Chapter 228: It’s Time for Me to Take Everything. (2)

Rustle!

Caleb and the gray-cloaked assassins were the first to leap into action.

"Waaaah!"

Following them, Vulcan and his bandits charged in, with the rest of the forces quickly joining the fray.

Boom!

Though caught off guard by the sudden assault, the guard captain drew his sword and shouted loudly.

"Emergency! We're under attack! Call for reinforcements! Young Lady Amelia has launched a rebellion!"

The sharp sound of whistles rang out from all directions. The guards stationed at the castle gate immediately prepared for battle and tried to respond to the attack.

"Reinforcements will arrive soon! Hold your ground and stop the enemies!"

The guard captain shouted at the top of his lungs, urging his soldiers to fight.

The guards protecting the castle numbered in the hundreds, befitting a great estate. Confident in their numbers, they believed they could either repel the attackers or hold out until reinforcements arrived.

But the attackers were far from ordinary. Those at the vanguard were particularly skilled, surpassing even most upper-tier knights.

Caleb's speed was unmatched, and every swing of Vulcan's massive steel club sent multiple soldiers flying.

Boom! Boom!

"Aaaargh!"

"Why aren't the reinforcements coming?!"

"Hold them! Don't let them into the castle!"

The guards were slaughtered in an instant, unable to put up much resistance. The disparity in power was overwhelming.

The guard captain staggered backward, mumbling in disbelief.

"What, what are they? How did this happen? Who allowed such monsters to gather here?!"

No reinforcements came. The local security forces showed no movement. There wasn't even time to call for the nearby territorial defense army.

The attackers' overwhelming strength left no room for retreat or escape. Despite their numbers, the guards were being decimated.

What started as a seemingly even fight quickly turned into a massacre.

Amelia stood behind the battlefield, orchestrating everything.

The guard captain, surveying the chaos, looked at her with an expression of utter disbelief.

"H-how can she command like this…"

Every time she gestured, someone blew a whistle, and the attackers' positions and formations shifted with perfect precision.

The guards were surrounded and killed before they could even understand what was happening.

This was no mere raid. The enemy was conducting a full-scale war, and the guards had made the mistake of thinking they could fend them off without preparation.

Lost in shock, the guard captain didn't notice Bernaph approaching. The next moment, Bernaph's sword pierced his throat.

With that, the last of the guards fell, leaving none alive.

It was a flawless victory. Yet Amelia's expression remained unchanged, as if this was only to be expected.

Bernaph casually shook the blood from his sword and addressed Amelia.

"Shall we proceed?"

Meow.

Bastet raised its head and tail high as it entered the castle ahead of Amelia.

Bernaph twitched his lips as he watched the cat.

'I swear, one day I'll get rid of that thing.'

When the blood-soaked troops suddenly appeared inside the castle, the staff scattered in terror, fleeing in all directions.

Passing through a long, eerily silent hallway, the attackers reached the heavy doors of the banquet hall.

Creeeeak…

As the doors opened, all eyes in the banquet hall turned toward them.

Meow.

The sight of Bastet elegantly entering the banquet hall brought smiles to the attendees' faces. But those smiles froze when Amelia and her bloodstained subordinates followed.

The force that entered was enough to slaughter everyone in the room. Their bloodied appearance made it clear—they had broken through the guards and forced their way in.

The music in the banquet hall stopped, and an oppressive silence fell.

A handsome middle-aged man glared at Amelia, his lips twisting into a crooked smile as he spoke.

"What is the meaning of this, Amelia?"

Amelia responded with a captivating smile of her own.

"I've come to claim my title, Father."

The middle-aged man was none other than Count Rayfold, the great lord of the North. He burst into laughter at Amelia's words.

"Hahaha! So you've finally gone mad? You, a woman, not even an heir, claiming a title? And by force?"

The sons of Count Rayfold laughed along with him.

"Looks like all that reading in her room has driven her insane."

"We should've married her off sooner. Why did we ever break off her engagement with Count Fenris? Such poor judgment."

"Brother, as if she would've gone willingly! Didn't she drag her feet on that engagement until we forced her into it? And now she's too old for anyone to want her. Hahaha!"

The room erupted in laughter, mocking Amelia. Even with only a small number of guards present, they showed no fear.

Count Rayfold stopped laughing and looked over the assailants.

"That gray rat who's been stirring up trouble in this estate. I let you live because you paid your taxes well enough, but I should've killed you long ago."

Caleb didn't so much as twitch, keeping his arms crossed and his expression cold.

"There's that infamous bandit we thought dead."

"Hahaha! The young lady secretly helped me escape!" Vulcan roared with laughter, resting his massive steel club on his shoulder.

"And isn't that Conrad, the rising star of the Actium Merchant Guild? I didn't expect you to side with them."

Conrad politely placed a hand over his chest and bowed.

Count Rayfold sneered and continued.

"A bunch of worthless fools, following a madwoman into a banquet. If you wanted scraps, you should've come to me instead."

Amelia chuckled softly at his reaction.

"Hmm, it seems you've made some preparations?"

Such composure could only mean he had something up his sleeve. In this situation, he should've been trembling and begging for his life.

Count Rayfold raised a hand, a smirk on his lips.

Thud! Thud!

The emergency doors to the banquet hall opened, and a contingent of soldiers poured in, surrounding the attackers.

All of them were armed with powerful crossbows, ready to fire at any moment.

If they launched an attack, even the attackers would suffer significant casualties.

Amelia nodded as she surveyed the surrounding soldiers.

"You've certainly prepared well. How did you know?"

"Haha, do you think holding power is easy? A ruler must always doubt and scrutinize their surroundings. I keep this much on standby at all times. I've just added a few more recently, given the unsettling rumors about my children."

Amelia smirked at his words. Typical of her father—paranoid and focused solely on his safety.

His sons were likely scheming for his position as well, fueling his compulsive preparations.

Judging by the calmness of those around him, it seemed someone had tipped him off. Indeed, long years on the throne had honed his instincts.

As Amelia fell silent, Count Rayfold waved his hand dismissively.

"Turn them into pincushions. Even if she's my daughter, I can't let her live if she's come for my position. I've got plenty of daughters to marry off anyway."

But the knights who had brought the soldiers didn't move. They simply stood there, expressionless.

Count Rayfold, thinking they hadn't heard him, urged them again.

"What are you waiting for? Kill her already!"

He showed not a hint of hesitation about ordering his daughter's death. Amelia laughed as she spoke.

"Turn around."

Clank! Clank! Clank!

At her command, the soldiers raised their crossbows and pointed them at Count Rayfold instead.

"W-what! What is this madness?!"

Panic spread through the banquet hall. If the crossbows fired, the nobles would be riddled with bolts.

One of the knights bowed slightly toward Amelia and said.

"Apologies, my lady. We couldn't contact you in time."

"It's fine. I expected this. My father's always been like this."

"Thank you."

Amelia had spent years persuading and coercing key figures in the estate. If persuasion failed, she used hostages to force compliance.

Most of the castle's military and commanders had already sworn allegiance to her.

Even the estate's court mage and other mages had been neutralized. They'd been bribed or threatened into staying out of the conflict and were waiting on standby.

As the situation turned, Count Rayfold roared with fury.

"Traitors! What are you doing? Kill her! Kill her now!"

But his tantrum was pointless. Every armed soldier in the room belonged to Amelia.

All that remained were the escort knights accompanying the nobles. With only minimal numbers present, they couldn't hope to match her forces.

Watching Count Rayfold rage and his sons cower in fear, Amelia smiled.

"Now your faces are worth looking at."

The tide had turned in her favor. But one person in the room still posed a potential threat.

"Ahem, young lady, this prank of yours has gone too far."

A plump, middle-aged man stepped forward. His untrained physique made it clear he wasn't one for combat.

But those who knew his identity would never underestimate him.

He was Jürgen, the commander of Rayfold knight order, renowned as the "North's Finest Sword."

Jürgen slowly unsheathed his sword and spoke.

"If you withdraw now, I'll speak to the lord and ensure your life is spared."

Whoosh!

As he spoke, an overwhelming aura radiated from him. He was indeed worthy of his title.

"Jürgen! Quickly! Get me out of here! I'll bring the army and kill them all!"

Count Rayfold's eyes gleamed with hope. As long as he survived, it didn't matter if everyone else perished. Children could always be sired again.

Jürgen nodded slightly and spoke to the escort knights around him.

"Form a combat formation. I will escort the lord out of here."

The escort knights gathered around Jürgen, forming a protective formation. Their numbers were few, but they were determined to risk their lives to help the Count escape.

The others wore expressions of despair. If a battle broke out, it was clear they stood little chance of survival.

As Jürgen stepped forward, Bernaph, who had been standing beside Amelia, took a step forward and spoke.

"Before you leave, would you spar with me?"

"And you are…?"

"Bernaph."

"Ah, yes. I remember now. Aren't you the one who was chosen as the young lady's escort knight just because you look good on the outside?"

Jürgen chuckled, unable to hold back his amusement.

Bernaph's reputation in Rayfold was abysmal. Most considered him a superficial choice, selected for his appearance rather than his skills.

He hadn't even been officially knighted, and he spent most of his time aimlessly hanging around Amelia, earning the nickname "the halfwit the lady picked up."

And now, that very man was challenging Jürgen, the commander of the knights and the "North's Finest Sword."

No knight could tolerate such a provocation.

Jürgen stepped forward with measured confidence and spoke.

"Very well. I have enough time to kill someone like you before leaving. Draw your sword."

His tone exuded the composure of a seasoned warrior. Bernaph smirked, placed a hand on his sword's hilt, and slowly bent his waist, twisting his body slightly.

Bernaph's left foot turned just a bit more, lowering his posture further into a stance that clearly signaled he was about to draw his sword.

Jürgen, in his arrogance, waited for Bernaph to draw.

"What's taking so long? Draw already! And what's with that strange stance?"

"Here I come."

"What?"

Clink.

Flash!

With the faint sound of friction as the sword left its sheath, a sharp glint of light flashed.

"Ugh!"

Jürgen instinctively leaped backward, gritting his teeth. Blood spurted from a long gash across his chest.

Had he reacted even a moment later, his head would have been severed.

Bernaph clicked his tongue as he observed Jürgen.

"Ha, as expected of the North's Finest Sword. I used my best move from the start."

Meow!

Bastet meowed, as if scolding Bernaph for not finishing the job. Bernaph thought to himself.

'I swear, I'll get rid of that damn cat someday.'

Jürgen, filled with fury, ground his teeth. To be wounded by someone barely worth calling a knight was a humiliating insult.

On closer inspection, Bernaph's sword was unusual. It was single-edged, with a slightly curved blade designed for smooth drawing and slashing.

"You dare rely on cheap tricks!"

Clang!

Jürgen lunged like a bolt of lightning, but Bernaph parried his attack with his sword. The two immediately began exchanging blows at a breathtaking speed.

Boom! Boom!

The clash of their mana-infused attacks sent shockwaves across the room, cracking the floor. Those unable to withstand the impact stumbled backward.

Boom! Boom!

The duel between Bernaph and Jürgen appeared evenly matched. Everyone in the banquet hall watched in astonishment.

No one had imagined that Bernaph, known as a mere playboy, had such skill hidden.

However, Bernaph bit his lip, frowning.

'So this is why they call him the North's Finest Sword. I thought it would be easy, but he's tougher than I expected. And to think he barely trains, lazes around, and even has a belly!'

For someone so young to hold his ground against Jürgen was remarkable, but Bernaph was frustrated. He needed to end this quickly, but his opponent's prowess made that impossible.

Indeed, Jürgen's years of experience weren't something easily overcome.

If this continued, the fight would devolve into a brawl.

Watching the battle with a bored expression, Amelia slowly spoke.

"I think I've given you enough of a chance. You insisted on trying, so I allowed it, but this is taking too long."

She didn't like wasting time unnecessarily. Efficiency was paramount.

Having given Bernaph a fair opportunity, there was no need to wait any longer.

The reason Bernaph had insisted on facing Jürgen alone was obvious—to impress Amelia.

Amelia subtly raised her hand, prompting Caleb to pull out a sword from his cloak. It was a "sword breaker," a blade with deep serrated notches along one side.

Conrad drew the rapier at his waist, while Vulcan swung his massive steel club onto his shoulder, spinning it menacingly.

With a flick of Amelia's fingers, she gestured toward Jürgen.

"Finish him."

The three men charged at Jürgen.

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