Clang!
Jürgen deflected Bernaph's sword, which came at him head-on, and blocked Caleb's sword, which struck from the side.
But they weren't the only ones attacking.
Whoosh!
A massive steel club swung toward Jürgen's legs—Vulcan's strike. Jürgen saw it and immediately tried to pull his sword free.
Clack!
However, his blade got caught in Caleb's sword breaker. The jagged notches trapped the blade, delaying Jürgen's reaction.
Boom!
"Urgh!"
Jürgen staggered as Vulcan's club slammed into his shin. Even though he poured mana into his defense, the blow seemed to have fractured his bone.
Having already expended much of his strength battling Bernaph, Jürgen couldn't completely block the attack.
Still, the title of "North's Finest Sword" wasn't just for show. Jürgen didn't fall so easily.
"You dare!"
Crunch!
Jürgen poured his mana into his sword and shattered the serrated edges of Caleb's sword breaker, twisting his blade free. Caleb, usually expressionless, stepped back slightly, visibly impressed by the strength on display.
But there was still one more person Jürgen had to deal with.
Thrust!
"Gah!"
Taking advantage of Jürgen's disrupted stance from attacks on both sides, Conrad's rapier pierced his neck with lightning speed.
"You… bastards… grrk!"
Even with a rapier lodged in his throat, Jürgen, powered by immense mana, didn't die so easily.
He raised his sword once more, intent on taking at least one enemy with him. But Caleb, now behind Jürgen, pulled out a dagger and stabbed his neck repeatedly.
Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab!
"Guh… guh!"
The sight of Caleb, emotionlessly stabbing Jürgen over and over, turned the faces of the banquet attendees pale.
"Hey, move aside! The club's coming down!"
Vulcan shouted as he raised his steel club high, prompting Caleb to step back smoothly.
Vulcan gritted his teeth and brought the club down on Jürgen's head with full force.
CRASH!
With a deafening sound, Jürgen's head was crushed instantly.
Thud!
Jürgen's body staggered briefly before collapsing to the floor.
The banquet hall was engulfed in heavy silence. No one dared to speak.
Jürgen, the pride of Rayfold and a symbol of its military might, was dead.
Known for holding his own against 100 knights at once, Jürgen's exploits earned him the title of "North's Finest Sword."
He had countless times fought alone in disputed regions, cutting down dozens of knights by himself.
Yet now, he had fallen pathetically to the coordinated attacks of a ragtag group brought by Amelia.
And not just any group—three individuals had ended him after just a few exchanges. The attack happened so swiftly that no one else had time to intervene.
Standing off to the side after being pushed back by the three attackers, Bernaph wore a sullen expression.
'I've exhausted all my strength....'
This was his chance to shine before Amelia, but it had slipped away again. All he got was exhaustion with no reward.
Pouting slightly, Bernaph's expression caught Amelia's attention, and she shook her head slightly.
She understood perfectly well what he wanted. His feelings were written all over his face—so blatantly that it was both a strength and a weakness.
"Well done, Bernaph. You did a good job."
At her praise, Bernaph's face lit up immediately.
'If I was the first to be praised, then I won this.'
Caleb, Vulcan, and Conrad remained indifferent, but Bernaph, in his mind, had declared victory.
For Bernaph, the competition was always about who could impress Amelia the most—not who actually landed the final blow on Jürgen.
Being the first to receive praise meant he had won. That was all that mattered.
Amelia glanced at Jürgen's corpse and muttered.
"Finally, the most troublesome one is gone. Why couldn't he just trust that we could handle it?"
Amelia had already studied Jürgen's skills and habits thoroughly, devising the perfect strategy to defeat him. It was only Harold's hesitation and lack of trust in her subordinates' abilities that had delayed this outcome.
Harold, of course, had no way of knowing the true extent of the skills possessed by Amelia's men, as she had recruited them on her own.
Among her subordinates, only Vulcan, a notorious bandit, was even somewhat well-known.
"Now, let's clean things up."
Amelia leisurely surveyed the crowd of terrified people who clung to one another.
Count Rayfold had collapsed in shock, sitting on the floor, while the escort knights who had formed a combat formation around him had lowered their swords.
It was over. With Jürgen, their last hope, dead, no one could leave the hall alive without Amelia's permission.
She nodded toward Bernaph and spoke.
"Sort them. Make sure the guests are escorted out safely and respectfully."
Following Bernaph's commands, Amelia's soldiers gathered those they intended to spare—mostly powerless daughters of the Count, a few bureaucrats, and some surrendered knights, as well as nobles invited from other territories.
Count Rayfold, tightly bound, was dragged out separately.
"Let me go! You insolent bastards! I am the lord of this land! Me! I am the one you owe loyalty to, not that wench! I will never forgive this! My army and my vassals are watching closely. They will kill you all!"
No matter how much he shouted, the knights and soldiers gripping him tightly remained expressionless.
The only ones left in the banquet hall were the officials who held power, the military commanders who had attended the banquet, and the Count's sons and relatives in the line of succession.
Amelia raised her hand slightly, and her soldiers quietly surrounded them. Those remaining turned pale and began shouting in terror.
"P-please spare us, Amelia!"
"You can't do this! We're family!"
"Young lady! Please have mercy! We'll pledge our loyalty! We'll follow you unconditionally!"
Their desperate pleas didn't faze Amelia in the slightest.
The moment her hand dropped—
Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!
A volley of bolts from crossbows pierced the bodies of the defenseless nobles and commanders.
"Aaaaaaah!"
Their screams of agony filled the hall as they collapsed, dying swiftly. The floor of the banquet hall was soon soaked in blood.
Those who had been spared and set aside quivered in fear, shrinking into themselves.
"M-my…"
Count Rayfold, his spirit shattered, watched the entire scene unfold with a vacant expression.
"Ugh… ugh…"
He couldn't even form coherent words, emitting only low groans. His legs gave way, but the soldiers holding him didn't allow him to collapse, keeping him upright.
Amelia approached Count Rayfold and locked eyes with him.
"You… you… you…"
The Count, overwhelmed by shock, couldn't finish his sentence.
His own daughter, whom he had barely paid attention to, had stripped him of his power in an instant. His loyal vassals were dead, and his ultimate protector, Jürgen, had been slain.
How could this be real? How could something like this happen?
It had to be a dream—a nightmare.
"You… you…"
He had let her be, thinking her quiet demeanor and lack of interest in marriage would pose no threat.
Even after her engagement with Ghislain Perdium was broken off, he figured her knack for appeasing the serfs would still benefit the family.
But it had all been an act. She had been preparing all along to take his place.
If he had known, he would have married her off to a lower-status family long ago.
"You… you wretched girl… you dare…"
He wanted to curse her, to spew venom, but the words caught in his throat. He couldn't force them out.
"Guh… guh…"
They say power shouldn't even be shared with one's own children.
For Count Rayfold, the betrayal of his daughter was more agonizing than the deaths of his sons or his vassals.
Eyes bloodshot with rage, foam frothing at his mouth, the Count could only glare at Amelia, unable to say another word.
Amelia watched him in silence for a long moment, as though deep in thought. Finally, she spoke a single command.
"Take him away."
"Gah! You! You!"
Even as he was dragged out in disgrace, Count Rayfold turned his head to glare daggers at Amelia.
Their eyes met once more, and Amelia, as if remembering something, spoke.
"Wait."
The soldiers halted. The Count continued to glare at her with seething hatred.
For a moment, Amelia recalled a distant memory of her father when she was a child.
—"Daddy, Daddy!"
—"Oh, my dearest daughter!"
Back then, Count Rayfold had lifted her into the air and embraced her tightly, rubbing his cheek against hers.
Their eyes had met, just like now.
Looking into her father's eyes, she recalled the words she had spoken back then with a bright smile.
Wearing the same smile, Amelia repeated those words.
"Happy birthday, Father."
Today was Count Rayfold's birthday.
***
"Aaaaaaah!"
"Please spare me!"
The night's massacre was not confined to the banquet hall. Military commanders who hadn't attended the banquet were ambushed and killed or captured and executed in various locations.
The same fate awaited the vassals and administrators. Those who opposed Amelia or had looked down on her were all dealt with without exception.
The vacant positions were filled with individuals loyal to her.
As the new day dawned, the ruler of Rayfold had been entirely replaced by Amelia.
Upon hearing the news, the residents of the territory began pouring into the streets, cheering.
"Hurrah! The lord has changed!"
"Lady Amelia is the new Countess!"
"We pledge our loyalty!"
The people were genuinely elated.
Amelia was deeply respected by the people of the estate. She had always cared for them and supported those in need for many years.
Not long ago, she had generously distributed food to those suffering from famine. The stockpile had been acquired cheaply thanks to Ghislain.
Naturally, Count Rayfold and his vassals had criticized her for this.
— "How dare you waste such precious food on those lowly commoners! Retrieve it immediately and place it in the estate's storage!"
— "It's my property; I'll decide how to use it. Without the people, there is no estate. Please treat them with care."
— "You insolent wench! Who do you think you are to speak so arrogantly? Confiscate all of Amelia's food at once!"
Count Rayfold had forcibly taken a portion of the food Amelia had gathered, oblivious to the fact that it was only a small fraction of her stockpile.
The incident spread quickly throughout the estate, almost as if someone had deliberately fanned the flames.
Even though food distribution stopped afterward, the people blamed Count Rayfold, not Amelia. Instead, they praised her for defying her father's wishes to care for them.
Amelia, riding a grand, open carriage usually reserved for victory parades, toured the estate, redistributing food to the people.
The cheers and enthusiasm grew even louder. The people truly welcomed the change of leadership.
As Amelia smiled kindly at the crowd, Bernaph, watching her, shook his head in disbelief.
'Unpredictable, truly unpredictable. Sometimes she seems like a demon, and other times, an angel… Wait, what am I thinking? Of course she's an angel!'
Bernaph slapped his own cheeks several times for having had a disloyal thought.
Amid the crowd gathered around the carriage, a young girl was waving a necklace made of flowers.
Amelia noticed and stopped the carriage, stepping closer to ask.
"Is that for me?"
"Yes!"
The girl nodded enthusiastically, her face flushed with excitement.
"Thank you so much. I'll treasure it."
Amelia placed the flower necklace around her neck and hugged the girl tightly. The necklace was humble and unimpressive, but Amelia treated it as though it were a priceless jewel.
"Wow! She truly is Lady Amelia!"
Meow!
The cheers of the people grew even louder. In the midst of the lively atmosphere, Amelia smiled warmly, but her eyes remained cold and calculating.
'Where could he have gone? Where is he hiding?'
There was a problem during the cleanup of the "banquet."
Among the corpses of the dead, the body of the Fourth Successor, Daven, was missing.
Daven's carriage had been seen at the castle, so it was assumed he was in the banquet hall. Yet not only Daven, but also his personal escort knights and attendants, were nowhere to be found.
Amelia concealed her unease and completed the parade without betraying any hint of worry. For the time being, she planned to continue touring the estate to stabilize public sentiment.
Although she had long been respected, it was essential to quickly and firmly establish that the estate had a new ruler.
After returning to the castle, Amelia tore the flower necklace from her neck and shouted angrily.
"Daven! Has Daven been found?"
"I'm sorry, not yet. We haven't been able to locate him…"
Bernaph stammered as he replied.
Initially, they thought he might be in the restroom or enjoying a tryst in the garden. They believed he couldn't possibly have escaped, as the castle was surrounded.
But no matter how thoroughly they searched, there wasn't a single trace of him.
Amelia, her face contorted with fury, commanded.
"Find that bastard and bring him to me!"
Meow!
"Understood."
Once again chastised, Bernaph slumped and began scouring the entire estate.
Caleb's smuggling crew, Vulcan's bandit group, and Conrad's merchant guild all focused their efforts on locating Daven.
As befitting a great lord of the North, Count Rayfold had numerous personal and political connections. Amelia needed to renegotiate these relationships and forge new agreements with the estate's vassals.
If news spread that Daven was alive, it could cause serious problems. After all, the kingdom did not favor women inheriting titles.
But whether he had vanished underground or flown to the heavens, Daven remained elusive.
Amelia's subordinates retraced Daven's movements and gathered information. After several days, they finally uncovered a clue.
Upon learning of Daven's whereabouts, Bernaph's expression hardened as he muttered to himself.
"He's there? Why? I heard he declined that banquet… Wait, could it be?"
Daven had left the estate over a month ago, leaving behind a double in his place.
At the same time Bernaph discovered Daven's whereabouts, Ghislain was smiling at someone trembling before him.
"I just saved your life."
[T/L: Please support me and read 230 extra chapters: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]