought.
To be honest, the noble who was killed wasn't anyone significant—just a rural baron on the Empire's far edge. His fief consisted of nothing more than a tiny village. The leader of the Black Moon had seen this contract as insignificant.
"It should be fine. It's just a rural baron," he had thought.
Who would care about the death of a minor noble from a backwater region? Nobody in the capital would even notice. In contrast, commoners would grow more fearful of the Black Moon, knowing that even nobles could fall at their hands.
