The fact that the murdered nobles were precisely those who had suggested poisoning William inevitably led to some unpleasant speculation among the others. However, without concrete evidence, they could only harbor suspicions.
William cast a glance at the noble who had spoken in an accusatory tone but ignored him entirely. Instead, he pulled up a chair, sat opposite the group, and said indifferently, "You all still have the leisure to worry about where I've been? Shouldn't you be more concerned about your own predicament? No wonder, even with so many of you banding together, Arcadio can still drag you out one by one and slaughter you like pigs!"
The nobles were incensed by his words. One of them shouted angrily, "If it weren't for you and Kuro, those two despicable scoundrels, how could Arcadio have pushed us into such a dire situation?"
"Yes, Kuro and I are indeed scoundrels," William replied casually, "but at least we understand the principle of repaying kindness. Count Arcadio raised us up—should we not help him? Should we help you instead?"
"Enough," Count Rielde interjected, stopping his subordinates from further escalating the conflict.
"Captain Stolt, the reason we've summoned you here today is to ask: do you and your men belong to the armed forces of Navia Kingdom, or are you merely Arcadio's private militia?"
William replied calmly, "Of course, we belong to the Navia Kingdom."
"In that case, I hope you will prioritize the nation's interests above all else," Count Rielde said.
"And what do you mean by that?" William sneered. "His Majesty the King places great trust in Count Arcadio. I'm merely following the king's wishes."
"Even His Majesty can be deceived at times," Count Rielde said, his tone heavy. "It is during such moments that we see who the true loyalists to the kingdom are."
As he spoke, Count Rielde discreetly signaled to a noble standing on the edge of the group. The man slowly moved toward the corner of the room.
Having practiced swordsmanship for years, William was highly perceptive, his eyes and ears attuned to every detail. Naturally, he noticed their movements. A faint smirk of mockery tugged at the corners of his lips.
"You've said so much, but all you're trying to do is get me to abandon Arcadio and side with you. The problem is, why should I? Why should I betray him for a few grand-sounding words? Everything you've said could just as easily have come out of Arcadio's mouth."
"What do you want?" Count Rielde asked, suppressing his anger.
"I want command over the kingdom's other standing armies," William said, making an outrageous demand.
"That's impossible!" Count Rielde refused flatly. "The command of the kingdom's standing armies can only be entrusted to true nobles!"
William smirked. It seemed that not all nobles were fools. However, the rigid class system had bred a disconnection from reality among many of them. After this incident, it appeared they had finally begun to grasp the importance of military strength.
"Fine. Then I want exclusive rights to the alcohol trade," William said.
Count Rielde could no longer contain his fury. To him, William had no intention of negotiating in good faith and showed no respect for the true nobility.
With a wave of his hand, the noble who had moved to the corner of the room pulled a rope. William's keen hearing picked up the faint sound of bells ringing outside.
Count Rielde stared coldly at William, whose expression remained impassive. As time passed, the room and its surroundings remained eerily quiet. The cold determination on Count Rielde's face gradually gave way to beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Meanwhile, William's lips curled into a mocking smile.
The noble in the corner grew desperate, pulling the rope repeatedly. The bells outside rang more urgently, but the room remained silent and still.
...
In a room not far from the meeting hall, Edmond was calmly wiping his dagger with a deerskin cloth.
He tossed the blood-soaked deerskin to the floor, which was already littered with the bodies of bloodied guards.
The door creaked open from the outside, and Edmond turned to see Aramis slipping into the room.
"I thought you'd still be flirting with that maid," Edmond said with a grin.
Aramis raised an eyebrow. "I knocked her out and dumped her in some deserted corner."
Edmond's gaze shifted to the bell hanging in one corner of the room. It had been ringing incessantly, grating on his nerves. He walked over, yanked the bell down, and tossed it aside.
Finally, the room fell silent. Edmond glanced at the bell, then at the guards sprawled on the floor, and sneered. "These nobles really are frogs in a well. Did they think a bunch of useless thugs like this could possibly subdue William?"
"For centuries, as long as they were born into the right families, they never had to worry about food or drink. Even the clever ones were raised into fools," Aramis chuckled. "And besides, they're our enemies. The dumber they are, the better for us, right?"
...
As half a day passed without any response from outside, Count Rielde's expression finally changed. He could no longer maintain his facade of confidence. Staring at William's amused smile, he stammered, "W-what did you do?"
"You really think you can threaten me with just a few men? That as long as you have enough of them, you can control me?" William stood up, and this simple action was enough to make Count Rielde lean back in his chair. Several standing nobles instinctively took two steps back.
"You still haven't grasped the situation. You come to me, trying to pull rank and play the noble—" William adjusted the hem of his coat and continued leisurely, "Yes, I am a scoundrel. So everything I do is for profit. Now, I'm going to pay a visit to Arcadio. Whichever side offers me the better deal, that's the side I'll support. Think it over carefully."
As he reached the door, William paused and added, "One more thing: to stop you idiots from doing anything rash, let me warn you. The slums are a powder keg right now. If someone lights a spark, the noble district will be overrun by an enraged mob. If you're lucky, you might get to die quickly."
"And another thing—recently, the slums have been less secure. I don't have enough men to maintain order, so the noble district might suffer from insufficient protection. If you try anything stupid, don't blame me if your heads end up missing one night."
Bang!
William slammed the door shut behind him. Inside the room, the nobles all widened their eyes in shock, as if they still hadn't processed the threats and warnings William had just delivered.
"H-he...," one noble stammered, pointing at the door. "He actually dared to speak to us like that! How could he say such things?!"
"That bastard Arcadio—what kind of person has he brought into our midst?!"
Count Rielde said nothing. After a moment, he opened the door and walked out. The other nobles quickly followed, curious to see what he intended to do.
Count Rielde led them to the room where he had stationed the guards. He pushed the door open, and the scene inside was like a slaughterhouse.
The floor was strewn with corpses, their blood soaking the carpet a deep red. Severed limbs were scattered everywhere—some hung on the walls, others lay draped across chairs.
The nobles who had followed him froze in horror. A few immediately vomited on the spot, while the rest turned pale as ghosts. Count Rielde himself was utterly drained of color, his face ashen.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
The story isn't over...
🤔 Want to know what happens next to the characters?
🤫 Eager to explore the untold secrets of this world?
✍ Ready to read more of my wildest stories?
✨patreon.com/GoldenLong