Translator: CinderTL
Derrick Heller's warhorse kicked up a cloud of dust as he reined it in before the Lord's Manor. Dismounting, his cloak still flecked with grass clippings from his ride, sweat streamed down his taut face.
"General! Earl!" He strode into the war council chamber, his voice hoarse from hurried breathing. "Windbreath Fortress is on the verge of chaos!"
Harrison Abbott, who had been studying a map of the eastern Rocky Mountains, let his tactical pointer fall with a thud onto the sand table. Earl Duke surged to his feet, his right hand instinctively gripping the hilt of his sword.
"Abal has returned?" Harrison asked grimly, his gaze darting toward the fortress walls.
"No, it's internal," Derrick replied, shaking his head. He quickly recounted his encounter with a mysterious spellcaster on the road. "He said a rebellion is brewing within Windbreath Fortress."
Harrison's knuckles tapped a dull rhythm against his sword scabbard. "Could this be remnants of House Bradley who haven't been captured yet?"
A cold glint flashed in Earl Duke's eyes. "Or perhaps those treacherous Orc bastards who feigned surrender."
Harrison had already moved to the fortress defense map on the wall. "We need to immediately reinforce all four gates. And..." His finger traced across strategic locations: the granary, the armory, and other critical points.
"Send patrols to monitor the Orc settlement," Earl Duke suggested. "If any disturbances are detected, eliminate them without hesitation!"
As Harrison's fingers traced key defensive points on the map, the light patter of footsteps echoed from the corridor.
Prince Yuriko's attendant entered the war room carrying a tray. Parchment invitations emitting a heavy rose fragrance lay within, jarringly out of place with the room's tense atmosphere.
"Your Highness invites you to a peace banquet tonight," the attendant announced, his voice as smooth as honey. "He has personally commissioned Crystal Glare's finest bard to compose a song of reconciliation between the Watchers and the surrendered Orcs."
Derrick noticed Earl Duke glaring awkwardly at the invitations, his hand frozen mid-air, making no move to take one.
Harrison accepted an invitation. "Reply to His Highness," he instructed, gently placing the parchment back on the tray. "We will attend promptly."
After the attendant departed, Derrick couldn't resist saying, "General, if the riot rumors are true, this hardly seems like an appropriate time for a banquet."
"To be honest, I almost hope the rumors are true," Harrison said with a sudden, cold smile. "It's easier to deal with those troublemakers when they all come out into the open at once instead of lurking in the shadows."
As night fell, Harrison and his party rounded the yew hedge in the castle garden when a blinding red light suddenly tore through the darkness.
A signal flare exploded over the eastern part of the city, bathing the entire street in a crimson glow. Seconds later, a second and third flare shot into the sky—the agreed-upon signal for urgent military action.
"It's the Orcs!" Earl Duke drew his sword, its blade gleaming coldly in the flare's fading light. "I knew those mongrels never intended to surrender sincerely!"
"Stick to the plan," Harrison said, mounting his horse. He glanced back at the brightly lit banquet hall, where figures could already be seen moving through the stained-glass windows.
Earl Duke also cast a final look at the banquet hall doors. They had deliberately arrived late, ensuring Yulga and the other Orcish commanders would already be inside.
The Old Knight sneered. "Let's hope His Highness doesn't choke on reconciliation tonight."
Derrick raised his sword, commanding the cavalry behind him, "Seal off all nearby streets!"
He then strode up to the second-floor banquet hall. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across his stern face as the sounds of music and laughter drifted from within. Prince Yuriko reclined in a gilded chair, raising his goblet in jovial conversation with his Orcish subordinates.
Derrick hurried to Prince Yuriko's side, bowing slightly and lowering his voice. "Your Highness, there's an urgent military matter that requires your immediate attention."
Yuriko turned his bleary gaze, recognizing the cavalry commander from the Northwest Legion. "Now? Can't you see I'm hosting a banquet?" He waved dismissively, signaling a servant to refill his wineglass. "Whatever it is, wait until the banquet is over."
"This is of grave importance, Your Highness," Derrick insisted, his tone firm. "General Harrison and Earl Duke are waiting downstairs."
Yuriko frowned reluctantly, pushing his wineglass aside. He rose unsteadily, his cloak nearly knocking over a silver candelabrum. "It had better be truly urgent... Why didn't they come up here themselves?"
Derrick stepped aside to let the prince pass.
But the moment Yuriko stepped onto the staircase, the half-closed doors of the second-floor banquet hall burst open with a thunderous crash. Armored Imperial soldiers flooded in like a metallic tide, the barrels of their weapons gleaming coldly in the candlelight.
"Have you all lost your minds?!" Yuriko stumbled back, clutching the railing. "Are these imbeciles trying to stage a mutiny?!"
Derrick ignored the prince's furious roars, his icy gaze sweeping across the banquet hall.
"The orcs within the city have rioted!" Derrick's voice was as cold as ice. "Regrettably, we don't have time to determine whether any of you are involved."
Two long tables lined the hall, one occupied by humans and the other by orcs, providing the soldiers with clear targets.
The human nobles and servants, realizing the gravity of the situation, scrambled for the walls in terror, desperate to avoid the impending chaos.
Kargak, the orc chieftain seated at the banquet, suddenly lunged to his feet, tearing the velvet tablecloth aside with a savage rip. Shattered porcelain and silverware scattered across the floor.
"Cowards!" he roared, hurling a dinner knife. "This is human hon—"
"Fire!" Derrick ordered.
The deafening volley of gunfire drowned out Kargak's bellow. Lead bullets tore through his chest in an instant, splattering foul-smelling blood across the portraits on the wall.
Staggering backward, he crashed into a stained-glass window. Amidst the brittle shattering of glass, he watched his fellow orcs fall like stalks of wheat before a scythe.
Yuriko collapsed to the ground, his teeth chattering uncontrollably.
"All clear! Forty-eight orcs in total, not a single one escaped!" An officer kicked aside an orc corpse blocking his path and approached Derrick to report.
Derrick gazed out the window. The fires in the eastern district had stretched the clock tower's shadow long across the night sky.
"Escort His Highness to safety. We'll assist Generals Harrison and Duke."
The eastern sky glowed crimson from torches and artillery fire. In the narrow streets, orc rioters wielded makeshift iron bars and axes, smashing shop doors and setting stockpiled goods ablaze.
Lacking high-ranking commanders, they fought in disorganized pockets, like headless flies. The Imperial Army's response proved far swifter than they'd anticipated.
Cannons sealed off the streets, and rows of soldiers with muskets greeted them. After each dazzling volley, the rioters fell in droves.
In just four hours, the rebellion neared its end. The remaining rioters attempted to storm the city gates in a desperate escape, but none succeeded.
(End of the Chapter)
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