Chapter 424: Taking Territory

CH424 Taking Territory

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Three days after the Barnsil massacre, scouts from the hastily formed local militia reported the sighting of a regiment—at least a thousand men strong—marching toward the barony.

The initial reaction was fear and unease. However, upon seeing the crest flown by the armed force, Lady Helton released a breath she had not realised she was holding.

They were the men of one of her late husband’s allies—Count Morgan Welfer.

Count Morgan Welfer served under the same liege house as Baron Helton, the Luxen Duchy. In fact, he was one of the few true nobles—recognised by the Lumeria Empire itself—within the Duchy’s area of influence who had openly supported Baron Helton’s claim.

Upon confirming that the approaching force belonged to Count Welfer, Lady Helton immediately ordered what remained of the household staff into motion to prepare a proper reception.

When the regiment reached the barony, it split into three smaller detachments. One of these—a full company—followed the regiment commander directly to Upper Barnsil Fortress.

Lady Helton, accompanied by Baron Helton’s three concubines and her two sons, formally received the regiment commander and his adjutant in the fortress’s main hall. Meanwhile, the accompanying company rested outside the fortress walls, observing proper etiquette.

Not that it truly mattered.

The fortress was effectively defenceless before the two men—both Gold-ranked—and could have been taken at their leisure had they wished.

"Lady Helton," the regiment commander spoke, "I have arrived under the orders of my lord, Count Welfer, to secure this fortress until the proceedings regarding the barony’s lordship are concluded at the Duchy Court. I trust you do not object."

As expected, Lady Helton sighed inwardly.

"Not at all, Commander..." she hesitated slightly, attempting to learn his name.

"Commander will suffice, my lady," he replied.

Though his words were polite, the tone beneath them was not.

Even the three younger women—despite their commoner origins—picked up on the subtle disrespect.

Understanding her position, Lady Helton swallowed her displeasure.

Instead, she asked carefully, "What are your next intentions? Will you pursue the infernals who killed my husband and massacred his men?"

"Indeed," the commander replied calmly. "That is one of my regiment’s mandates."

At that moment, a reddish glow reflected through the window.

A heartbeat later, screams followed.

Fear seized Lady Helton’s heart as she rushed to the window.

What she saw made her blood run cold.

The townsfolk of Lower Barnsil were being slaughtered by the regiment’s soldiers, and their houses being razed.

"What are you doing?!" she cried, turning back toward the commander.

"Cleansing these lands of heretical infestation," the regiment commander replied coldly.

"Those are residents of our barony. They are not heretics!" one of the Baron’s concubines shouted.

She was a local. Her family still lived in Lower Barnsil.

"Do you expect anyone to believe that fewer than a platoon of men invaded and slaughtered the Barony’s forces—including five Gold ranks—without the entire town being aware?" the regiment commander replied coldly.

"Surely, you have all been bewitched by the infernals and are colluding with them."

His eyes hardened.

"In that case, your blood will be shed to cleanse these lands of filth and restore the light of Lord Juror."

"Hahaha!" Lady Helton laughed hysterically. "What cleansing? Your lord simply wants to usurp our lands now that my husband is dead."

She pointed toward the window, where smoke and screams still rose.

"You are killing the people so that no one will remain to challenge your lord’s claim in the future."

Her laughter faded, replaced by icy clarity.

"So, what now?" she asked. "Will you claim the infernals wiped out the entire town? Or will you brand us heretics and kill us as well?"

Fear immediately seized the other three women.

"That depends on your choice, Lady Helton." The regiment commander smiled faintly. "No—Lady Lara."

The smile widened.

"If you agree to marry my lord, Count Morgan Welfer, and present the barony to him as your dowry, he is prepared to spare your lives."

He paused, then added casually, "Of course, the peasants below must still die. We must give the clergy an answer, after all."

"And if I refuse?" Lady Helton asked quietly.

"Then it is a great tragedy," the regiment commander said with a predatory grin, "that the infernals massacred the entire town—slaying even Baron Helton’s family. As a loyal friend, my lord would have no choice but to assume stewardship of his fallen ally’s lands, so that his legacy of defending the realm may live on."

Lady Helton laughed softly, hollow and broken.

"I wonder who is truly evil," she said, "the so-called infernals... or the so-called nobles."

She walked to her sons and gently rubbed their heads.

"Very well," she said at last. "I agree."

"Excellent." The regiment commander smiled in satisfaction. "A wise decision. I will send word to my liege immediately."

He turned to leave, then chuckled lightly.

"Do not look so gloomy. You have saved many lives today."

With that, he exited the castle’s main hall, his adjutant following close behind.

As they stepped outside, the adjutant glanced back at the fortress—at how exposed it truly was.

"Are we really leaving them be?" he asked quietly. "We could seize the castle right now."

"We have our orders," the regiment commander replied.

"I just don’t understand," the adjutant said.

"Our duty is not to understand our liege’s plans," the regiment commander replied sternly. "It is simply to carry them out."

The adjutant quickly nodded.

After a moment, however, the commander’s expression eased, and he smiled faintly.

"It isn’t that difficult to understand if you look at it from a noble’s perspective.

"Our lord’s lands are separated from these territories by two fiefdoms. He cannot simply swallow this barony under the excuse of protecting a friend’s legacy. The neighbouring lords would never allow it, and House Luxen would be forced to intervene."

He continued calmly,

"On the other hand, if Lady Helton marries our lord, the Count can legitimately extend his influence here—in the name of supporting his wife and safeguarding his late friend’s children. In a few years, even if the duchy rules that the territory must remain under House Helton, it will belong to our lord in everything but name."

"I see..." the adjutant murmured, nodding in understanding.

"But then," he hesitated, "why does our lord want this land so badly? It’s only a barony. And if it truly holds value, why wouldn’t the duchy intervene immediately?"

The regiment commander shrugged.

"That is beyond our pay grade. Matters of nobles, I suppose."

Realising his superior did not know any more than he did, the adjutant dropped the subject and asked another question.

"Are we going to pursue the infernals?"

"Why would we?" the commander replied flatly. "They slaughtered more than five hundred men with barely twenty of their own. Do you truly believe chasing them is worth the risk?"

"But Lord Juror—"

"Do you think Lord Juror or the clergy truly care about this insignificant stretch of land?" the commander interrupted. "Of course not. We are already preserving everyone’s dignity by ’purging’ the town."

He sneered faintly.

"If the Temple is truly interested in the invaders, they will hunt them down themselves. It is not our role yet."

"As far as we are concerned," he continued, "the invaders have already left the Luxen Duchy. What happens next is the concern of the Temple and whatever lord rules the lands they enter."

Then he stopped walking and turned to his adjutant, his voice turning solemn.

"Never forget this. In the world of aristocrats and clergy, benefit is the only thing that matters. No one moves unless there is something to gain."

"Including the Temple?" the adjutant asked quietly.

"Especially the Temple and its clergy," the commander replied gravely.

The adjutant followed behind his superior, a heavy sense of disillusionment settling over him as the world he thought he understood quietly crumbled.

***