Late at night, in the Lord's bedroom, Evelyn was recording the laws and decrees dictated by Arthur.
This woman had become increasingly silent; this young man's insights already far surpassed those of a small lord, even exceeding the understanding of great lords, guardians, and even kings.
As she wrote, she looked at the young man before her with her blue eyes, occasionally offering her insights; this young man was very autocratic, but he would ask for her understanding and was willing to listen to her suggestions.
She grew increasingly curious as to why this young noble named Arthur, the youngest son of his family, knew so much.
"Lord Arthur!" Her thoughts were interrupted as two robust figures emerged from the darkness outside the door, kneeling on one knee, their clothes rustling softly.
Arthur's gaze shifted from Evelyn's delicate yet ugly face; he somewhat admired her skill in disguise.
He looked at Lucien and Hakon.
Arthur ordered the two, "Tonight, you two are to select twenty of the most reliable old soldiers—remember, those with tight lips—disguise them as roving bandits and brigands. Remove anything on them that could identify them. Cover their faces and speak little. I do not want to hear any negative news spread."
Evelyn looked up, observing this young lord who, with clear logic, issued commands to attack his own people, employing incredibly seasoned methods to achieve his goals.
"Burn a few empty, uninhabited thatched huts, steal their chickens, ducks, and livestock, smash their doors and windows, and strike their door panels with your swords so they hear the sound."
"Remember, do not kill or severely injure any villager. Your goal is to spread fear. They are very useful to me; do not harm them."
"It must end before dawn. Create enough chaos and fear, then take the spoils and quickly disappear into the mountains, leaving not a single trace."
"Remember! All actions are to make them feel unsafe! To feel fear!"
"Yes, Lord Arthur!" Lucien and Hakon exchanged glances, with no questions in their eyes. They would resolutely carry out Lord Arthur's orders; they had never seen Lord Arthur make a mistake.
The night in Mountain Pass Village was so quiet one could hear dew drops hitting the ground, occasionally punctuated by a few dog barks and frog croaks.
Old Hans, a farmer in the village, had just tucked his sleeping youngest son into bed, a smile on his face. Ever since Lord Arthur had ruled this land, he had not conscripted anything from them and had even returned their taxes for the year, making their lives, though hard, far better than during the Terry Family's time.
A series of continuous barks came from the village entrance, quick and fearful, followed by screams and whines, then silence, clearly indicating the dogs had been killed.
Old Hans's heart tightened; he had a bad premonition. Before he could even get up, countless sounds erupted from the village, a human clamor that made his heart pound fiercely.
There were shouts and curses everywhere, and the sound of violent banging on wooden doors. Such noise only occurred during the Terry Family's forced conscriptions.
Old Hans rushed to the door and peered out through a crack in the wood: fire! Everywhere was ablaze with fire! The entire village was as bright as day!
He heard screams from the village carpenter's house, and the cries and pleas of the carpenter's wife and children, yet he saw no one in the village rush out to help.
But he dared not go out to help, for he saw the firelight cast tall figures onto the walls, figures holding weapons and torches, using their torches to ignite everything flammable.
The sounds of banging doors, curses, livestock wailing, and women crying and pleading constantly filled his ears, so tragic and miserable, completely shattering the usual tranquility of this small village.
He knew that everyone in the village, like himself, had been awakened from the very beginning, but people only hoped the bandits wouldn't find their homes, just as during the Terry Family's conscriptions.
At this moment, he deeply resented the villagers' weakness, even though he himself was part of that weakness.
"Please, merciful Holy Mother." Old Hans closed his eyes, his voice trembling uncontrollably, praying continuously to the Seven Gods, wishing for their protection. But as the footsteps outside grew closer, he began to pray to the Old Gods as well.
The merciful Lord had clearly arrived; life was supposed to get better day by day.
Without divine protection, he saw several bandits laughing as they walked towards his house. Old Hans was terrified; he quickly ran back to hug his awakened wife and children, desperately covering their mouths with his hands, signaling them not to make a sound, fearing they would cry out and attract the bandits.
He could feel his teeth chattering uncontrollably, making soft clattering sounds, his arms tightly embracing his family, comforting his equally frightened and trembling family.
Finally, he heard his own door being kicked open. Old Hans took one last look at his family, then trembled as he walked out and knelt before the bandits:
"Please, I beg you, do not harm us. You can take everything, just please do not harm my family."
But the bandits ignored him. They roughly stuffed several terrified chickens into sacks, then stormed into his sheepfold and led away his only goat.
Then, with a punch, they knocked him down as he stood blocking the doorway, rushed in, and ransacked the house. His wife and children continuously wailed and screamed, and amidst their cries, the bandits took everything they owned.
A bandit lifted Old Hans from the ground:
"Get all your valuables ready! Next time we come, don't make us go through so much trouble!"
"Remember! Have your things ready! Wait for us to come again next time!"
"Next time! If what we want isn't ready!! We'll take your lives!!!"
Old Hans nodded tearfully at the bandits.
A robbed villager tried to threaten them: "Our Lord is Arthur the Black Lion! He will bury all of you alive!!"
His words not only failed to intimidate the bandits but instead earned him a punch that sent him to the ground, followed by several violent kicks.
"By the time the Black Lion comes! We'll be long gone! He can't be by your side at all times!!!"
"When that time comes, I'll hang you!! Take your wife to entertain us!! Throw all your children into the well!!!"
No one dared to resist. No one in the entire village dared to come out to help. Every house extinguished its candles, hiding and trembling, hoping the bandits wouldn't choose their home, but someone else's, until the bandits finished ransacking house by house.
Then, just as suddenly as they had arrived, the bandits, carrying the stolen chickens, ducks, and grain, swiftly retreated into the dark mountain forests outside the village, disappearing without a trace.
Even though the bandits had long departed, fear and despair remained, like a thick dark cloud, shrouding the hearts of everyone in Mountain Pass Village.
The villagers huddled behind their broken doors, embracing their families, trembling.
No one dared to open their doors, no one dared to make a sound. The entire village was silent, letting the flames burn, until the dawn in the sky dispelled the last trace of night, and it was fully day before they cautiously dared to peek out.
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