Chapter 216: Alexander (10)

“What a crazy bastard.”

A single letter arrived at the Flancia mansion, and cheers echoed from the square. A bloodbath and a massive white trail. Screams and explosions. All the news unfolding before their eyes made the nobles of the Flancia family tremble.

“Damn! You crazy bastard!”

The head of the Flancia mansion shouted towards the silhouette of the hero visible in the distance. He wished he could personally sever the hero’s head if he had the chance. He knew that Hero Wolf’s reign wouldn’t last long. But he never imagined it would crumble like this.

If someone had told them this story last year, who would have believed it?

Hero Wolf massacred civilians in the capital, and Saint Alexander was minced like hamburger dough at the Ithaca Harvest Festival. People set fire to churches, beat high priests to death, and threw stones at any noble who sided with the hero, driving public sentiment to its absolute worst.

If he had heard this story back then, the head of the Flancia mansion himself would have laughed at the prophet. And then he would have cut off their head and mocked them, loudly reciting their nonsense. But now that things had turned out this way, the head of the Flancia mansion inwardly cursed the prophets for not foreseeing such a situation.

“He’s coming on a white horse? Huh? Spouting all those useless prophecies! Why wasn’t there a single one predicting that the hero would split the city in half and slaughter people! Huh?!”

Shadows deepened on the nobles’ faces. This wasn’t confined to just the Flancia family. After the incident where the hero massacred protesters in the heart of the capital spread, the prevailing opinion among nobles was now ‘Hero Wolf is finished’.

But precisely when would he fall?

Just how long should they continue to side with the hero, and at what point should they slip away? Saint Alexander was dead, and the church was returning to its normal flow. However, Ernrich Lumia, the current linchpin of the church, was by no means someone who could defeat Hero Wolf. It was said that taking down Saint Alexander alone required immense sacrifice; could she possibly kill Wolf?

In the capital, no one strong enough or power-hungry enough to defeat Wolf had emerged. The quick-witted knew they would be instantly killed by Wolf if they made a move now, and the clueless were annihilated along with their mansions the moment they rebelled.

Overwhelming violence. Wolf, who had forcefully seized power, had only that means at his disposal, and knowing this, he wielded his sword more actively than anyone.

A regime that reaches the peak of violence is bound to fall.

But who, exactly, was going to bring down that regime?

The head of the Flancia mansion felt like he was holding a ticking time bomb without a second hand. He heard the endless tick-tock of the clock’s hands, but there was no sign of it exploding – an unsettling bomb.

The wise would throw the bomb into the water and prepare to flee far away, but the head of the Flancia mansion couldn’t even see a place to escape right before his eyes.

Several days passed. Each day felt suffocating.

A strange game of cat-and-mouse was in full swing in the capital. The rules were simple: Who would betray first? In what manner would someone strike a blow against Wolf and build their power? Who would wield the knife aiming for the center of power?

The kingdom was slowly tilting. In times like these, impatient individuals were bound to jump out first, shedding the most blood and paving the way.

The Flancia family would simply wait for an opportunity.

“My Lord.”

“What is it?”

Amidst the silence, a servant called out the head’s name. The head reacted sensitively to the voice that had called him after days. Hearing his voice, the servant flinched and said,

“Th-that is… a guest has arrived at the mansion.”

“A guest?”

The head frowned and gestured, asking for the guest’s name. The servant bowed deeply and said,

“It-it’s Lady Isabel Flancia. She says she has something urgent to discuss…!”

“Isabel?”

Isabel Flancia. The head frowned at the news that the troublemaker managing the vineyard had suddenly come up to the capital. Saint Alexander was dead, and Hero Wolf was slaughtering people in the capital. Isabel Flancia was a woman with no particular use, but she wasn’t clueless. Her sudden arrival in the capital at this time must have a reason.

“Tell her to come in for now. See why she’s here. I suppose I’ll have to hear her out.”

The head calmed his emotions and waved his hand. The servant rushed out the door as if moved by telekinesis.

*******

“Isabel. It’s quite something for you to come visit like this.”

The head said this and placed his hand on the table. Two reliable guards, prepared just in case, growled like angry dogs, looking down at Isabel Flancia. Isabel Flancia wore a thin hood, and her clothes were light, as if for an outing. Beside her was an attendant wearing a hat pulled low; even under the black clothes, hints of pale skin and a slender figure could be seen.

The head of Flancia knew the attendant was a woman and scoffed at Isabel’s carelessness.

“It’s nice to see your face after so long. Father. Have you been well?”

Isabel’s face retained the composure of a winner. Did she think she couldn’t be touched after that one time she was thoroughly beaten? Even though she’s likely here with an important proposal, the fact that she relies on such a frail woman is absurd.

“Yes, Isabel. What brings you all the way here?”

The head hid his smirk and asked her the main point. Isabel Flancia gave a wry smile seeing that he didn’t even respond to her greeting.

“It’s nothing too important, but I came hoping to ease your worries a bit, Father.”

“Worries, huh? Wine is the best for easing worries. So, did you bring some top-shelf wine as a gift?”

The head looked straight at Isabel’s face and asked. Isabel shook her head and asked:

“Father, are you not feeling anxious about the rapidly changing political climate?”

“…..You don’t need to know.”

The head frowned. The abruptness of her question bothered him more than expected. He disliked how a woman who had nothing going for her besides her looks within the family suddenly returned successful and acted like a detached sage.

“I hear Saint Alexander was killed by a sword, and Hero Wolf is killing people in the capital. Such terrible rumors are reaching even the small village where I live.”

“Get to the point. I’m not interested in what rumors are heard in your village.”

The head of Flancia disliked Isabel’s roundabout way of speaking, avoiding the main issue. As always, he spoke in a coercive tone. But Isabel didn’t tremble or flinch as he expected.

He noticed during their last meeting too; she faced him with a much calmer, noblewoman-like demeanor than before.

“Father, aren’t you contemplating which side to stand on?”

And she had a weighty matter that made the head of Flancia’s shoulders twitch.

“….You speak as if you can solve that problem.”

The head was surprised but tried hard to maintain his composure. This was a woman abandoned by the Flancia family, who almost got divorced again. Such a woman wouldn’t offer a proposal out of pure goodwill, so he shouldn’t jump at it.

“Yes. That’s right. Aren’t you ultimately seeking connections to save the family when Hero Wolf falls?”

“You’re not suggesting I hide away on your vineyard, are you?”

Despite the continued provocation, Isabel maintained a smiling expression. She tilted her head and said:

“Father. If you join hands with ‘us’, I will help you preserve the family.”

And the ‘us’ she spoke of clearly didn’t mean the Flancia family. The head asked:

“‘Us’?”

“Yes. ‘Us’. I am meeting you not as a vineyard owner, but as an envoy for a certain faction.”

The head didn’t believe her. Her sudden claim to be an envoy for a faction, after being quiet until now, and offering to create connections for them, felt like sheer delusion.

“How terrifying. So, what kind of faction is it? An army you’ve made out of your servants? Or an assassination squad made from women picking grapes?”

Isabel didn’t answer. She reached into her pouch, and the guards jumped forward nervously. At the same time, the attendant beside Isabel took a strong step forward and glared.

Isabel ignored the trembling head and tossed the pouch to him.

Sliding across the smooth glass desk, the cloth pouch reached the head. A hard texture could be felt from it.

“What is this?”

The guard, after the head handed him the pouch, distanced himself from the head and opened the pouch. Seeing the contents, he frowned and said:

“It’s a brooch. Quite ornate.”

“A brooch?”

Isabel looked straight at the head and said:

“It’s the brooch Saint Alexander used to wear.”

The head and the guards stiffened at her words. The head, startled, took the brooch himself to examine it.

“What the…!”

Genuine. The word ‘genuine’ dropped into his mind. It was clearly the brooch he’d seen Alexander wear, now rolling around in the pouch engraved with the word ‘Saint’. There were traces of blood here and there, and it even gave off a faint, unpleasant smell.

Isabel said:

“I believe it explains what kind of place ‘we’ are. And, when we succeed, how we will save your family has also been explained, I believe.”

The head clutched his head and glanced sideways at Isabel. Just one attendant and a frail woman. She must think that this declaration alone will surprise him into agreeing to the negotiation.

However, the head was someone who could ensure the family’s survival through dirty deeds if necessary. If Isabel was truly behind Alexander’s assassination, it would be easier to torture her here for information. She only had an attendant. This might be the best chance to seize her and take the initiative. He could then report the headquarters they found to Wolf and wipe them out.

A rebellion loses its power once its focal point is lost. If he helped Wolf get revenge, he could become closer to Wolf and buy time. Soon, the Flancia family might even seize the kingdom by pushing Wolf aside when he showed weakness.

Thinking thus, the head raised his hand. The two guards, as if waiting, prepared to draw their weapons.

And.

A gust of wind blew.

The attendant beside Isabel vanished. Despite reaching forward, his guards didn’t attack. Looking back, the guards lay on the floor as cold corpses, and the delicate-looking attendant was stretching.

“Huh?”

Isabel’s voice was heard.

“Father. I believe this is a good offer for you too.”

Isabel smiled as if encouraging him to continue.