Chapter 469 Please enter the urn
The night is deep, and the moonlight is like water, coating the lively hall of the Governor's Mansion in Twilight City with a lifelike silver glow.
Faced with Irene Campbell, who saved the Twilight Province, all the prominent figures in the entire Twilight City gave her unstinting praise at the dinner celebrating the victory.
·Looking at those compliments, Irene felt like her ears were getting calloused. She kept a polite smile on her face and tasted the toast, but her mind couldn't help but wander outside the city.
It would be great if His Highness Colin was here·
At this moment, the biggest regret in her heart was that she could not share the glory of victory with His Highness who had been "born and died" together.
According to His Highness Colin, he is now the Grand Duke of the Principality of Colin and is not suitable to appear in the Twilight Province at this sensitive time.
The reason why he rushed to the front line day and night was just because he was worried about her. Now that the chaos of chaos has subsided, he will wait for her triumph in Thunder City.
Irene understood very well what His Highness Colin said.
It would be better to say that she was so incredible that he appeared by her side when she needed him most, and was even moved.
Putting the interests of the family first is the basic conduct of any imperial noble.
However, he made decisions against his ancestors again and again for her, and even made that domineering speech in front of the lord of the Mountain Kingdom—
As she thought about it, Erin's thoughts flew further.
「」般下？ "
Looking at Irene, whose cheeks suddenly turned red, Teresa standing aside couldn't help but worry that she had drank too much, so she called out softly.
"What happened?" Irene, who was in a daze, suddenly came back to her senses, and subconsciously placed her right hand on the sword at her waist.
A baron dressed in flamboyant clothes next to her cleared his throat. He was about to approach her with a few words of intimacy, but was frightened by her sudden movement and turned around on the spot, chatting awkwardly with Zhu Zhu.
"No, Your Highness, nothing happened." Looking at Irene who almost pulled out the sword, Teresa was also startled. She quickly comforted her, and then asked in a low voice, "Are you okay?"
.——·I'm fine, Teresa, don't worry about me. "
Realizing that she was being abrupt, Irene looked at her face and coughed.
In order to show that she was indeed fine, she pretended to be calm and drained the champagne in her hand. However, because she drank it too fast, she choked on the bubbles and coughed several times before she stopped.
"Yes—" I have never seen His Highness so reckless, and Theresa was even more worried.
In order to live up to the expectations of her brother who was far away in the Principality of Campbell and His Highness Colin, Irene quickly regained her energy and devoted herself to the banquet that was not yet over.
While Her Highness Irene was regaining her energy, someone was as depressed as an eggplant beaten by frost, sitting in the courtyard drinking wine.
That gentleman is none other than someone else.
It was Theron Gad who made a fool of himself in front of everyone during the day.
I saw the earl sitting slumped on the cold stone bench alone, with two almost empty wine bottles scattered on the table.
"Damn it! Where are the maids in the Governor's Palace! Are they all dead on the city wall? Why didn't anyone come to pour me wine!"
"Come here! Fill it up for me!"
The plump cheeks made a rude noise, and his swollen face was as red as a persimmon, making it hard to tell whether he was drunk or angry.
No waiter dared to come over to touch him, and no one wanted to have red wine poured on his face on this happy day.
What's more, those servants also know how to look at their faces.
Everyone saw the gloomy expression on Governor Ellarik's face during the day. As long as Elalic didn't come to him, no servant would come to serve him.
After Theron saw that no one was paying attention to him for a while, he also felt that he was asking for trouble, so he cursed twice and stopped talking.
The noise coming through the colored windows of the main hall gradually faded away. The elegant sound of the piano was like a candle blown by the wind, and the banquet seemed to be coming to an end.
Everyone was hanging around Irene Campbell, making the courtyard seem increasingly lonely and cold.
Theron only felt that the whole world was against him. He clenched his teeth tightly, but only for a moment he loosened them dejectedly.
It is no longer important.
Irene refused his invitation to send troops, even though he promised to exchange "the taxes of the earldom for the next ten years" to no avail.
If the Principality of Campbell does not send troops, no one in the entire Twilight Province can help him regain his territory, and he is destined to be sent to the dock of the tribunal.
∣ Tribunal.·
∣ At the thought of this name, Theron's body trembled involuntarily, as if he had been showered from head to toe with a basin of ice water.
Once you let those guys know that you gave up the territory granted to you by Saint Sith to the so-called "Salvation Army", you will lose not only the territory, but also all the honor and wealth accumulated by the Gard family over the past thousand years!
The king and the Holy See would roast him over the fire like a mutton, and then strip him off every piece of flesh.
The king will not eat people like those peasants.
But it’s just not eaten directly.
"Holy Saint Sith - I, Theron Gard, have been kind in my life and have never hurt anyone. Why do you punish me like this?"
Just when Theron was suffering from his tragic fate, a very light laughter suddenly came from behind him.
Theron's whole body was shocked. He thought it was a servant who had arrived. Unexpectedly, a mere servant dared to laugh at him. He immediately turned his fat body and roared.
“Who’s there!”
He turned around, but saw no one. Before he could realize what had happened, a breeze blew beside him.
Then there was a "boom" sound, which scared Theron into a cold sweat, and even the cold sweat drained from his body. He turned his head back tremblingly, and saw a wine bottle placed on his table. A middle-aged man wearing leather armor supported the table with his arms and sat down opposite him.
"Theron Gard, Earl of Quemuland, it seems that you have had an unpleasant night." The voice was hoarse and steady, without any emotion, "Since no one is drinking with you, why don't I come and have a drink with you."
"Who - are you?!" Theron stared at the stranger in front of him in horror, suppressing the fear in his heart and the urge to run away, and asked sternly.
At the same time, those small eyes moved quickly, like moths flying under the light, and quickly remembered the person's appearance.
I saw that the man was of medium build, wearing an inconspicuous old leather armor, with a faint scar on his face, extending from the corner of his eyebrow to his cheek, like a poisonous snake lurking in the trees.
This kind of person can never be a noble noble!
But what reassures Theron is that he doesn’t look like someone from the Inquisition either!
"Grega, Raging Vengeance—that is the name of my mercenary group." The man did not hide anything, his tone was gentle, and he even answered his question politely.
This name is really deceiving.
But it looks like a group of uneducated people came up with it.
Theron’s little eyes narrowed and stared straight at him.
"Mercenary? This is a banquet to receive distinguished guests, why are mercenaries here!"
"Allow me to correct you, this is a dinner to celebrate victory. Any winner is qualified to sit here, at least that's what the Baron said."
Looking at the wary Theron, the man who called himself "Grega" grinned and clasped his hands on the tip of his nose as if praying.
As for why I am here, because while the Earl was praying in the church, my brothers and I stood on the wall to resist the tide of chaos."
This is a reasonable reason.
Theron's guard was slightly lowered, but the hostility in his eyes did not dissipate.
How dare a commoner sit at the same table as me!
These guys are really becoming more and more lawless!
If he couldn't lift the stone table, he would have sworn that he would have lifted it by now!
"What's the matter with you?" Looking at Grega who was pouring wine for himself, Theron raised his chin slightly and said condescendingly.
"Of course, I'm here to discuss business with you."
"Ha, then you have found the wrong person," Theron sneered, "I will not do business with civilians, you should go to my butler."
"On the contrary, Lord Earl, this deal can only be negotiated with you," Grega folded his hands on the table and looked at Theron calmly, "Open the sky and speak clearly, I can help you get back the territory you lost - and your dignity."
"Just you? A mercenary? Do you know how many madmen are entrenched there? One hundred thousand people! And there were so many a few months ago! Not to mention that now even the Sword Master has gone crazy with them. How can you, a mercenary, beat the Sword Master?"
"The Sword Master will not stay there forever, let alone aim his sword at enemies outside of Chaos for them. As for the one hundred thousand people, they are just a mob, not to mention that they are all out now. The large army is outside the city, and the interior must be empty."
Grega responded calmly, his voice was clear and clear, as if he did not take the Earl's ridicule to heart at all.
After a pause, he continued.
To be honest, he was really moved.
Just as the mercenary leader said, the Salvation Army and their saint are waiting outside Dusk City to receive the reward, and they are still quite a distance from Quemu Territory!
If these mercenaries are as amazing as they say, they might be able to help him get Quemu Castle back!
However, Theron was still undecided.
Who can guarantee that these people are not here to defraud him of money?
The fattest sheep in the entire Twilight City are the nobles who have left their territories. They don't have a single knight who can fight, but they have plenty of money.
Grega saw the hesitation and greed flashing through Theron's eyes, and an imperceptible smile appeared on his lips.
He could guess with his buttocks that what the earl was worried about was that he was a charlatan, taking money and not doing anything.
He must say that this kind of worry is unnecessary.
The most scammers do is cheat money.
They accepted everyone according to orders.
"I understand your concerns. I know that you are penniless now, and there is no reason to trust people like us with unknown origins."
Grega's tone slowed down, full of "understanding" and consideration.
"So, we can cooperate in another way. We can help you retake Quemu Castle first, and then pay us the reward after you sit on the throne of lord. As for the reward-we don't want too much. You are willing to pay the Campbell people the taxes of the earldom for the next ten years, and we only need nine years."
This sentence was like a thunder, exploding in Theron's mind!
Use now, pay later? !
Is there such a good thing? !
Theron's heart was beating fast, and his breathing became rapid. His eyes looked at Grega with uncertainty, trying to see the flaws in that calm face.
His intuition told him that there must be fraud behind this, but he really couldn't figure out what these people could defraud him of?
"Do I need to pay a deposit?"
"You don't need a single copper plate."
"Why should I believe you!"
h "Well—I think so when you say that. "My proposal is a bit abrupt," Greg thought for a moment, then sighed and stood up, "Just pretend I didn't say it, and I'll ask someone else."
His face was full of regret, like a good old man who had been rejected.
"Wait a minute!"
Looking at the mercenary leader who was about to leave, Theron quickly stopped him and even took the initiative to pick up the wine glass and pour him a glass.
Grega.
"Yes! Cough? Mr. Grega! I was negligent just now. I shouldn't doubt a pious and generous gentleman!" Theron forced a stiff smile from his face, looked at him and said, "But to be on the safe side, can I ask how many of you there are?"
Grega raised two fingers.
"Two thousand people."
Theron's smile froze, and a trace of disappointment flashed in his eyes.
Grega smiled.
"That's enough, do you think we are going to besiege the city? We have horses, we can arrive at Quemu Castle ahead of the Salvation Army, and then we pretend to be one of their own people and sneak in. As long as we seize the city gate, we can deal with them in minutes."
"Can this be done?"
“My answer is, is this difficult?”
Looking at the face full of disappointment, hope was rekindled. Grega knew that he had succeeded, so in a relaxed tone, he added the last chip in front of the count.
"Mr. Earl, please believe me and my brothers. We are professionals in this matter. And we don't have this only way. My brothers have no other skills. What they are best at is sliding doors and picking locks. We can't do it with the regular army. Win, but deal with a bunch of losers—no one is better than us."
The mercenary's voice seemed to have a bewitching magic power. Theron thought about it for a long time, but his last bit of caution was overwhelmed by greed.
Actually, there is no greed at all.
He is an unclaimed de jure lord. He just takes back his castle and continues to shoulder the sacred obligations entrusted to him by Saint Sith. How can this be considered greed?
Even the Inquisition could not find fault with him. He did not compromise with the Salvation Army from beginning to end, and in the end the castle was indeed returned to his hands.
As for these mercenaries·
They really think they are Campbells, with a powerful principality standing behind them. How can they still claim the account nine years later?
Looking at the frank-faced mercenary leader, Theron tried hard to restrain his lips and prevent the ecstasy in his heart from being written on his face.
Of course he will pay in the first year.
In any case, I’m afraid I won’t be able to collect much tax revenue in the first year.
After finishing dealing with the rebels in the earldom, and when the Inquisition returns to report to the Pope, he will be able to bring in real reinforcements in minutes to drive away these greedy jackals!
In just a few seconds, countless thoughts rolled through his mind, and he even considered the arrangements after the Salvation Army was driven away.
Theron cleared his throat, tried to look thoughtful, and reluctantly spoke.
"Okay! If you can really do it, I am willing to use the earldom's future taxes in exchange! It doesn't need to be nine years, just ten years. The conditions I offered to the Campbells are also valid for you! Of course, if you lie to me - you know what the consequences will be if you lie to an earl."
The corners of Grega's mouth curved with pleasure, and there was a trace of imperceptible sarcasm in that sincere smile.
He drank the wine that the Earl had poured for him in one gulp, then wiped his mouth and slapped the cup on the table boldly.
"We can take action at any time," Grega grinned, and even considerately put himself in the Earl's shoes. "As for you - you can go with us, or you can wait here for news from us."
As soon as Grega finished speaking, Theron held the table with both hands, and his fat body bounced off the stone bench like a slingshot.
"Don't doubt the people you trust, don't doubt the people you employ! I trust you!"
I saw that he was exuding an unprecedented aura, staring at the mercenary leader in front of him with bright eyes.
"Let's set out tonight without further ado!"
He certainly wouldn't be stupid enough to go alone.
There were hundreds of servants who fled to Twilight City with him, including some guards with adamantine-level strength.
It is unrealistic to rely on these people to recapture Quemu Castle, but there is no problem in protecting him from the hands of more than 2,000 mercenaries.
The Inquisition was on its way here, and he didn't have time to wait here for an uncertain result.
He only has two choices!
Either you immediately pack up the gold and silver that you brought out of Quemu Castle, take your family and flee to the port of the Principality of Campbell, board a ship, and escape to the New World incognito. Either follow this group of mercenaries and fight back immediately, wash away the shame of the Gard family, and wipe your butt clean before the tribunal arrives.
Looking at this fat pig that exuded a fierce aura, Grega looked at him twice in surprise, and then said happily.
"Of course that's the best one"
"Very good! I'll take my people, and you go and inform yours! An hour later, we will meet at the south gate of Twilight City!"
Before Grega could finish speaking, Theron interrupted him and walked out of the courtyard with great momentum, leaving the banquet behind.
Alalic didn't give him face, and he naturally didn't intend to give the baron face.
Looking at Theron who was about to leave in a hurry, this time it was Grega who stopped him with a dumbfounded voice.
"Wait a minute, Mr. Earl—"
Theron stopped and turned to look at him.
"What's wrong?!"
Grega coughed.
“I understand your feelings, but—should we sign the agreement first?”
Contract?
Is that a problem?
Theron waved his hand impatiently.
"Just sign it on the way!"
Looking at the fat pig hurriedly getting into the cage, Grega helplessly spread his hands and watched the figure walk away.
It wasn't until Theron Gard's figure completely disappeared in the courtyard that he stood up from the stone table and saluted slightly towards the wall not far away with a pious expression.
A pair of amber vertical pupils stared at the courtyard, and then disappeared, blending into the night together with the dark cloak.
The elegant sound of the piano and the interlacing noise continued in the hall, but the moonlight-filled courtyard had unknowingly returned to tranquility.
At Alalic's command, a servant reluctantly carried the tray to the courtyard, but Earl Theron Gard was not here.
The servant was stunned for a moment, but didn’t think much about it.
Perhaps the shameful thing himself felt that staying at the banquet was just asking for trouble, so he left home early.
The servant returned to the hall and told Governor Ellaric who was entertaining the guests that Earl Theron had left without saying goodbye.
Alalic frowned, but didn't take it too seriously.
Compared to a count who is about to be deprived of his title, there is a more distinguished guest at the moment, and he deserves to deal with it with all his energy.
It was an old man as serious as a stone sculpture. Although his temples were stained with white frost, his waist was still as straight as a cypress.
He had a respectful smile on his face, but his back was soaked with cold sweat.
This person is His Majesty's palace steward!
He never expected that this distinguished gentleman was actually in Twilight City, and there was also a magic apprentice from Xuebang with him.
It seems that they have been in this city for a long time.
Elalic thought that His Majesty's people would come, but he never expected that they would just watch here and wait until everything was over before emerging.
Even he himself didn't notice that deep in his panic, there was still a trace of pain spreading quietly.
Sclair looked at Elalric expressionlessly, looking past the frightened face and falling on the Campbell knights who were drinking and chatting with the Lane nobles.
Especially the girl with whiter hair than him.
Him He recognized the sword at her waist at a glance. It was a legend that the Lion people were proud of, but it was also the bane that divided the kingdom.
"Baron Valerius, I think————my Majesty did not invite these guests to his mansion."
“Perhaps, you can give me an explanation?”