Ouroboros Record ~Circus of Oubeniel~
038 Is the king's capital on fire? < 4 >
Mob bees in the city, fires everywhere, mob incursions into aristocratic neighborhoods -.
The Marquis de Lavalle residence had been flirted with by the numerous anomalies that had struck Brosenne.
"Reward the damage! What the hell is going on in downtown!?
"More than that, it's the number of people heading this way! Noble, who are you after?
Belly-minded members of the ministerial corps are rushing around to communicate with the various places concerned and gather information, but the results do not improve as of late. There are two main reasons for this.
"What's going on with your contact with the royal palace!? I have a conversation with the court magician."
"No, you can't! There's no jamming, but the other side doesn't respond! I thought you resented Uncle Kartan!
"Ku... you magicians, run into personal affection over this period!
One is this. In a recent incident, Uncle Kartan, a former court magician, lost his legs because of Lavalle's conspiracy. It is already a well-known fact that in the shanty put down by the High Court, it is a matter of personal misconduct, but the reality is that it is the entanglement of the battle between Lavalle and Turius Ovenil.
The fact that our own peers were made the stock of conspiracy, and it failed or truncated, led us to buy a great deal of distrust from the court demon conductors. Because of this, there may be inconvenience in contacting this important matter as well.
And the other one,
"Do you want to return the shady one who was sticking to the oven...?
Yes, it's the Turius Shrounan Ovenil. Teng himself, who broke Uncle Caltan's legs on the occasion of the trial and also wounded him in the name of Marquis Lavalle. Dangerous person who caused all this noise for one slave. To monitor it, the intelligence power of the Marquis Lavalle is largely divided. Before the trial, it began the day after the wedding, when Kartan deprived him of his personality. This measure was behind it, resulting in a decline in intelligence-gathering capacity in the wake of the mutiny.
One of the ministers contemplates the recall of those who sent him to dissolve it.
But...
"Stop it. Leave the watchman alone."
No other Lord, the Marquis of Lavalle, hung the wait.
"Lord, but -!"
"The whole Wang capital is in a time of emergency late...? That's why I can't keep my eyes open."
Lavalle to say pale, but his expression is harsh.
In any case, the time is right. It is this case as soon as there is no longer any reason to reclaim the taken uni and stay in the King's capital. Not that Linus, but I can't help but feel the possibility that Turius is pulling a thread on this matter as well.
If that's the case, that man is sure to make some kind of move. That's what Lavalle was reading.
Also,
"That kid is too sensitive to look at the opportunity. I don't know what to do with this commotion."
Even if it's not what he set up, he might take action in this gap. With that possibility in mind, I didn't feel like removing my surveillance eyes at this time, though not very much.
The minister's man bows his head in the face that he is unacceptable.
"I'm in awe. But the delay in information due to that..."
"I know. I can't blame you for any delay."
Put aside, Lavalle stroked the costume he had made sneak in his nostalgia. It is a courtesy to communicate by magic, imported from that abominable Zanktogaren. When Turius moved out, a call was supposed to come in from the watchman.
And there are two of those costumes.
One connects the Ovenil Mansion to a group under surveillance. The other is a group where Turius keeps an eye on his brother and the slaves who are staying in his quarters. If that man is up to something, either group will blame him. That way, you'll have to work hard to catch his tail.
(Ayatsuzu is also an alchemist. Have similar tools in place. I'm not overlooking that possibility.)
It is the eighteenth of the alchemists who make the costume, or the magical tool. There's no way Turius can't do that. He also heard about a secret detective Linus sent to Marlan in the spring. Anything, it looked like a giant freezer in the basement, and the usefulness said that the rabbit also housed a costume that was the birthplace of advanced technical skills as a corner. Then it wasn't surprising that Turius was producing something like the communication courtesy Lavalle had.
And if you plan something by multiplying this commotion, use it to get in touch with the slave who brought you to the king's capital and move this. Otherwise, he should use his subordinates staying at the Ovenil mansion with himself, such as a martial officer named Dooe or Uni, who just got it back the other day.
(Though it may be a matter of concern... uniform)
Regardless, it is also possible that Turius has nothing to do with this disturbance. Let the mob bee up in the middle of the Wang capital to kill the citizens and even attack the aristocratic city... an outrage you can't complain about being executed for treason. If any connection is found with the mobs, the death penalty will not be spared. It's also risky to multiply this by something. The formula for buying unwanted suspicions and discrediting them when exposed is huge.
But Lavalle's sense of smell as a conspirator cannot help but feel the presence of Turius behind things. Therefore, the surveillance hand could not be loosened here.
Nor can there be any inconvenience in not being able to cope with the riot by fooling around with Turius. Marquis Lavalle is useless in the palace. It is the active prime ministers, ministers and generals who should be held accountable, not the old noblemen of the first place.
What's more, the mob's main constituents have been working with some loud activists lately. We hear they have come up to the capital to complain about the tyranny of local lords. If so, it would be better to ram it up somewhat, as well as material when attacking the decentralists. Of course, it is difficult to be attacked by the royal palace and wrongly harmed by the king... but there is no such power to the extent of the raised civilian population. Brosenne's Royal Castle is not that brittle, nor does it have a weak defensive power. No, to the extent of properly armed civilians, there is a good chance that they will also be kicked in by aristocratic private soldiers.
Even if it doesn't move, there's no harm in it - the leeway made Lavalle give priority to measures against Turius.
The decision was, in a way, correct and, in a way, wrong.
activists who pushed to the aristocratic district. The first attack they made was on the residence of a regional nobleman named Viscount Druane. Some climb the walls, some slam the gates down, and then step onto the grounds.
Raising the fury of resentment, he plunges down the statue that was placed in the garden and steps through a well-maintained implantation. And I reached the front door, and I slammed the door.
"... open it! Come out! You rotten nobleman!
"Come forth before us in adultery, and atone for that sin!
The owners of the mansion look down the upstairs window at its noisy appearance.
Viscount Druane, who was dressed in a relaxed gown, either after he had eaten and bathed in the water, also leaked his tongue into the dew for discomfort.
"... the lowlifes pushed me to my mansion with their thoughts."
When I offer my hand in the air as I say it, the woman who was standing unattended gives me a drink with a familiar hand. The woman's neck was fitted with a silver collar. I am a slave.
Normally, nobles do not put slaves aside. Because I have the idea that if we keep the humble close, we will have a scratch on our name. except as a gateway to desire. Although it is limited to beautiful female slaves, and although it does not stand out in all its formats, in the inner gatherings there were rare instances of showing off to like-minded aristocrats. Sometimes, not only do I show them, I lend them overnight to use them. It's a decadent side of the privileged class.
Druan is also one of those aristocrats. Usually he devours taxes in the territory and attends the King's Capital every few years to interact with similar nobles or buy new slaves. Let's just say someone who follows a typical statue of nobility hated by the activists packing it outside.
He whisks in frustration. To the clap, the ice that danced in the glass made a noise with Karan. Both this distillery liquor and the luxury of adding ice to the liquor are the first to be tasted in the capacity of nobility.
"How long have you guys been liking those guys?
Viscount Druane, saying so, stares behind his back at the men who stand indoors. They are martial officers serving this house and the private soldiers employed by this man. Those who listened to the disturbances and rushed to their masters, who were about to engage in a war with female slaves, and instilled in them the occurrence of a perversion.
As you represent, a man of the martial arts opens his mouth.
"Ha. We're going to repel now. As for you, your Lord will not be moved without darkness, and may you wait here for us to return -"
"Your help is good... just go!
"- Ha ha!
The grumpy is also sent to the voice of his dewy husband, and the men leave the room.
On the way down the hall, one of the private soldiers opened his mouth.
"Sir, it's our job at last, but can I get my salary as contracted?
Druan, his employer, was terribly angry when the mob vandalized his garden. Most noblemen can still cheat on money that they should be able to pay at a time like this. There's been damage to the mansion, so I don't appreciate what you're doing. This man is hired to escort his neighbors, so in this case, it's up to him to pay for it. However, many aristocrats do not put their emotions first.
The samurai man said with a sigh.
"If you're worried about that, just clean it up. While you're at it, your mood keeps leaning diagonally, okay?
"Heck.... man, I guess I got my employer wrong"
The private soldier drops his shoulder so that he can stand aside. Anyway, it was going to be a sinister job to pay for.
but it is a worry.
He no longer has to bother his head about his benefits in the future.
"-" Sadondez Insight ""
A low, gloomy spell flies from the corner of the hallway, its shadow.
At the same time, the men squatted holding their breasts.
"Ugh... Huh!?
"... Huh!... Huh!?
It feels rough and breathless with cold, wet hands and an immediate grip on the heart.
Many lose consciousness and become immobile at the end of it.
(hey what... happened!? Come on, my breath...)
The only exception was the martial officer, the Viscount's direct minister. Only the aristocrats have been officially hired by the boulders and are luxuriously equipped. The protection of the amulet, which had been lowered from the neck, had painstakingly spared immediate death by spell.
An ominous shadow hangs on his face as he falls down on the floor, suffers algae scratches and scratches his chest from above his chest armor.
"Heh? You didn't die instantly, did you? Though the instant death magic of chanting omission, I can't believe I can't kill it in one breath...... Whoa, I'm sorry to hear that. Huh. I'm busy with bug habits, you."
Saying that with naive cruelty while lurking his voice was someone with a bat-shitted ominous silhouette. Coming closer with a chick and a cloaked foothold, it even seems like a reaper mowing a person's soul to play.
And that prediction was right.
"Shit, it doesn't change the outcome, huh? Well, bugs are like bugs."
"... Huh!...... Ew!!
The shadow that appeared hung his feet around the man's neck,
"- Don't get trampled, Yikes!
Gokiri and mercilessly broke his neck bone.
He bends his neck like a broken doll and drips a muscle of blood from his mouth. It was instant death. And now the power of the Druan mansion is devastation.
Confirming that, the shadow turned its heel back.
"Well. I'll leave it to the people who push me here.... Damn, the master will think of troublesome maneuvers too. If we were to turn this city into an eye-catcher anyway, we'd just have to open up our abilities and flatten it out. I think it feels hundreds of times better. And then I picked some cute kids."
With bumps and squeals, proceed with your steps.
Its body gradually changes from a foot to a black mist as to what magical effect it may have.
Eventually something completely misty went through the narrow clearance of the closed window and left the hall.
The figure, which no one else could see but the corpse, was like a vampire bewitched by a bloody legend.
A few minutes later, the activists stepped into the hall and started searching the house as they lay their necks on the bodies they had not laid their hands on. I discovered Viscount Druane relaxing in her room in swallowing, and raised her to a blood festival, the slaves of the mistress. This was the result of the Viscount's unusual and honest listening to the minister and not moving from the room.
Gaston Just was satisfied.
His comrades, led by him, have already made four successful raids on noble mansions, killing all their families. Whatever, after I killed him, I sprinkled the oil and set him on fire. It is a castle of evil built by exploitation and oppression, such as the noble mansion. If you don't even leave a single column and burn it down until it's ash, you can't purify it. He firmly believed so.
If I could, I would have liked to have caught a glimpse of the mansion burning down, but I don't either. Because even as we squander our time, we don't know when Kingsguards and others will show up as reinforcements and threaten our backs.
We have to kill more nobles before that happens.
We have to burn down the mansion more before we do.
Driven by the urge to scorch his brain and the hatred that shoots up his chest, Gaston fans and leads his comrades to the next target.
"Let's go, gentlemen! I don't have time to stop! The next person to be solemnly cleared is more cunning and sinful than ever! Don't miss a thing, hurry! I'm in a hurry to hunt!
"Ooh, guston each other!
"Who is it? Who's next?
Comrades who are bloodthirsty and eye-catching vicious ministers and are happy to ask about their next prey. Though divided between the city and the aristocratic district, the number of people on this occasion alone slightly exceeds the triple digit. All of them were hungry for blood. Squeezed and fattened from ourselves, to the blood of the nobles.
Gaston responded to them, pointing to one mansion that looked across the street.
"Behold, that wicked gatekeeper! I appreciate it, the stench drifting from then on!... that mansion is the Ovenil Hall! A nest of [man-eating snakes], feared by gloomy abuse!
When Gaston screams like that, the crowd beneath him is confused.
I guess that infamous legend is something that nobles are still unfamiliar with the civilian population. Many whisper with a puzzled and revealing look.
"Ovenil......? You know what?
"No, I don't know"
"Whatever, comrade Gaston says oh! You must be a bad nobleman!
In the meantime, one man leaked a potpourri.
"Rumor has it, I've heard... that since I was a hungry ghost, I've been stuffing slave markets and there were nobles who bought slaves to kill at home."
"Kill a slave...?
"Hey, what are you doing here? What are you doing that for...?
"I don't know! You must be such a bad taste pervert!
"Hih, that's terrible..."
"Forgive me for being such a shitty nobleman. Eh!
As soon as possible, the hatred of the crowd boils. After seeing it through, the leader screams.
"Yes, I forgive you! Think about it, schematics of domination by nobility! They exploit taxes from us, and if they can't pay, they drop them into slavery! If you resist domination, you will cast it into slavery again as a sin! Where those slaves are going is that hellish mansion!
"Oh, oh...!
"Yes, I don't like it... I can't believe you killed me like a toy after being enslaved...!
"That's right! Some of you will have enslaved your family! Let me show you the end of it! It's a demon offering lurking in that mansion! He's a sacrificial sheep tied to a collar and dragged to a slaughterhouse!
"Ugh, it's a lie... oh, my sister, too, is a slave with a piece of debt...! Uh-oh!?
"Ah, it's the devil! Ovenil is the devil! Nobles are demons!
"You can't let him live. Hey, he's like that! Kill him! Kill him!
Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.
Kill [Slave Killer]. Kill the [man-eater snake].... Kill the ovenil!
The people now led by activists are filled with unprecedented outrage.
aristocratic society through which it falls into slavery the people. An aristocratic hall that kills slaves at its extremes. The people who had been abused by the nobles believed it was just to destroy the mansion Gaston had shown them and to kill all their inhabitants.
The morale is now at its peak even after the bee.
"Let's go, gentlemen! Even in exchange for that life - kill the ovenil! This is proselytizing!
"" Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Gaston commands, and people who have turned into thugs cry out to the Ovenil mansion.
In the light of the fire in the aristocratic city, a blood-running crowd of eyes gleaming with hate runs. It was a sight where demons crawled out of hell and even thought to have overflowed this world.
In front of the Ovenil mansion, there are two guards with spears. They raised their voices toward the interior of the mansion as the crowd approached and peeled off their eyes.
"Ku, he's a crook! No, it's a riot!
"These guys, they're called activists - heh!?
"Die yee yee yee yee!!
The thugs push against the gates of the mansion as waves.
One of the guards pokes his spear aggressively, but he could only serve to stab the leading mob. No, on the contrary,
"Yes, after all, even though... Huh!
"Ugh, wow!? What are they doing?
The mob, stabbed in the belly by a spear, secures it with both hands so that it doesn't fall out and seals the guard's weapon. Another struck at the gap with a weapon in his hand. The two guards are quickly swallowed up in the waves.
"Die, die, die. Yeah, eh!
"Devil's Clue! Die!"
"Hih, guh, ya, stop! Oh, we don't..."
"Die! Die! Die!
The voice of begging for life is also scratched out by anger, beaten and stabbed from all directions.
By the time the guards rushed to hear the noise, the guards were completely out of breath.
"What is this... What the hell is going on!?
"I don't know! Anyway, slay these inmates!
The only soldiers who emerge from the mansion are the immediate family of Count Ovenil on the boulder. It was not the same level of practice as a guard. It also moved for a moment, and when you get right back on your feet, you slash and throw away the person you're attacking later. Those who stepped on the bump jumped and involved the follow-ups, pushing the crowd back temporarily brilliantly.
"Distracted, you civilians!
"Horn on the rabbit, push back! It's this mess, the Knights will be rushing in soon! Let him have it till then!
Number of martial officers rushed, roughly ten. Whether due to the size of the mansion or the stature of the Count, it is a rare gesture. Because [Slave Killer] 's bad reviews kept the servant's legs far apart, and very few private soldiers preferred to be hired.
Even though it's small enough to fly if you blow it, it's not what you've been dealing with before. The mob moves backwards,
"... don't be afraid!
Gaston flies his back.
"They are evil among the corrupt aristocrats, Running Dogs of the Ovenil Family! It's unacceptable to step back scared of that before! Fight, eh! Fight, die! No, you fight when you die, comrades!
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!
"Hooray! Long live comrade Gaston! Long live the civic movement!
"Freedom! For the sake of equality!
Again, a wave of people pushes over. But this time it wasn't easy to get slashed. No, I don't get slashed, but then it's awesome.
One was beating up an ovenil gesture with a weapon he could carry, even though he was slashed.
Some also grabbed the sword buried at the shoulder mouth with their hands and held it until they dropped their fingers with both blades.
Some people use their own blood to crush their eyes.
Orbnil gestures are taken with one person and one person again in an attack that he abandoned his life and doesn't think is sane.
"Hey, what the heck, these guys..."
"Oh, you're out of your mind! Aren't you afraid to die!?
At last, the martial officers reduce their numbers to half the time they come out and fall back with their pulled hips. Gaston laughs at the unusual appearance.
"Behold! The oppressor's spirits flee! Don't forgive me! Follow me! We bled them out. Not before! Citizens' paradise is coming down! Kill him, kill him, kill him! For freedom and equality. Ku ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!
His laughter turned out to be a laugh like his hoop had come off at last.
With one of my orders, a life-threatening crowd. Hounded by it, abominable aristocracy. I was in a good mood. In excess of excitement and intoxication, the front of my pants is tight and my mouth drips with covetousness. Even if they were exposed, the people wouldn't follow Gaston and worship him.
(... I'm God)
I thought that because of the gushing almighty feeling.
(Everyone obeys my word, fights, and dies. Yes, I am the god of the civilians!
Gaston recollects, whilst grudging at disrespectful and unscrupulous thoughts.
At first, it didn't work out so well. Whenever I preached in the city, I was laughed at, ridiculed, stoned and connected to prison. We increased our comrades one by one without frustration, but all we could do was swarm and raise our voices and stroll through the city.
But this past week has changed everything. The number of those who responded to Gaston's voice and threw themselves into the activity increased to one. All of them followed Gaston's orders. Once you lay down your life, you risk your death to the point where you try to fulfill it.
It is as if it were magic. All the words in his mouth became reality. Both the uprising in the city and the raid on the aristocratic district with it in positive motion are progressing well. Nobles, it's no bigger than I thought. Same as when you solemnly sanctified the merchants of the city. If you step into the building and kill it, and hang it on fire, that's it. This ovenil mansion on boulders, although only the nest of great evil has some resistance, will soon be eliminated as well.
At this rate, we might be able to kill all the nobles in the capital by the end of the evening. No, not even a king.
(Yes, that's good. Once you've cleaned up the nobles, the king is next. And I'll stand over the people as a mentor... Damn, isn't that funny? Foolish people, I will guide you. And let's give. Freedom and equality under me!
Gaston continues to laugh as he delays his childish dreams in the sour nose sight.
He was happy.
... That was the pinnacle of happiness.
"Keep shagging around, too."
At the same time that such a voice can be hung, the frenzy of the people stops perfectly.
It was never, ever loud. Say it was a quiet one. But the crowd of thugs stuffed in the Ovenil mansion was certainly stopped by that voice.
If you notice, in front of the front door of the mansion, a man stood. A long swordsman, wrapped in black armor on a black coat. On his back, a great two-handed sword, responsible for making sure the sinner bears the cross. He was a swordswallowing impression.
The man, as he walks over to the relieved crowd, grabs up indiscriminately, with one hand, the painfully breathtaking martial officer who was laid upon them.
"Hey, are you alive?
"Ugh, gu... oh, you... Marlan's -"
"If I could talk, I wouldn't have a problem. Look, just go home to the mansion."
With that said, I threw this behind my back again ramblingly.
When the thrown man smacks his ass cake, he runs back into the mansion with his crawling body. The thugs were unable to follow it. Anyway, in front of you, there's a man - an armed adult man - who lifts and throws away with one hand without permission. There's no way I can keep my eyes open in the face of such a threat.
"Who is it, you?"
What does Gaston do by seeping in discomfort? Until this man showed up, the situation was progressing as he wished. Yet this guy stopped the movement of the crowd just by calling out, helping the noble men who should be sacrificing the revolution, and he still exists before himself.
I couldn't forgive it. Inside Gaston, the feeling of inexcusable presence of this man swelled rapidly.
Fulfilling a man, who responds to what.
"I, Dooe Schwartzer -"
It wasn't a matter of pride, it wasn't a matter of humility, it was a sound like nothing.
That's what's bothering Gaston again. Now the activists are surrounding the mansion. Standing in front of the mansion, so is the man you named Dooey. How can you be so flat in a situation where you are being held here for life or death?
but the words that followed were not what I needed to do where I didn't like them.
"- You guys want to kill me, I'm a servant of [Slave Killer]."
And as I say, I pull out my two-handed sword on my back and set it up uncrafted.
At the same time, Gaston screamed.
"Kill him. Yeah. eh!!
Minister of [Slave-Killing]. There is no way that activists screaming for the openness of the civilian population, such as a man who names such an obscene title, can keep it alive.
Neglected, ordered thugs fly to Dooe.
"Whoa, whoa!
"Long live Comrade Gaston!
"For freedom and equality!
A human wave tao tries to swallow a black man - just before,
"... it's lukewarm."
A two-handed sword flashed.
A pushed hedge is pushed back the other way, turning into a red mist and disappearing.
Many human beings were slaughtered and scattered under one sword.
"What?"
I couldn't believe the sight that spread in front of me, and Gaston raised a loose voice between them.
To its cheeks, it is bathed with raw warm liquid.
It was the blood back of a slashed comrade.
"Ghabu!?
"What! What... something's flying in - hiccup!? Ku, Necky!?
At the same time screaming in the rear. Some of the human body that Dooe slashed off also hit the surrounding activists as stray bullets.
The neck, hands and feet, the torso, turns into an impromptu shotgun and wields majesty.
Those who took it and were screamed at by the identity of the murder weapon that hurt them are still fortunate. Some of the unlucky people were dying instantly, taking heavy parts of their bodies to steep points such as their heads.
Teng himself, who created a sour nose sight, whines melancholy as he shakes off his gains.
"I knew you were... toothless."
The voice contains nothing but imprisonment and nothingness. With ridiculous force, I didn't even feel accomplished. That's natural, too, because he's not serious.
If the swordsman, [Flying Sword], who was once present with him, was here and was sane, he must have reputed it as below.
"No momentum, no sword, no will, no together. Playing blow too."
and.
He's an activist, even if he thinks it's a revolution, he's just a bunch of people. Turned daily tools into weapons, just civilians. This is the first time today that I have not gained any training to win a battle, nor have I gained enough talent to wager death in action. This makes it weirder to be able to fight the right battle for Dooey's glasses.
Nor was this man a child to the point of waving all his might against such an opponent. So the first blow just gently washed away the people who were coming at us. Such a hands-free blow killed people, splashed limbs, and wounded those involved. That's all.
"... Well? What are you gonna do, activist husband?"
"Hih!?
Gaston leaks a cramped scream as he gazes at Dooey, who raised his eyes lazily. There is no majesty there as an activist leader or a burning eye for hatred of the powerful. There's just one frightened peasant.
"My job is to protect the Lord. If you're going home, I'm not going after you."
Saying, Dooe slaps and slashes a mob that has come on its way with no punishment. Later on in the sight, the fan sits powerless, the others rush to jump to the swordsman. It was as if Gaston were just trying to foolishly execute the "kill" instructions he issued.
Or as if you were being manipulated by something.
"Comrade Gaston, 10,000 -"
"Freedom and equality -"
The scream is cut off by the sword wind and cut off. The aroused citizens die in front of the black swordsman, utterly innocent.
"... Sa, what do we do!?
A drink of Dooey flew like a rush.
Gaston, struck by its voice,
"Ya, retreat ah -!!
There was not a single pile, and when I yelled like that, I wanted to shake my ass and ran away.
"Ha, retreat...?
"Duh, comrade, put your enemies in front of you, what..."
"That's fine...... You have to obey the horns and the instructions of your comrades..."
The concentrating thugs, too, were baffled for a moment, but immediately followed and began to leave. After that, it was like the tide would draw.
The aristocratic city, and the crowd that made the Ovenil mansion noisy, leave in an instant.
All that remained was a bunch of scattered corpses and a doue exposing his indifferent expression with his sword in his hand.
The sword ghost, who kicked the mob on a single horseback, whines one.
"Tsumanje... How many times do I have to repeat this? I..."
The dry words stained the bloody wind and disappeared without anyone ever asking.
Time goes back only slightly.
In the Ovenil mansion, it stood completely afloat. The fact that a mob stuffed the front door and killed the guard. With the exception of my second son's statement, I can say that it is the biggest weird thing in this House. The few martial officers who report directly to the Lord head for interception, leaving family members only to the right and left. In that vortex, Linus Strain Ovenil sat on the couch in his living room with a rugged face.
The young Count leaks the voice of the pressed-down inquiry from the edge of his mouth.
"... what's the situation"
"Ha! Our martial officers are struggling with the mob that broke through the front gate, but they seem to be defenceless in many ways."
The deacon's response, which he withheld beside him, could not be relied upon.
Anyway, the mobs are numbered. Listen, a hundred people say they have a head count that doesn't go down. Compared to other houses of the same size, the furniture of the Ovenil family in the house also threatened to prevent intrusion into the mansion. Ningro, I can tell you that the martial officers are doing well, just because they are at a disadvantage but still haven't allowed them to break in.
Regardless, Linus' belly doesn't heal. He is a good laugher, for example, when civilians pushed him to his quarters in the king's capital, and when he was a guardian, he harmed his minister. It just happened that my family name was painted with mud. The wrinkles between the eyebrows become deeper.
"Don't look scared."
Simone, my wife, is the one who just said she was frightened.
"It's not our Lord's role to appease those in the house at a time like this?
"... I know"
That said, Linus' expression didn't clear. In any case, there has been a constant and unprecedented rise of the people in the King's capital. At least not between his birth and today. To a completely unexpected situation, Linus did not know the hitter.
There,
"Excuse me."
There was a look of a young man rushing in hastily. Beginning with Linus, the whole family of Counts of Ovenil look disgusted. The exception is about Simone.
"Oh, you... are indeed Lord Turius's..."
"Yes, this is my subordinate Rubel."
Jean-Jacques Rubert, then insane, a freak who serves the infamous Turius. Between the master of this house and those who serve it, that second son and his associates have a terrible reputation. Even so, he came into the Lord's chamber with a thick face. It is a matter of making your face tannic.
Linus takes control of his wife with his hands and lowers her back. She looked uncomfortable, but oddly enough, she had a strong shoulder to her brother, and she couldn't leave it to her to deal with his men.
"Sir, what are you doing here? From what I've seen, he doesn't seem to be here."
As you pointed out, there is no sign of Turius, Rubel's master. All I had with me were men who looked like Rubel's men or coworkers.
"My lord, I am in the midst of a bath, so I am sending people to reward the strangeness"
"Bathing?
Sure, the time is around the end of the evening. It's not strange to be in the bath.
"Hold on, you'll come this way. When this happens, it's safer to consolidate it in one place."
"I don't remember allowing that, do I?
"Linus."
Simone speaks of the colour of reprimand.
It's like exposing the discord in the house in an outrageous way, such as tightening up my brother and his minister over this period. In addition, in the unlikely event that something happens because of it, it can also create unnecessary misunderstandings around you.
"... I didn't even say I wouldn't allow it. Until I got the law right in the house."
That's what Linus excuses himself for saying, until he thought his brother's arbitrary devotion was unfavourable. My wife just happened to sigh. You thought you couldn't grow up in an emergency, but just before you actually complained out of that mouth,
".......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................
Such a voice is heard from a place far away, but surely somewhere in the mansion.
It's a scream of a young woman.
"What's going on?
"Is it a mob? The table will still hold up… you broke a window or broke into it from a servant's hand on the back"
And the maid of the mansion and so on came across it and screamed.
It could be. But it was an unpleasant imagination. In that case, he will be able to scratch the back where the mansion's troops are concentrated on the main entrance, and the opponent will be able to raid Linus and the others caged here at leisure.
A rushed footsteps echoed from the hallway, as I supported my imagination.
Linus looks toward Rubert.
"What about your martial officer?
"… we are headed towards hatred and reinforcement to the table"
"You pointed them all at me? You're telling me there's not one left!?
"Everyone and nothing… I have invited you to a conspicuous seat, so the martial officer who accompanied me was Dooey alone"
I have trouble expecting this power now, while you call the wedding an excuse and are forced to keep it -.
Behind Rubel's smug reply, I take such intentions into account.
But now was not the time to indulge in it.
The footsteps are definitely coming this way. Worst of all, we have to repel the intruders with the personnel in this room.
(... can you?
Drink solid spit. Linus Strain Ovenil is a man who has been more concerned with exemplary aristocracy than young men. Some of the training that has been built for this purpose includes swordsmanship for military and personal protection purposes in case of emergency. Unfortunately, I have no experience in action, although I don't think I can take a step backwards for a decadent nobleman or a half-breed civilian who is just delayed in amusement. The minister now serving in the room, like Linus or less, would be out of the question to his wife Simone. She has no magic, and she is a young lady who cannot be expected to be armed.
Speaking of magic, Linus didn't have that talent either. Although it is the belly of the business, it is entirely up to Turius to use his talent in this area. That abominable brother has an understanding, albeit minor, of the field other than alchemy. Simply, I could tell you that the man was better off, familiar with the magic guidance than I was when I was a kid and was also at the end of the Academy seat, if I were just to shake off the firepowder I would wear.
As long as Turius rendezvous, there's a good chance they'll all hold up safely -.
When the idea passed my head, I accidentally wanted to beat myself up. More importantly, borrow the hand of the most unwilling man in the world to kill?
I'm not kidding. As long as you do that, fight with your own hands clean. And if you don't, I'm gonna die a lot of people. It's a more ruinous life because of him than it was before. I'm not going to make it that long.
Linus prayed as he hung his hands on the approaching footsteps to the protective sabel.
Please don't let yourself be saved by that man.
The wish was fulfilled as to what God might think.
"... excuse me!
Saying, whoever came in with the door slammed open roughly was not a feared intruder. He is a maid wearing an apron dress and holding something in her luggage with both arms.
but linus didn't recognize the maid. No, it was a look that exactly matched the maid I knew, but I wasn't confident I could tell she was the person.
Somehow, this woman I know is not of the nature of shouting, and her expression is a hateful iron skin is the norm. There is no way I can expose such a hasty voice and face in public.
I would have had a similar sentiment, Rubel, etc., with his mouth wide open and utterly silent.
After the men who lost their words, it was Simone who called the woman.
"Uni,...?
Yes, he was just a slave back under his brother after the trial riots the other day.
The slave yells at Rubel, ignoring Simone's voice.
"Sir Rubert!
"What, uh, yes?
"Get your husband's stuff out of the room! It's an emergency!
"Oh, you know... that's my fear of running into intruders..."
"Didn't you hear me!? Come on!"
"Hih! Oh, wow, I get it!
Make sure you're pushed by that sword screen, and Rubel flies out of the room.
Linus, no, the people gathered in the room were flabbergasted. Though there are plenty of complaints between those who serve the same Lord that slaves would ordain to nobility even if they were, or ignore the call of Our Lady without kneeling before the Countess, they cannot let it rise to the edge of their mouths. If you utter an extra word, there is an atmosphere in the Uni today that is about to be stabbed to death at that moment.
The person in question didn't seem to notice the surroundings staring at you for fear, and lowered the luggage he had brought to the floor with trembling hands.
That, at first glance, also looks like a packed equally sized doll. An adult male or so was wrapped around with a cloth and lay powerless.
No, you're not.
It's not a doll or anything. Every time I repeatedly breathe thin, my chest goes up and down. Occasionally, I hear a groaning voice in agony. And most importantly, there was a twitching red stain on the fabric surrounding it.
This is human. He is a man who follows bloodshed injuries and is on the verge of death.
"The one who..."
"... stay away from me!
Uni took a sip of the floating linus and sheltered it by covering it with the injured man in charge.
Before you feel the humiliation yelled at by slaves, you feel fear and lose your hips. The voice of this female slave even included killing. If you try to touch the person in a detour, you will strip your fangs without hesitation, like a mother tiger trying to protect a tiger child.
I perceived it, and I was pressured. Enlighten at the same time.
There's only one person as far as Linus knows, such as the person this woman tries to protect that far.
"Ugh... cum..."
In a bitter, grumpy applause, the person peered his head from the top of the cloth.
Red copper hair reminiscent of blood rust. There are parts of my face that somehow resemble me, and every time I notice it, I get disgusted.
Turius Shrounan Ovenil.
An abominable brother, whom he wished to die, exposed his dying blue face.
"Shit, no, uni... it hurts... frightens me, I don't want to..."
Turius complains as he sprinkles blood bubbles from the corners of his mouth with Kopokopo.
Uni became more and more frenzied by the fine voice that begged for that pity.
"Ah, your husband! Don't talk to me! Don't worry, don't worry! Oh, my God, I can help you! We're here to help!
Snoozing faces, tears and tears.
Only the cries of Uni and the rough breath of Turius echo indoors. No one else can speak up. To put it in a far-fetched way, it wouldn't be strange if the next moment this madman got furious and killed them all. At least that's what Linus believed.
But Simone, not as familiar with the woman in front of him, opens his mouth in awe.
"Yes, what the hell happened?
Linus looked at his wife in surprise. What do you do? I felt unconstitutionally fingered with hazardous materials that I didn't even know when or what would explode with a cut. It's like I don't feel alive.
Fortunately, it didn't erupt this time.
"I, your husband, in the gap where I went to see what was going on out there... Huh! Oh, I was serving to prevent this! He just came back! Whoa, whoa, whoa...!
That's what I said, it makes me cry again. It was a rupture, but you would probably say that the assassin, who foresaw where she took her eyes off, harmed Turius in the bath.
(What the hell is really going on...?
Linus silences.
The mob pushed to the Ovenil Mansion. And Turius, who was attacked by a gap distracted by it.
At first glance, the Turius raid appears to be on the extension of the uprising. But the individual impression is the opposite. M.O. and M.O. are too different between the noisy, disorderly thugs who asked for a few favors and the assassins who attacked Turius without missing a moment's gap and left him to bear the deep hand.
I also know that this female slave also serves as an escort for her stupid brother, Linus. He was so trusted that he followed his studies in Zanktogaren and his downward journey to Marlan that he kept them close at all times. The woman also has an incomprehensible loyalty to kick even the opportunity to become a noble lady and return to her slavery. At this point in time, just after I got back out, etc., it would have been perfect with that recoil. Would there be a gap in the Russian-raised civilians, etc.? This nasty bitch left the Lord for so long because she cared about what was going on out there. The opportunity for a raid should be very brief. And Turius himself can use magic so much that he can defend himself to some degree.
Secretly breaking into noble mansions, searching for the target's whereabouts, breaking it off from a troublesome escort, extending to assassinations of targets capable of using magic. Those who can imitate like that, that is not the case with noble children either.
(Wait -)
Unexpectedly, there was something flashing behind my brain.
(- Aristocrats' children, you say?
The Turius Raiders are noble hands...... the hypothesis was so natural that the assassin was more than a member of the mob.
It is Theory that disputes between nobles are generally arbitrated in a High Court ruling, or settled in politics, collusion, or conspiracy. but there have also been no cases of attempts to open them in a more direct way than assassinations. Hate, get out of my way, kill me. Nobles who dye their hands in foolishness by thinking so briefly will always be present, even in a few. Linus himself is trying to kill Turius in the first place, and six years ago, even Prince Wang was assassinated. It is not surprising that a rival aristocrat sent an assassin to Turius today, and I would like to do so myself if I could.
(That's possible...... But if so, who -!?)
Unexpectedly, Linus was up off the couch.
And ask Uni with a lower voice to avoid irritation as much as possible.
"Listen, what happened to the assassin who attacked my brother"
"... slashed. Is that it?
The answering voice was calmer than earlier, but the degree of madness that was pregnant was increasing. I guess it plugs deeper into the realm and increases the pressure rather than saying that the mourning and anger has disappeared. And this woman, too, is not only an accomplice to the plot that nearly tore her and her husband apart, knowing as much as Linus is willing to kill Turius. If you think about it, you can't be delighted to be called out where you are pouring the Spirit into the Lord's hand. The cold and calm voice, in its fruit, the embodiment of the icy intention to kill, was the eyesight to look at vengeance.
Drink the pressure rising from the dovetail and ask again.
"... where's the body?
"It stays rolled. Is that all you're talking about?
If so, the place would be the bathroom.
Leaving his gaze out of the sight that is likely to petrify him when he meets his eyes, Linus speaks to the minister.
"Let's see. Follow me."
"Huh?"
"Hey, you..."
Ignoring Simone's suppression, he leaves the room with a minister who was forced to escort him.
Neither Rubel's face, which I ran into where I opened the door, nor the voice that stuffs him when Uni is slow, into consciousness, I head to the bathroom.
... When I got there, it was a sea of blood in front of the bathroom.
Iron smell and raw meat smell. It is a stench that has been unwillingly accustomed to because of those lunatics.
There are three bodies rolling. From the wound, which was beautifully scratched, the cause of death can also be known as stabbing or slaughtering in the amateur. They're all men, and the outfit is like a housekeeper. Definitely not someone from Shirai who was incited by activists, etc.
And I wasn't even a servant of this mansion.
But Linus looks familiar in the face of the body.
……
Face to face, examine the body. It was supposed to be where the minister should be represented, but he was able to pull back and that seemed annoying too.
Eventually, I find something like a pendant that I used to sneak in my nose.
This, too, looked familiar. I was shown that wedding night the morning it dawned when we were hooked up.
Courtesy for communications. It is an item to enable those who have not finished the magic of reading or do not even possess magic. Moreover, it is an incoming product made of Zanktogaren and uses a crystal in the nucleus that is more pure than the common one, whether it is an idea to increase the call distance.
Linus silently activated the courtesy and waited for a response.
A little while later,
"What's up? Did something unforeseen happen?
As expected, the voice of a squeamish old man returns.
- Yahari. Is it still the work this guy did on his own?
The handles tense and the courtesy makes a stinging noise.
"... Yep. Not at all. Unexpected and unexpected."
Leaking a trembling voice out of anger, there were breathtaking signs across the call.
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