Barrett's expression changed slightly.
"What list? Valery, what is the meaning of your words?!"
"The meaning is..."
Irene, who had been prostrated by the bedside all this time, suddenly stood up. A smile that was a mixture of tear stains and madness appeared on her face.
"You old bastards, you dirtied Her Majesty's quilt, and yet you dare to bark in Her Majesty's Bedchamber!
"Now, it is time to pay the compensation fee!"
Boom—!
The doors of the side hall crashed shut.
The Palace guards, who had originally appeared 'chaotic and panicked', instantly seemed to transform into a different group of people.
Over two hundred soldiers filed out from behind the hanging curtains, from behind the screens, and even from hidden compartments in the ceiling.
The pitch-black muzzles shimmered with a ghostly glint of death under the firelight, pointing uniformly at this group of stunned nobles.
Delilah's figure flashed, appearing behind Barrett as if she had teleported. The icy edge of her sword was already pressed against his thick, fatty nape.
"Kneel."
There was no warmth whatsoever in Delilah's voice.
"You... you actually feigned your injury?!"
Feeling the cold blade against his neck, Barrett went limp all over, and an unpleasant smell wafted from his crotch.
He had never seen those things called 'black muskets' with his own eyes, but now, with these black tubes pointed at his head, an inexplicable terror rose in his heart.
"The injury is real."
Supported by Irene, Sophia slowly sat up.
Although her left arm was in severe pain and her face was pale, the aura she radiated at that moment remained undiminished.
She looked down at the so-called Decree of Regency, her tone as cold as ice:
"But your thirst for power disgusts this King even more than those few machetes."
"Your Majesty, spare my life! We were only bewitched by Barrett!"
"Yes, Your Majesty! We remain loyal and devoted to the Kingdom of Mason!"
The old nobles clearly hadn't realized the situation would turn out like this. They wailed to the heavens and cried to the earth; some attempted to flee, only to have their ribs directly smashed by the Musketeers using their rifle butts.
Before His Majesty issued a decree, they could not privately kill anyone.
Sophia watched this scene expressionlessly.
In the eyes of these old nobles, the cold moonlight spilling onto the Queen's fair and unwavering face made her look simply like a deity conducting the final judgment.
However, Sophia was calculating internally.
These old things are as fat as pigs; they must have scraped quite a bit of oil and water before.
There must be plenty of gold coins and food hidden in their mansions. After confiscating it, the national treasury should become a bit more substantial.
"Victor."
Sophia withdrew her gaze, her voice plain and devoid of a single trace of killing intent.
"These people intended to rebel, and the evidence is irrefutable.
"According to the Kingdom's laws, send them to see my Royal Father and older brother."
Victor accepted the order solemnly.
"As you command, Your Majesty."
Not a single person present dared to voice the doubt that 'the Old King only seemed to be missing and wasn't necessarily dead'.
"Their family properties shall be entirely confiscated. Their family members will be demoted to hard labor, branded, and sent to Kree Village to undergo 'Reclamation Reformation'."
"Your Majesty! You cannot do this!
"I am a founding noble!
"Tyrant!
"You are a Tyrant! You cold-blooded Tyrant!"
Earl Barrett roared in despair.
Irene was so angry she chased after him directly and kicked him.
Sophia paid no heed.
She merely lay back down with some exhaustion, not even interested in casting a glance at those nobles being dragged out.
That indifference toward the life and death of powerful officials made Valery and Delilah, who stood to the side, tremble with fear in their hearts.
Looking at the few people remaining in the room, Sophia suddenly felt she should say something.
"Only by killing these vampires can the blood of the Kingdom of Mason flow."
After speaking, Sophia closed her eyes, helplessly enduring the pain transmitting from her left arm.
That night, the old noble faction of the Royal City of Mason was pulled out by the roots.
Fresh blood washed the steps of the side hall.
But the next morning, when the commoners saw that beside the heads of those rogue bandits on the City wall, several more faces of nobles who usually lorded over them had appeared, an unprecedented shock swept through the entire Royal City.
They were no longer just afraid.
Beneath the color of fear, a layer of awe named 'Justice' had been added.
"Did His Majesty kill those scourges?"
"I heard those people wanted to rebel while His Majesty was injured. To protect us, His Majesty suppressed the rebellion while forcefully enduring a sick body."
"A Tyrant... perhaps only a Tyrant like this can protect grass-roots people like us."
"If she weren't a Tyrant, she wouldn't be able to decisively kill these scourges."
"But exactly how many people is the Tyrant going to kill? Will it be our turn, the ordinary people, next time..."
Meanwhile, inside the Bedchamber, Sophia was staring at the small, specially made pork liver bread sandwich that Willow had brought—said to replenish blood—with her brows locked tight.
"Is this food for humans?"
*
The vermilion gates of Earl Barrett's mansion were rudely smashed open.
The butlers and servants, whose eyes used to look higher than the top of their heads, were now kneeling tremblingly in the courtyard, not daring to breathe loudly.
"Move it! His Majesty said not even a rusty piece of iron is to be left behind!"
Minister Victor personally supervised the operation. His old face was written with a sense of elation he had never experienced before.
That group of nobles had always looked down on him, considering him just a butler without any real power, noting that he was only given the position of Minister after Her Majesty the Queen succeeded the throne.
Although the soldiers wore simple cloth armor, their actions were exceptionally swift and orderly.
They shuttled through those extremely luxurious rooms, their movements crisp and neat.
"My Lord! A hidden compartment discovered!"
Following a soldier's shout, a bookshelf in Barrett's bedroom was forcibly pushed open, revealing a private vault buried deep underground behind it.
In that instant, even Victor, who had seen much of the world, couldn't help but suck in a breath of cold air.
That was the true embodiment of 'wine and meat rotting behind vermilion gates'.
Many coins were neatly stacked in large wooden crates. Due to long-term lack of ventilation, the vault was filled with a strange aroma that mixed the smell of mold with the coldness of metal.
As soldiers of a barren subsidiary small country, they had never seen so much money in their lives.
The soldiers silently lifted these crates out. Under the sunlight, those glittering golden rays dazzled people's eyes until they hurt.
And at the mansion of Marquis Morton, the confiscation process was even more 'realistic'.
Marquis Morton was a hoarder. In his underground granary, piles of aged wheat and oats formed mountains; because they had been squeezed together for too long, the bottom layer had already slightly fermented.
Holding shovels, the soldiers loaded this grain—which hadn't flowed into the market even during the Kingdom of Mason's most difficult times—basket by basket onto the carriages.
In addition to this, there were large bundles of uncut silk and linen, and even several chests of expensive spices and dried fruits used for private trade with nobles of neighboring countries.
"These greedy maggots!"
A soldier looked at the grain, which was enough to feed the residents of the Royal City for a year, and cursed in a low voice through gritted teeth:
"While His Majesty was worrying about seeds, they were actually here letting the grain go moldy!"
No wonder His Majesty was so determined to eradicate them; their hearts were simply black!
________________________________________
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