A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles

Viscount Karyan blinked, convinced for a moment that he had misread the sentence.

Occupied?

Wasn’t that a word used in times of war?

However, no matter how many times he reread it, the letters did not change.

— At first, everything was going well. The duke could do nothing in the face of the natural disaster, and the soldiers showed no dissatisfaction toward me, who treated them with hospitality.

“Hmm.”

Seeing the word setup, Viscount Karyan frowned.

In truth, it wasn’t a lie, but as long as it wasn’t discovered, what did it matter?

Had he left evidence because of acting clumsily?

— I must clarify this in advance there was no proof. Only suspicions. But the duke did not lose his reason out of feeling deceived. Setup or not, he needed to maintain his troops’ morale, so he decided to use me as a sacrifice.

“…”

— Most likely, even if I had not been at fault, the duke would have spread the rumor that I was. He wanted his troops to continue sowing fear in the west. For him, the soldiers losing momentum was the worst possible scenario.

Marquis Bernhardt’s original plan was to make the west feel powerless and thus weaken the advance of the five-thousand-strong army.

However, that young and inexperienced duke deciphered the marquis’s plan in less than a month and launched a counterattack.

The problem was that the intensity of that counterattack far exceeded any reasonable limit.

— When the duke incited the soldiers, their anger reached a critical point. They were one step away from exploding and committing a great massacre at any moment. I had no choice but to practically hand over the castle and once again attend to them with all my strength.

“…”

— With a justification in hand, the army of five thousand no longer had any qualms about exercising its power. My inhabitants and my knights trembled before them, and now my own knights cannot even control a single soldier. Their momentum is far greater than at the beginning.

Viscount Karyan felt the skin on his arm prickle.

If Lucian had lost his reason based solely on suspicion and had pressured Oleg, he would have despised him as a ridiculous brat.

But according to that letter, the duke had acted coldly, choosing Oleg as a sacrifice.

That meant he was not the type to regret his actions afterward, but the type who planned large moves in advance.

‘Damn it, what bad luck.’

Realizing that Lucian was exactly the kind of enemy he most wanted to avoid, Karyan pressed his lips together.

An impulsive man would have been preferable.

If, after unleashing chaos, he regained his senses, it would always be possible to corner him politically for it.

But a man willing to accept losses in a calculated manner was another story.

It meant that from the moment of the attack, he had already judged that the benefits would outweigh any political consequences.

‘When people like this start moving, they’re not only impossible to stop—they also crush the enemy mercilessly to leave no aftereffects.’

It was not the same to face someone who swung a sword blinded by rage as to face someone who, after cleanly cutting a throat, walked away without looking back.

Karyan wished with all his might that Lucian would be satisfied with occupying Oleg’s castle and then withdraw.

But the contents of the letter were exactly the opposite.

— Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, they did not completely raze my castle. Although they committed all kinds of abuses, they decided to accept the marquis’s invitation and head north. The problem is that they are now looking for more sacrifices.

Upon reading more sacrifices, Karyan shut his eyes tightly.

For an instant, he felt the urge to tear the letter to shreds and pretend he had never read it, simply drinking his tea.

He could imagine all too clearly what kind of sentence would come next.

But doing so would only bring greater trouble later.

Forcing himself to open his eyes, he continued reading.

— The duke believes that, because of the time he was detained, other lords of the west will mock him. Although he used my territory as an example, he will not be satisfied with me alone. He will undoubtedly set his sights on others. I do not know who the next sacrifice will be. It could be you.

“That bastard…!”

— In case there are misunderstandings, I clarify that this is not a curse, but a warning. It would be regrettable for a similar misfortune to befall a family with whom I have shared so many years of relations. For that reason, I leave here a small piece of advice.

When he read the word advice, Karyan’s eyes suddenly lit up.

Would they tell him how to avoid disaster when an army of five thousand men was about to shake his territory?

As if he had never been furious, he carefully examined the next line.

— Do not try to stop the duke. He already knows the marquis’s intentions and ours, although he does not know for certain who is collaborating. If you try to delay him even a little, he will immediately turn you into the next sacrifice.

“…”

— The marquis may reprimand you later, but receiving a reprimand is infinitely better than seeing your territory reduced to ashes. I, who have suffered it firsthand, now see it clearly. My friend, I sincerely hope you do not suffer the same misfortune as I have.

After reading the final line, Viscount Karyan frowned.

The marquis’s request was clear detain Lucian as long as possible.

But if he let him leave without even trying, he could lose the marquis’s trust.

At the same time, allowing his territory to be ravaged seemed even worse.

What could be more important to a territorial noble than his own domain and his family?

‘No matter how powerful a backing may be, it is still just backing. It is a means to protect my territory, not a lord I must serve even at the cost of my house’s annihilation.’

Little by little, Karyan’s heart leaned toward the advice in the letter.

However, following it immediately was not a good idea either.

If the other lords, knowing nothing, fell before Lucian while he alone emerged unscathed, he would lose not only the marquis’s trust but also earn the resentment of neighboring nobles.

He needed a way to spread the responsibility and avoid being isolated.

After thinking for a moment, Karyan arrived at a solution and shouted.

“Bring pen and paper! I must send letters to the other lords!”

***

“There’s no need to go looking one by one for all the lords who are at the midway point to give them advice. It’s enough to tell just one person; they’ll take care of passing it on to the rest.”

Lucian murmured those words as he brought a raspberry to his mouth, seated beside Hugo, who lay on the infirmary bed.

Unlike what was usual in the west, where obtaining fruit was difficult, those raspberries were bursting with juice.

It was evident that Viscount Oleg had purchased them at a considerable price through merchants.

“Viscount Oleg faithfully carried out the marquis’s orders, and now he’s paying the consequences with all kinds of hardships. In other words, no matter what happens, Marquis Bernhardt cannot afford to reprimand him.”

“In other words, if, just as the letter says, they let the king go without further action…”

“When other territories are reduced to a devastated wasteland, he’ll be singled out as the traitor who surrendered to the enemy and let him go without suffering any damage. And if he doesn’t want to bear that label, he’ll have no choice but to share the advice.”

“So it’s about increasing the number of accomplices to spread the responsibility.”

“Exactly.”

When one of the conspirators goes off on their own, it’s considered an individual action.

But when all the conspirators act in unison, it stops being a deviation and becomes a consensual decision.

Moreover, that consensus comes with a perfect justification the survival of the family.

No matter how irritating it might be, Marquis Bernhardt would not be able to intervene easily.

The moment he ignored that consensus, a rift would open among those who had until now been solid allies.

The other lords knew this as well, so they would actively try to drag in more accomplices.

“It’s the method people from the underworld often used when they screwed up. In the end, it doesn’t matter whether they’re alley ruffians or noble heads of families; they all think the same way.”

“When there’s a superior who can reprimand you, your options shrink. If the one who makes the mistake is a boss who doesn’t have to answer to anyone, then the story changes.”

At Hugo’s mocking tone, Lucian smiled faintly and tossed him a raspberry.

Hugo caught it with his mouth like a chick and began chewing noisily.

When Hugo fell silent, busy with the fruit, it was Felicia who spoke.

“But not all families will immediately open the way just because of that letter. Some will try to detain us for at least a few days, even if only to save face.”

“Even after having explained to them in full detail how miserable they’ll end up?”

“Among the families the marquis ordered to stop us, there are several bound by marriage to the house of Marquis Roglan. Being closer than the others, even if they want to withdraw, it won’t be easy for them.”

Lucian nodded at Felicia’s concern.

Families bound by marriage to a great house always received far more benefits than the rest.

After all, once they became family, it was natural that they would be favored.

But at the same time, in situations like this, those same families were unable to withdraw.

Precisely because they had received so much, they were now required to fulfill their part.

‘If this were a crisis grave enough to destroy the family entirely, they could wash their hands of it and pretend they know nothing. But this visit of mine is nothing more than an extension of the political tug-of-war. When I leave, they’ll be the ones who have to pay the price.’

On the contrary, they would also have a certain confidence that, being so close to the marquis’s house, Lucian would not be able to act with total impunity.

The inability to withdraw and that poorly founded confidence combined, making it very likely that what Felicia feared would occur.

“Well then, there’s no alternative.”

At hearing Lucian speak in an almost resigned tone, the vassals’ eyes widened.

Lucian looked at them and smiled maliciously.

“Even if they don’t want to withdraw, all that’s left is to create an atmosphere that forces them to.”

***

After sending the letters to the other lords, Viscount Karyan hurried to prepare an appropriate reception.

Even if Lucian stayed only a short time, if the treatment was lacking they could look for any pretext.

Meanwhile, he did not forget to constantly send scouts to check on the state of the bridge repairs.

And finally, just recently, the report he had been waiting for arrived the collapsed bridge had been completely repaired, and the army had crossed the river.

As soon as he received the news, Viscount Karyan personally went out to receive Lucian.

“When is the duke’s army supposed to arrive?”

“Taking into account the time of the last report and their speed of advance, it won’t be more than two hours.”

As he listened to his subordinate’s report, Karyan toyed with a handkerchief.

It was soaked with the cold sweat seeping from his palms.

“I’ll say it once more under no circumstances provoke the duke. Focus solely on attending to him satisfactorily, and do not try to prevent him from leaving the territory whenever he wishes. Understood?”

“We’ll keep it firmly in mind.”

The subordinates nodded with tense expressions at the viscount’s insistent warning.

They too knew, in broad strokes, the contents of the letter sent from Viscount Oleg’s house.

They could not allow a similar tragedy to be repeated there.

“Viscount! The duke’s army is approaching!”

The voice rang out in the air, tense like a string about to snap.

It was a scout who was watching Lucian’s approach from a nearby hill.

Karyan shouted to the scout, drenched in sweat.

“How far have they come? Is the number still the same? And the condition of the soldiers?”

“At this pace, they’ll arrive in a few dozen minutes. The number matches what they told us. But the atmosphere is strange!”

“Strange? What do you mean by that?”

The scout replied in a voice filled with fear.

“The soldiers’ armor and weapons are covered in blood! It looks as if they’ve fought a battle!”

“…!?”