#128. A True Northerner (1)
“What? What nonsense is that all of a sudden!”
“If it’s not nonsense, then why are you siding with some noble you’ve never even seen? If you want to take someone’s side, you should stand with the lord who has shed sweat for this land! He was born and raised here in the North — his ancestors, from long ago until now, have always cared for the North. He is the true Northerner!”
“What…!”
“Come now, don’t you all agree? The only traitor here is that woman!”
The ordinary townsfolk could not withstand the agitators, who lied as easily as they breathed.
And there wasn’t just one agitator — countless of them were hidden among the doubtful crowd.
Spreading words with a clear intent, they quickly twisted the outcome in their favor.
When alone, people may think for themselves. But in a crowd, it’s hard to hold onto your own opinion. Those without strong conviction were the first to be swept up.
“We can’t just sit and do nothing! Lady Volkov spread Kartoff and caused this mess — she must compensate us for our suffering!”
“That’s right! If we stay silent, nothing will change. Let’s march to Bellicordo Castle, throw things at its walls, and cause an uproar. That way she’ll see how desperate we really are!”
The crowd was growing more and more agitated.
“Wait, hold on! Are you really all planning to do that?”
Some still clung to reason and tried to stop them. But in the tightly packed crowd, one or two dissenting voices were quickly drowned out.
“Good, good.”
Watching the change from a distance, Duke Titova smiled with satisfaction.
“Now it’s time for me to make my entrance.”
With hands behind his back, he strolled leisurely toward the stage.
Titova’s knights forced a path through the crowd as he passed.
“Ah! Don’t push!”
“Wait—someone’s being trampled!”
Peasants were shoved and injured, but the knights didn’t care. Titova himself didn’t spare them a glance as he stepped onto the stage.
“Ahem!”
He cleared his throat and looked over the sea of people below.
The stage had been built extra high, letting him see far — even individual expressions in the crowd.
Things are going well.
At last, Titova felt his plan nearing success.
But not yet. It’s not over until I drag that woman down.
Suppressing his excitement, he began to speak.
“Surely you all know who I am — your lord, Duke Titova.”
His voice carried to the farthest edge of the plaza, amplified by a relic imbued with magic.
The Titova family, being old and storied, had inherited many relics. Preparing for this day, he had put them to good use.
In fact, just recently, he had even discovered a hidden passage, where he found new relics he hadn’t known existed.
How fortunate those relics turned out to be useful. Even my ancestors must be blessing this moment, awaiting the new history I will carve.
Interpreting everything to suit himself, he continued.
“The reason I gathered you here, as you’ve guessed, is Kartoff!”
At his signal, his attendant displayed a basket of rotten, crumbling Kartoff.
“You’ve all seen it. Across many lands, Kartoff — no, this accursed crop — has been rotting away under a curse! Yet House Volkov, who spread this plant so irresponsibly, never once warned you this might happen!”
Shamelessly, he pushed all the blame for his own schemes onto Sasha.
“This year, the North faces famine. And yet, even as this plague spreads everywhere, House Volkov, who should bear responsibility for the North, has done nothing! Or perhaps… they have deliberately refused to act!”
He cast a dark suspicion into the crowd.
“Why else is it that so many territories suffer, yet Volkov’s own domain remains untouched? Is it because they do not care about our suffering? Or worse — did they intend for this to happen? How can we not suspect foul intent?”
The crowd murmured uneasily.
Could the rumors be true? Could the Grand Duchess have…?
Sensing their doubt, Titova pressed on.
“How can we trust House Volkov, when its leader allows Northerners to suffer for her own gain?”
And then he raised his voice to its peak.
“But do not fear! I will save the North in place of that useless woman!”
The resentment toward Sasha now turned into support for him.
“Waaaaah!”
Cheers shook the plaza.
Finally! It worked!
Titova trembled with a thrill of triumph—
Until a sharp voice cut through the noise.
“That’s not what I’ve heard.”
The cheers faltered.
“I heard you were the one who caused all of this, Duke Titova.”
His eyebrows twitched.
“Who dares spout such lies?!”
Scanning the crowd, his eyes landed on a woman who stood boldly, not even trying to hide.
That woman…
“Marchioness Yelena Sobakin?”
One of Sasha’s closest aides. If she was here, then…
A chill of dread pierced him.
“Guards! What are you doing? Arrest her at once!”
But no one obeyed.
He turned quickly — his men were already pinned down by armored knights in black: the Black Wolf Knights of House Volkov.
“Now do you see the situation?”
Yelena smirked wickedly and gestured.
“Duke Titova, traitor. Surrender quietly.”
The Black Wolf Knights marched up the stage in perfect formation and seized him instantly.
“Ugh!”
He struggled, but his pampered body could not shake off trained knights.
“Unhand me! Do you know who I am?!”
“You? I just said it, didn’t I? A traitor.”
Yelena walked up onto the stage, her breath sharp with fury, and sneered at him.
“Marchioness Sobakin. You’ve grown bold, clinging to the Grand Duchess. Aren’t you afraid of the consequences of treating me this way?”
“You talk too much. Careful with that mouth. I haven’t drawn my blade in a while, so I’m itching for practice.”
She spun the sword at her hip with a deadly grin. Titova’s face twisted, but he fell silent.
Yelena smirked and looked out over the crowd.
“Well, this worked out nicely. You even gathered everyone for me. No need to waste time calling them here myself.”
She raised her voice, enhanced by the magic relic still on the stage.
“Listen well, all of you!”
“This worm, Duke Titova, has been plotting rebellion!”
The townsfolk, already uneasy, gasped at her declaration.
“Rebellion?!”
“That’s… a crime that can wipe out an entire family line!”
“And the lord of this land is guilty of that?”
“But wait — didn’t he just say it was Lady Volkov’s fault about Kartoff…?”
Their confusion was cut off by Yelena’s next words.
“This man, driven by greed for power, schemed to betray the rightful head of house, Lady Alexandra Volkov!”
She explained clearly, so all could understand.
“As part of his plan, he spread the Kartoff blight. Every rotten crop, every fear of famine this winter — all of it is his doing!”
Shock rippled through the crowd.
Their lord had not only neglected them, but tried to starve them for his own ambition?
And all for rebellion?
Whispers spread quickly, as people explained it to their neighbors.
The mood in the plaza grew grim.
On his knees, Titova also sensed the shift.
“No! Lies! She’s slandering me with nonsense!”
“Trying to deny it? That’s why I brought witnesses. Come up!”
At her signal, familiar figures climbed onto the stage.
“I was ordered by Duke Titova to research a curse that would destroy Kartoff. I knew it was wrong, but he threatened my family, so I obeyed. Forgive me!”
It was the botanist and the magician.
“He told me to stockpile wheat. He already knew Kartoff would fail! He planned to sell wheat slowly at high prices while people starved. And when things went wrong, he seized my stock by force!”
The merchant he had cast aside.
“I carried sacks for him under orders. It was supposed to be simple work. But he never paid me a coin!”
Even the mercenary he had hired and discarded.
One by one, those he had used and betrayed exposed his crimes before all.
“No! No, it’s not true! You wretches!”
