Chapter – 131
When morning came, Decaron was thrown into an uproar.
The merchant who supplied food ingredients had, of all places, visited the rats’ den, and thus the massacre that occurred overnight became known.
“Who would dare do such a thing…!”
Duke Guntram was nothing short of furious.
This wasn’t a simple murder case—this was a massacre in the heart of Decaron. It was only natural for its lord, Duke Guntram, to be enraged.
“Investigate thoroughly and find the culprit! Understood?!”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The knights took the order and immediately rushed to the crime scene to begin the investigation.
Meanwhile, Duke Guntram summoned Carlile, who was about to depart for the front lines after his vacation.
“I’ll be borrowing Evangeline for a while.”
“I refuse.”
“…What?”
“I said no.”
“Do you even know what happened in Decaron?”
“How would I know that?”
“More than twenty innocent citizens were slaughtered.”
“Is that so?”
“I haven’t seen it with my own eyes, but according to the report, every last one of them died without even a chance to resist.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“…?”
Carlile’s indifferent, bored attitude made Duke Guntram’s expression harden more and more.
“Have you… said everything you intend to say?”
“There isn’t much to say, really. Not my business.”
“You little—”
Duke Guntram was about to explode in anger for the first time in a long while, but suddenly he realized something and stopped.
“…Don’t tell me—this was your doing?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Carlile played dumb without blinking.
“Are you saying I look like some murderer to you now?”
“You know full well that’s not what I meant. Does saying it like that make you feel better?”
“Well, being treated like a murderer without reason would put anyone in a bad mood, wouldn’t it?”
“If your feelings were hurt, then I apologize. That wasn’t my intention. It’s just that what you’re saying sounds suspicious, so…”
At that moment—
“Your Grace.”
Kristan burst into the office, speaking urgently.
“It seems this incident is not a simple murder case.”
“What do you mean? How is it not a simple murder?”
“A report states that piles of documents related to Decaron were found at the scene.”
“What?”
“Most of them are encrypted and cannot be deciphered, but from what could be confirmed, they include detailed information on recent Decaron movements, market prices, and major figures. Also, the victims’ identities were all different from each other, with no apparent connection or commonality.”
“…So it was a hideout for spies.”
“That seems to be the case, judging from the circumstances.”
“Understood. You may go.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
As Kristan retreated, he glanced at Carlile.
“May I ask why Young Master Carlile is—”
“Mind your own business and get lost.”
Carlile snapped, annoyance creeping into his voice.
“A mere commoner-born knight dares intrude while the lord of Decaron and his son are speaking?”
“Ugh…”
“Talk to him too much and he really starts thinking we’re friends. He should learn his place—unless he wants a painful reminder of the difference in status.”
Duke Guntram could no longer stand it and intervened.
“Why are you speaking to Kristan like that? He is my adjutant. Even if he was born a commoner, you must not insult him.”
“If he didn’t want to be insulted, he shouldn’t have overstepped. Asking why I’m here is beyond rude.”
“…Haa.”
Duke Guntram sighed deeply, turning to Kristan.
“Please be understanding. It’s not the first time. My apologies.”
“It’s fine, Your Grace.”
“You’re still not gone?”
Kristan, stung by Carlile’s taunt, quickly exited the office.
“Why are you so rude only to Kristan?”
“Who knows.”
Carlile smiled coldly.
“Maybe I just can’t stand him. You know, one of those people you hate for no particular reason.”
But it wasn’t without reason.
In the game Overlord, when one played as Frey von Sigmund, both Duke Guntram and Selena were already dead.
Frey had inherited the family title at a young age because Duke Guntram had passed away and Selena—first in line to succeed—had died on the battlefield.
And the mastermind behind it was Kristan, a spy planted long ago by House Loren.
Right now he was a competent adjutant and an essential asset to Decaron, but in time, he would inflict the deadliest blow that would nearly annihilate the Sigmund family.
So of course Carlile despised him.
“It’s a bad habit.”
“I’ve always been like this. Just let it go.”
“…”
Guntram fell silent, then spoke again.
“So… was it your doing?”
“Are we back to calling me a murderer?”
“Stop dodging and answer. What exactly are you doing?”
“Think of it as pest control. Monster extermination. I just eliminated some rats that were crawling around.”
“How did you know?”
“That’s something I’ll take to my grave. Anyway, I need to go—the transport wagon is leaving.”
Without waiting for permission, Carlile stood up and walked out of the office.
“Why won’t you tell your father anything…? What are you hiding…?”
Guntram watched silently as Carlile headed toward the battlefield, confusion and hurt in his eyes.
Decaron wasn’t the only one thrown into chaos.
News of the gruesome massacre spread almost instantly to the royal family far away.
“…What is this…”
Tremble!
Crown Prince Gordon’s hands shook as he held the report.
He couldn’t believe it.
Not only had a long-secure safehouse been compromised overnight, but the spies inside had been massacred.
If not for the agents who happened to be out at the time, the royal family might have lost their entire Decaron intelligence network.
But that wasn’t the important part.
“Information… leaked.”
A chill ran down the prince’s spine.
This is a provocation. Someone is indirectly declaring that they know the royal family’s secret.
He thought so because of the carriage explosion incident from before.
Back then, he assumed it was the work of barbarians and focused on cleaning up the aftermath.
But now that the Decaron safehouse had been raided, he could no longer believe that incident was their doing.
The fact that only Decaron had been targeted twice proved that someone was provoking the royal family in the north.
And both incidents implied that the culprit already knew the royal family had lost its prophetic power.
This is bad.
Thump, thump!
His heart pounded wildly.
The royal family had no foresight.
All they had was intelligence—and the continent’s belief that the royal family could see the future.
If the truth were to come out…
The royal family would lose its authority, its credibility, and be challenged by every great house except a few loyal ones.
The outcome would be—
Civil war. A civil war.
The prince knew very well that once the secret leaked, the United Kingdom would fracture and descend into internal conflict.
Centuries of order maintained by House Oracle would collapse.
I must stop it. Somehow… I must stop this.
But he gave no orders.
Who is it? Who uncovered the royal family’s secret? Is it Decaron? Loren? Or a third faction…?
He didn’t even know where to begin.
He had no suspects, no clues.
The enemy was meticulous.
They had provoked the royal family twice with perfect surprise.
When, where, or how the next strike would come—he couldn’t even guess.
It felt like being struck by unseen arrows from the darkness.
Damn it. Who are you? How did you find out? What do you want?
The prince agonized alone.
The thought that the centuries-old order maintained by the royal family might collapse in his generation made it hard to breathe.
Meanwhile, the man responsible for giving everyone headaches was leisurely trekking through the vast wilderness, heading toward Bowden Fortress.
Duke Guntram and the crown prince were agonizing themselves half to death because of him, but Carlile felt no guilt whatsoever.
Think all you want—it’ll only give you migraines.
It was irresponsibility at its finest, but Carlile didn’t care at all.
Just as someone who tosses a stone into a lake doesn’t fret about the frogs and crayfish beneath.
It’s pretty cold. If it’s already this chilly, the first snow will fall in a week or two… huh?
Carlile, along with the convoy heading to Bowden Fortress, suddenly stopped.
Far in the distance, Bowden Fortress was ablaze.
The walls had collapsed in several places, and countless bodies were strewn across the ground.
Fortunately, it seemed the battle had ended in victory, as allied soldiers were cleaning up the battlefield.
Looks like they had a big one.
It must’ve been a massive barbarian offensive, but at least the fortress hadn’t fallen.
With safety confirmed, the convoy resumed its march.
Carlile continued with them until they crossed paths with the 3rd Company scouts.
His vacation had been a week longer, so those who returned earlier had already fought the battle.
“You’re back.”
Begmann greeted him casually.
“What happened?”
“Look for yourself. We had a big one. Damn it, I haven’t had a single day’s rest since I got back. It’s been battle after battle.”
If even the usually calm Begmann was grumbling, the past week must’ve been hellish.
“Did you enjoy your vacation?”
“Yes, well… I managed.”
Of course, spending a month getting beaten half to death and narrowly surviving countless times wasn’t something to summarize as “managed,” but there was no need to elaborate.
“Good. Let’s go.”
“…Pardon?”
“I said let’s go.”
“I just got back, though?”
“And?”
“I haven’t even reported to Dame Helen—”
“That can wait. Whether you came back earlier or now, you’re back. A private doesn’t get to complain. If I say go, you go.”
“Isn’t this too fast…?”
“Why do I expect anything from you? You lot, what are you waiting for? Drag our young master out of the convoy.”
At Begmann’s words, the scouts cheerfully grabbed Carlile and pulled him out.
“Let’s go quietly.”
“You sneaky bastards!”
“S-sorry!”
And so Carlile was dragged away by the scouts.
Ugh. Annoying. Back from vacation for one minute and already thrown into operations.
…It was autumn.
