HGOS – Chapter 28

“That bloody wench!”

Crash!

The glass thrown to the floor shattered into pieces. The butler, standing beside Viscount Viche, flinched, watching his master’s mood carefully.

“Huh? A million gold coins? A million?”

“Even with that amount, it won’t be easy to hire another a barbarian subjugation force…”

“Shut up! You think I don’t know that?!”

“Then perhaps, it might be better to accept her offer… I heard the barbarians are starting to move again. We need to decide quickly.”

“Accept it? If I accept, do you think this will be the end of it? Once I give in, she’ll spout the same crap next time, and the time after that!”

“Well, yes, we’ll have to start paying full price from next time onward.”

“You stupid bastard!”

The viscount stomped his foot. The butler flinched again.

“As if it wasn’t bad enough she stole my damn dog, what’s next?!”

Your dog? The butler sighed quietly at the Viscount’s ridiculous words.

“How in the world did it come to this…”

“My Lord!”

Just then, a servant burst in without waiting for permission, shouting urgently. A castle guard followed behind in a hurry.

“What now?!”

“We’ve got an emergency. The barbarians have left their territory and are marching toward the castle!”

“What… What did you say?!”

“Looks like they have demands they intend to deliver directly. We need to send a subjugation force immediately.”

The Viscount’s face turned pale.

Clearly, the barbarians had given up trying to negotiate with him and were coming to deliver their ‘demands’ personally. Of course, he had no intention of listening to them, or negotiating at all.

The butler, who had been silently watching, leaned in and asked softly.

“You’ll be requesting help from Baron Greze, won’t you? Otherwise, this will get out of hand.”

Strangely, the viscount’s expression eased despite the butler’s prodding. He stroked his chin, as if struck by inspiration, and even let out a faint smile.

“This might actually work out in our favor.”

***

News of the barbarians marching toward the castle quickly reached Zester and the subjugation force he had assembled.

It was the most flustered Cassia had ever seen him. He fumbled repeatedly as he changed into his field armor in a hurry.

“But we haven’t finalized the compensation with the viscount yet…”

Cassia mumbled while biting her nails. Zester turned to her, clearly bewildered.

“You think money matters right now?”

“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant.”

If the barbarians had left their territory and were advancing, it was inevitable the villagers would suffer. They weren’t her people, but she couldn’t just look the other way. The garrison forces of Viche Viscountry alone were far from enough to fend off the barbarians.

Worried that she might have seemed heartless, Cassia blushed, only to jump slightly as Zester suddenly gripped her shoulders and locked eyes with her. His voice was solemn.

“I swear on my life, I won’t let a single one of those barbarian bastards set foot in this castle. Not while you’re in it.”

“…Huh?”

His focus seemed misplaced. With eyes blazing, Zester appeared to be more worried about Cassia being in danger than the villagers.

“If I had known this would happen, I never would’ve brought you here, not even if it killed me. Damn it. Damn it, damn it!”

He went back to hurriedly fastening his armor.

“Baron!”

At that moment, the door burst open. Viscount Viche stormed in, his face full of panic. He ran straight up to Zester, stomping his feet in agitation.

“Baron, you must set out immediately…”

“Yes, I was just about to leave.”

“Viscount, I hate to intrude,” Cassia interjected, “but could we resolve the compensation matter right now?”

Both men turned toward her.

‘This vicious wench.’

The viscount cursed her internally and put on a show of hesitation, mumbling regretfully.

“I’d appreciate a little more time to think about that… The situation here hasn’t been good… I truly am sorry to delay.”

“Cassia, now’s not the time to argue over payment. We can discuss that after the battle. Please, don’t worry and just wait safely. Alright?”

He’d been silent during the dinner negotiations but now suddenly played the hero. The viscount smirked inwardly at Zester’s firm tone.

Cassia longed to slap that smug, pitiful look right off the viscount’s face. His intentions were plain as day: once the subjugation was complete, he’d no longer be desperate and would have no incentive to agree to anything.

And this nonsense about the territory’s poor state? Ridiculous. Among the northern domains, Viche was considered quite wealthy. Of course, that was only because their stingy lord refused to invest in training a proper garrison.

‘He really doesn’t get it, does he? This isn’t a one-time deal. Does he think he can wiggle out of this now and everything will be fine?’

Cassia was itching to tear into him with a scathing speech, but now wasn’t the time. Zester was clearly set on going, and she didn’t want to see innocent people slaughtered either.

The viscount was probably secretly pleased with how things were playing out, how the barbarians had made the first move and created a sense of urgency.

No matter what she said, the foolish Zester wouldn’t understand her reasoning. He’d probably think she was just a greedy woman obsessed with money.

Cassia clenched her teeth and glared at the viscount.

“Viscount, please take care of my wife. I’ll make sure those barbarian bastards don’t set a foot in this castle.”

“No need to worry! I’ll assign my finest guards to protect her. You just wipe those monsters out to the last!”

“You can count on me.”

“Thank you, truly.”

The viscount shook Zester’s hand eagerly, his greedy face twitching with satisfaction.

‘He thinks he can get away with that cheap handshake instead of paying a million gold…’

Imagining how many times Zester had been taken advantage of this way made Cassia’s head throb. She sighed deeply as she watched the two men.

***

Jerome, the chief of the Rakan tribe, was at a loss.

They had been marching toward the castle. Despite contacting Viscount Viche dozens of times, they had been met with silence. The Rakan, unlike their brutal reputation, had made a polite request: they wanted to end their wandering life and settle in the territory.

‘So this is why he never answered us, he was planning to stab us in the back!’

On the road to the castle, a spear had suddenly flown through the air, piercing the chest of one of his tribesmen. After that, it was hell.

The combined forces of a subjugation unit, apparently hired by the Viscount and the castle guard matched them in numbers. However, the Viscount’s private solders were by no means a useful force and had quickly collapsed.

‘But who the hell is that?!’

The real problem was the mercenaries, and the red-haired stranger leading them. Effortlessly slicing through the Rakan beasts, the man looked like the god of war himself.

The Rakan still had the advantage in numbers, but at this rate, they’d all be slaughtered. The mercenaries were unnervingly skilled, each worth a hundred men. And their leader, the redhead who seemed completely unfazed by wounds or blood, charged like a demon across the battlefield.

“Jerome! We need to do something, or we’ll all be wiped out!”

“What are we supposed to do?!”

Jerd, the chieftain and Jerome’s half-brother, gasped for breath as he spoke to Jerome. Both of them were in terrible shape.

The dark hair of the barbarian chiefs was matted with blood the color of their own crimson eyes.

“I’ll hold them off somehow. You slip past the subjugation force and go to the viscount’s castle.”

“The castle?”

“Yes. Those mercenaries are working for the viscount. They follow his orders. Rather than sitting here and getting butchered, we should take him hostage and force a response.”

Jerome gasped at Jerd’s words. It was a clever plan. If the viscount’s life were in danger, he’d have no choice but to call off the subjugation.

“From the looks of it, even if we retreat to the valley below the Basque Mountains, they’ll chase us all the way. So pretend to retreat, disguise a few men, sneak around the terrain, and storm the castle. Bring back the viscount. It’s the only way we survive.”

Jerd hadn’t been made chief for nothing. He was right, that was their only chance. Jerome wiped the blood from his face and nodded. His red eyes gleamed.

***

The barbarian tribe from the Basque Mountains, who had plagued the Viche domain, were misunderstood.

Driven down from the mountains by the harsh northern winter, they had taken illegal refuge within Viche’s territory. Yes, that was a crime. But contrary to popular rumor, they had never raided villages or committed murder.

The Rakan were a gentle tribe. They had sent letters to the castle, pleading for a place to settle.

But the viscount had no intention of accepting them. He saw them only as mouths to feed. Instead, he spread false rumors, hoping others might pity his situation and send aid at a discount.

No one offered, probably thinking that it was someone else’s problem, but in the end, he got lucky and was able to exploit Jester again.

Perhaps this was karma for his wickedness?

“L-l-let’s use words. Words.”

No one knew how they’d slipped past the subjugation force, but with the castle emptied of guards, three barbarians and three of their Rakan beasts had made it in. Each beast was worth twenty men, and the castle was captured with ease.

Now, faced with the terrifying intruders, Viscount Viche had wet himself. Jerome’s blood-red eyes glared at him.

“We asked for help because we were desperate. That was all. And yet you decided to slaughter us. We cannot forgive that.”

“H-hey! T-Things happened and—.”

“Silence. Order the subjugation force to stop killing our people.”

“H-how am I supposed to do that?!”

“Go there yourself!”

“W-wait! Hold on!”

Jerome slung him over his shoulder. The viscount’s eyes rolled frantically.

Fortunately, it didn’t seem the barbarians intended to kill him, yet. They appeared to be taking him as a hostage in hopes of saving what was left of their people from Zester’s hand.

“The man you sent, the subjugation leader, we will have his head! We lost many to him. We cannot let him live. Tell him to surrender now!”

“W-what?!”

The viscount was dumbfounded. As if Zester would obey an order to die. He might be a fool, but not that foolish. He’d die too if he followed them now. These barbarians were clearly beyond reason.

As he felt more warmth trickling down his legs, a sudden thought struck him.

Cassia. The Baroness of Greze. She was still here in the castle.

“L-listen! Think about it! Even if he’s my mercenary, no one willingly dies on command. Dragging me there won’t work, he won’t comply. But…”

Jerome’s eyes wavered.

“But there’s another way. A way to save your tribe and get that bastard’s head!”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not! I swear!”

He seemed genuinely confident. Jerome, slightly taken in, asked with narrowed eyes.

“…What way?”

Got him! The viscount sighed in relief and shouted:

“His wife! That subjugation leader’s wife is here in this castle! She’ll make a far better hostage than me!”

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