I Have A Damn Family Again - Chapter 89

Chapter 89: The Disgrace of Shatrain (3)

"Which one of you dared to attack a knight of Count Modric?!"

The gold coin he'd flicked so carelessly.
And the silver coin that had struck his own head, landing on the ground with a mocking clink.

The insult, the audacity of calling it a "farewell gift," enraged him.

But the moment he stood, a blade pressed against his throat, cold and unforgiving.

He needed to assess the situation, to identify his attacker.

However, with the sun at his back, the figure before him was shrouded in shadow.

"Who are you? A knight from another house?!"
"A knight from another house... Well, you're not wrong."

Of course not. There were no knights residing within the wretched village of Lusmire.

"Hmph. Then be on your way. What gives you the right to interfere? Hmm?"
"You were the one who initiated this conflict."
"What are you talking about?"
"I distinctly remember you mocking the Lusmire villagers and throwing coins at them."

What a strange fellow. Tuspel, a knight serving Count Modric, furrowed his brow, annoyance flaring within him.

"Look, this doesn't concern you. This is a matter within our jurisdiction. Who are you to interfere?"
"Exactly! We're simply preventing them from trespassing!"
"We're knights serving Count Modric. How dare you accuse us of wrongdoing for protecting our territory from these Lusmire scum?"

His fellow knights, emboldened by his defiance, chimed in, their voices a chorus of indignation. Tuspel, his confidence growing, pressed on.

"Furthermore, your actions could spark a conflict between our houses. Do you, a mere knight, intend to cause trouble for your superiors?"
"..."
"Apologize, and we might let this slide. At least show some respect for our honor."

He wouldn't be satisfied with a simple apology for the money thrown back at him, mirroring the insult he'd inflicted upon the villagers.

This stranger had dared to kick him, to draw his sword and threaten him.

And then, what was that? A "farewell gift?"

His pride, his sense of authority, had been trampled upon. He demanded an apology, a display of subservience. Otherwise, he'd report this incident to their respective houses, painting himself as the victim.

Of course, he'd also make sure to embellish the story, adding a few choice insults, ensuring this arrogant knight faced the consequences of his actions.

"Done rambling?"
"...What?"

-Thud!

"Gah?!"
"H-Hey! Are you insane?"
"Are you deaf?!"

The stranger, his expression cold and unyielding, pressed his foot against Tuspel's chest, pinning him to the ground. He tightened his grip on the sword, the blade still resting against Tuspel's throat.

"I'll give you three valid reasons why I have the right to punish you."

Three fingers, extended, ticked off his justifications.

"Firstly, collecting tolls is sufficient when it comes to passage through your territory. You mocked their plight, ignoring their desperate pleas for help."

One finger, folded down.

"Secondly, you assaulted residents of my territory. I have every right to retaliate."

Another finger, folded down.

"Lastly, as of today, the Lusmire territory is under my jurisdiction, officially recognized by the Imperial seal. Therefore, I am authorized to punish you.”

The final finger, folded down.

Three reasons, delivered with chilling clarity, his blade unwavering, his intent clear.

“Who are you, the lord of this land? Hmph. Ridiculous! Fine, if you insist on escalating this situation, I’ll make sure your house hears about this!”

Tuspel, unable to endure further humiliation, drew his sword, his body springing back with a surge of adrenaline. He swung his blade, aiming for the stranger’s exposed side.

But his sword, meeting only air, flew from his grasp, landing several feet away with a dull thud.

“You… You think you can get away with this?! A mere knight, instigating a conflict between our houses, threatening us with violence?!”
“This is a blatant crime! Do you wish to be stripped of your knighthood?!”
“It’s not a crime. Didn’t I just explain? I have the right to punish you.”
“W-What?”

This was preposterous. This stranger, holding a blade to the throat of a knight from another house, claiming the authority to mete out punishment, threatening violence without a shred of remorse…

Surely, this was a crime.

But this man, his demeanor unwavering, exuded an aura of confidence, his actions suggesting he truly believed his words.

Doubt, a seed of uncertainty, sprouted within their minds.

‘Could it be… He’s telling the truth?’
‘This stranger… is the one backing Lusmire?’
‘He has the authority to punish us?’

Their doubts were quickly shattered as he presented a document, its seal gleaming in the fading light.

“I, Carsein Bagrand, as the acting lord of Lusmire, have the authority to punish you. This document, bearing the Imperial seal, serves as proof.”

His words, a hammer blow to their hearts, drained the color from their faces.

***

‘C-Carsein Bagrand…!’
‘Those villagers were telling the truth about House Bagrand?!’
‘And with the Imperial seal… We have no way out…’

They’d initially dismissed the mention of Carsein Bagrand, his name synonymous with recklessness and incompetence. But now, staring at his dark blue hair, those pale blue eyes, they couldn’t deny the truth.

This was Carsein Bagrand.

And that document, a testament to his authority, was genuine.

This situation, this utter mess of their own making…

They’d obstructed the passage of Lusmire villagers, barring them from seeking medical help. They’d resorted to violence, mocking their plight, adding insult to injury.

And they’d laughed off the suggestion that Carsein Bagrand, the very person they’d ridiculed, was the one backing them.

A dead end. Punishment at Carsein's hands, unavoidable.

But there might be a way out, a slim chance of escaping the full weight of his wrath.

‘Word hasn't reached Count Modric yet!’

Tuspel, clinging to that sliver of hope, felt a surge of relief.

If their actions had reached the count’s ears, they’d be truly doomed. But Carsein had made it clear; he intended to punish them himself, without involving their superiors.

The humiliation of being punished by a former commoner, someone they'd always considered beneath them, stung, but it also offered a glimmer of hope. They could contain the damage, prevent this incident from escalating into a full-blown conflict between their houses.

And then, he noticed something, a small detail that offered a potential escape route.

The document, the official decree granting him authority over Lusmire, didn't bear the name of House Bagrand. It was issued solely in Carsein's name.

It was his personal jurisdiction.

The solution was simple. All they had to do was deceive Carsein, manipulate this naive young man, exploit his lack of experience.

They could wriggle out of this, avoid any lasting consequences.

‘Yes, he has no idea what truly transpired…’

Tuspel, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple, swiftly changed tactics.

“We understand that Young Master Carsein is now the acting lord of Lusmire. However, our actions don’t warrant such severe punishment. Surely, there’s room for leniency.”

His fellow knights, quickly grasping his intentions, chimed in, their voices a chorus of desperate pleas.

“Exactly! There are mitigating circumstances!”
“We were simply attempting to collect tolls. Lusmire is notoriously impoverished. Do you honestly believe those… individuals… possess any valuables?”
“They’ve been using this road for years, and they’ve never paid a single toll. Our concerns about potential theft weren’t unfounded.”

Another point in their favor: Carsein hadn’t questioned their right to collect tolls. And those villagers had never paid a single coin.

“The Lusmire villagers are… well-known for their poverty. Did you truly believe they’d be able to afford tolls?”

They hadn’t even bothered to demand payment, assuming those impoverished villagers wouldn’t have a single copper to their name. Their inaction, their lack of effort to collect tolls, was now being presented as a form of compassion, a testament to their understanding of the villagers' plight.

And then, a shift in focus, a subtle attempt to redirect the conversation.

“However, there are concerns regarding their activities. Are you aware that their poverty has made them prime suspects in several theft cases in neighboring territories?”
“A village within Count Modric’s domain was recently targeted by thieves. They were incredibly swift, managing to evade capture.”
“Currently, the Lusmire villagers are the prime suspects. Several individuals have expressed their concerns, demanding a thorough investigation.”

Lusmire’s poverty, a convenient scapegoat, painted them as criminals, shifting the blame, diverting attention away from their own actions.

This new narrative, this carefully crafted web of lies, might just be enough to sway Carsein, to cloud his judgment.

“That’s absurd…!”

Kiyan, unable to contain his outrage, attempted to intervene, his voice trembling with indignation.

Lusmire’s poverty stemmed from the constant threat of wild beasts descending from Mount Waglu, from the relentless cycle of raids and pillaging they were subjected to.

They, the victims, the ones who understood the pain of loss and hardship, would never resort to theft.

He had to speak up, to defend his people, to ensure Carsein wasn’t misled by these insidious lies.

But before he could utter a single word, a flash of steel, a spray of blood, and a lock of hair, severed, fell gracefully to the ground.

"Hmm. That's more fitting, don't you think?"

Carsein, his sword dripping crimson, sheathed it with a casual air, his gaze fixed on the fallen knight, his hair now a mangled mess.

His previous hairstyle had been more befitting a bandit than a knight.

"W-What have you done…!"
"What have I done? I simply gave you a makeover that suits your profession."
"W-What are you talking about?!"
"How dare you call us bandits!"

Carsein, his expression impassive, addressed their indignant cries.

"Why bother denying it? You've been plundering Lusmire for years.”
"W-What?”
“Those knights… they raided our village?”
“Yes. You might not have realized it, but these are the bandits who’ve been terrorizing your village.”

The boys stared at him, their eyes wide with disbelief.

The raids, a constant threat, disrupting their lives, stealing their meager possessions. Those knights, summoned for protection, would always arrive late, their timing suspiciously convenient.

They'd tried to catch the culprits, but it was a futile endeavor. Lusmire, lacking any real power or influence, had no choice but to rely on Count Modric's knights, the only force capable of responding quickly enough.

And now, to learn that those very knights, the ones they'd relied on for protection, were the ones responsible…

Rage, a burning ember, ignited within their hearts.

The knights, their voices laced with panic, attempted to defend themselves.

“T-That’s absurd! You’re twisting the facts! You know how treacherous the terrain is around Lusmire! It takes time to reach your village!”

But their words, their frantic denials, fell on deaf ears. Doubt had taken root.

“You were always late. And on several occasions, you weren’t even present. And isn’t it strange how your absence always coincided with the timing of the raids?”
“How did you…”
“I reviewed the patrol reports for the past two years. There was a recurring pattern. Whenever a raid occurred, you were either delayed or completely absent. The records are quite clear.”

Carsein, his voice a calm, measured tone, challenged their explanation.

Had they ever encountered the bandits while on patrol?

The boys knew the answer. They’d never seen the knights and the bandits together.

“Could it be… Could they actually be…!”

And then, Carsein delivered the final blow, shattering their remaining defenses.

“And let's not forget, Lusmire receives no protection from any neighboring house. Which means you could easily masquerade as bandits, knowing those villagers had no other choice but to rely on you for help. You knew they wouldn’t dare reveal your true identities, wouldn't expose the wound you inflicted on his side while he was vulnerable.”

-Swish!

Two swift strokes of his sword, slicing through their clothing, revealed a scar on Tuspel's side, a jagged mark left by Kiyan's broken stake during a previous raid.

"Well, what's your excuse now, Bandit Knight?”

As Carsein's mocking laughter echoed through the air, the other two knights, their faces twisted in rage, drew their swords.

-Shing!

“You’ve brought this upon yourself!”
“This is the price you pay for your arrogance!”

Two blades, flashing in the fading light, descended upon Carsein.

A spray of blood, a crimson mist, filled the air.

And moments later, they lay on the ground, their limbs severed, their reign of terror over. They were no longer knights, nor were they bandits. They were nothing.

***

Despite facing three opponents, Carsein remained unshakable, his movements fluid and precise, his sword a blur of deadly grace.

Fear, a cold knot in their stomachs, had initially gripped the boys, but as they watched Carsein effortlessly dismantle their tormentors, their apprehension melted away, replaced by a sense of awe.

Those knights, those bandits, were no match for him. They lay on the ground, defeated, their reign of terror over.

Carsein, wiping the blood from his blade, sheathed it with a practiced air, then turned to face them.

“They’re still alive. But I’ve taken their weapons, their ability to inflict further harm. The punishment, however, is yours to decide.”
“Y-Yes…”

The boys, their gazes fixated on their new lord, watched in silence as he sheathed his sword.

“Cough… cough!”

A harsh, rattling cough broke the silence, a sound that sent a wave of panic through them. Dienna, her breathing labored, coughed up blood, the crimson stain spreading across her lips.

“D-Dienna!”
“Kiyan, let’s go! We have to hurry!”
“R-Right!”

The knights, their crimes exposed, their reign of terror over, would face justice. But that was a matter for another day.

They had a more pressing concern: getting Dienna to a healer, before it was too late.

“Thank you, sir! But we’re… We’re in a hurry, and we don’t have time to express our gratitude properly!"
“We’re truly sorry, Lord… Please…!”
“Follow me.”

Carsein, cutting off Melic’s frantic apology, issued a new command.

“You won’t reach a healer in time on foot. And there’s no guarantee they’ll be available. We’ll take my carriage.”
“Y-Your carriage?!”
“Sir, we can’t afford…!”
“I’m offering you a ride in the Bagrand carriage.”

His words, a declaration that defied all expectations, stunned them into silence.

A ride in the carriage of a noble house? A privilege reserved for servants, let alone common villagers…

But…

“What are you waiting for? Get in.”
“…”

He gestured towards his carriage, his demeanor casual, as if offering a simple courtesy.

They hesitated for a moment, their minds still reeling, before scrambling inside, urged on by Carsein’s impatient gaze.

Once they were settled, Carsein fell silent, his gaze drifting towards the window, lost in thought as the scenery blurred past. He’d only spoken once, offering a handkerchief, his voice a quiet murmur, instructing them to wipe Dienna's mouth.

‘This is the man… who’s going to protect our village, our territory?’

Kiyan, watching him, felt a surge of hope, a certainty that Lusmire’s days of suffering were finally over.