Chapter 17: The Frame-Up
Le Mans in early winter was serene and tranquil, imbued with a gentle warmth. The old trees in the town shivered in the cold wind, shedding withered yellow leaves from time to time. The mountain folk, having toiled all year, entered their winter rest period. Hunters occasionally ventured into the mountains to catch game, adding some richness to the meals for their wives and children. These mountain people were simple and steadfast, yet hardened into toughness by their harsh living conditions.
The warm winter sun shone down on the crowd gathered in the town square. Old Mayor Ian was delivering an impassioned speech. A simple amplification spell allowed the aged and frail mayor to project his voice clearly to every ear. Ian had unusually donned his mage robes. The last time he wore them was thirty years ago, when he was still a hot-blooded adventurer.
"Gentlemen! I have served as Mayor of Le Mans for twenty years. In all these years, the peace of our small town has never been broken. We labor hard for our daily bread, building warm houses with our own hands, cherishing our wives, and raising our children. We fight floods, droughts, and magical beasts! The scars on our bodies are the marks of these struggles, the pride of men! We have never flinched before anything that threatens our wives and children, because we are guarding our ancestral homeland, because we are the proud sons of the mountain!"
A round of applause erupted. Ian paused, then continued, "But now this peace is about to be shattered. Several despicable, vicious nobles claim to be the masters of this land. This land belongs to us, the sons of the mountain! And these nobles, they not only want to take our land, they want to snatch the last piece of bread from our hands, the last apple from our children's mouths! These nobles—" Ian paused, then raised his voice, "—demand each household pay five gold coins in tax per year!"
Exclamations of shock rose from the women, followed by angry shouts from the men. "Kill these nobles!" "Drive them back to the capital!" "No one will take our land!" A sharp child's voice cried out, "Screw these nobles' grandmothers!" A wave of laughter followed, the child's mother blushing crimson as she pinched her mischievous son fiercely.
Ian waited for the crowd to quiet down before continuing, "When I first arrived in this town, Bam could barely climb a tree." The tall blacksmith, wrapped in bandages and lying on a stretcher, gave an embarrassed chuckle. "But these nobles, as soon as they arrived, injured him! And they shamelessly harass the most beautiful girls in our town! Our wives, our daughters, have suffered unspeakable humiliation." Several young women began to sob.
"Not only that, everyone, look what they did to my son, Guta!"
Guta was helped out by two sturdy young men. The townspeople stared silently at his heavily bandaged ankle, his tattered clothes, his already festering face, and most shockingly, the laborer's brand seared onto his cheek. "How can these nobles just turn a commoner into a laborer?!" a young woman, Guta's lover, cried out, rushing forward. "Guta, what have they done to you?"
Ian raised his hands high. "Our very survival is no longer guaranteed!! Our wives and daughters are on the brink of defilement!! I, Ian, a Level 10 Mage, will challenge these nobles! This matter today will only end with death! And you," Ian's voice softened, "my children, you must go to the capital to petition, to the Church to petition! Just as the night must eventually pass, justice will replace evil! May the gods bless you!"
The atmosphere in the square reached a fever pitch.
The sound of urgent hoofbeats suddenly erupted as one hundred and fifty fierce "Dragon and Beauty" knights charged into the square, surrounding the crowd. Though the mountain folk were fierce, facing fully armed knights, they couldn't help but feel a chill. The noisy square fell silent instantly. The Dragon and Beauty knights parted, and the noble degenerates filed out on their tall horses.
Guta suddenly began shrieking hysterically, "It's him! It's that demon!" The once tall and sturdy man now resembled a mouse cornered by a cat, so terrified that he desperately wanted to bite back. Trembling, he stretched out a hand, pointing at the nobles. Everyone followed his finger and saw Rogue, clad in black armor, holding a battle-axe reversed on his horse, looking immensely pleased with himself.
A young man stepped forward from the crowd and shouted, "What crime did Guta commit, you demons, to torture him like this? Does being a noble mean you can just turn people into laborers? And the tax of five gold coins per family! Are you leaving us any way to live? You must give us an explanation today!"
"Right! We want an explanation!" The angry roars surged like a tide.
Rogue looked at Ian in the center of the square; the invisible clash of their gazes almost sparked.
Rogue smiled slightly, ignoring Ian, and turned to the agitated young man, asking calmly, "What did you say your tax was?"
"Five gold coins! This will make us—" The young man grew agitated again.
Rogue's sharp shout cut off the young man's complaint. "Tovler!"
Tovler immediately slipped out from among the townspeople, kneeling on the ground, trembling uncontrollably. "Tell me, what did I instruct you to inform Ian the town's tax would be?"
Tovler trembled even more violently, pressing himself against the ground, not daring to look up.
Rogue uttered a sharp command and launched a Magic Missile. Three missiles shot past Tovler's scalp, striking the ground around his head and forming a neat equilateral triangle. Ian was shocked by Rogue's precise magical control and grew deeply worried. Seeing Tovler's behavior, a chill rose from the depths of his heart.
"Tovler, the aim of the next Magic Missile won't be so poor!" Rogue said calmly.
Tovler raised his head, his face ashen. He glanced at Ian, then pressed his face back to the ground.
"Speak! What tax did I tell you to collect?"
"It's... it's..." Tovler's teeth chattered. Finally, he said in a small voice, "This year... it's one silver coin per household."
His words caused an uproar. The crowd instantly erupted into chaos. Questions, curses, accusations, and doubts interwove. Ian looked as if struck by lightning, his face turning deathly pale.
"And what did you tell Mayor Ian?" Rogue pressed relentlessly.
"Three silver coins! Sir, My Lord, Your Majesty, I was wrong! I shouldn't have been greedy for the silver! I swear I'll never dare again!" Tovler cried out loudly. Ian felt as if countless thunderclaps were exploding in his head. He trembled with rage, his lips quivering, unable to speak. The townspeople murmured amongst themselves, bewildered and uncertain, their gazes towards Ian now tinged with doubt and contempt. Franco and Lance exchanged a glance, inwardly admiring Tovler's acting skills.
Ian suddenly charged over, raising his staff to strike Tovler on the ground. "You vile worm! I... I'll kill you! I see it now, you're all in cahoots!" At that moment, a young woman also rushed out, shouting to the crowd, "Don't believe these damned nobles! They are demons! This Tovler is one of them! He deceived my father!"
Keevey urged his horse forward, let out a loud shout, his body radiating a milky white Battle Aura. He swung his lance, deflecting Ian's staff. Someone in the crowd who knew his stuff immediately yelled, "Sacred Battle Aura! He's a Sacred Knight!" Keevey was inwardly delighted that someone in this remote place recognized it. Distracted, his Battle Aura instantly vanished without a trace. Sacred Knights were loyal to their faith, upright and virtuous, valuing honor more than life itself. In short, they were practically the embodiment of justice.
With Keevey's display, someone called out, "Let's hear what the Knight has to say." The townspeople quieted down immediately. Ian and his daughter, however, showed unease. Although Sacred Knights were known for their justice, this man was clearly with Rogue, which was cause for concern.
Keevey's low voice rang out: "Mr. Ian, you claim you are innocent. But Mr. Rogue alleges that you amassed wealth by improper means. Furthermore, someone accuses you of harboring members of the Ice Silver Fox Mercenary Group in your residence. To prove your innocence, would you allow me to inspect your home?" Ian shot a fierce glare at Rogue and said, "I have lived a life of integrity! Let you search, why not? But if you find nothing, I will not let this matter rest!" With that, he turned and walked towards his house.
Behind him, Rogue said leisurely, "What a 'life of integrity'! I wonder who it was that colluded with the Snow Fox?" Ian shuddered but pretended not to hear.
A dense crowd surrounded the mayor's small house, sealing it tightly. Several townspeople were selected to enter the house with Keevey to search. Ian, his face livid, followed behind Keevey. The search of the entire house concluded when they reached Ian's bedroom on the second floor, having found nothing. Ian sneered repeatedly.
"Wait a moment!" Lance, who possessed rogue skills, walked up to a wall, feeling around. With a "click," a hidden door swung open. Ian sneered, "That's my magic laboratory. What could you possibly find there? If you find no evidence, don't blame me for being impolite!" As his words fell, Ian suddenly noticed an eerie silence in the room. He pushed past two townspeople in front of him and, at a glance, froze.
Beyond the hidden door lay piles of gold coins, dazzling gemstones, emerald green jadeite, and glowing magic armor, scattered throughout the room. The simple and honest mountain folk, who had never seen such wealth, stared wide-eyed. In this poor mountain town, even if the entire population saved every penny for a hundred years without eating or drinking, they could not have amassed such fortune. The source of Ian's wealth was clearly dubious. Remembering the five-gold-coin tax, the mountain folk felt they had suddenly seen the light.
Ian's body turned ice-cold in an instant, his staff clattering to the floor. He knew it was all over.
The mayor's daughter rushed out, embracing Ian and crying, "Father, tell them! Those aren't yours! Tell them someone is framing you!" The old mayor calmed down, tenderly stroking his daughter's hair. "Fayla, my child, whether this treasure is mine or not no longer matters. From now on, your father can no longer take care of you. Remember, child, do not seek revenge for me. These people are beyond your ability to deal with. Live as an ordinary person, be happy in this life." The girl cried even harder. The old mayor looked at each of the nobles one by one. Seeing their expressionless faces and righteous airs, he couldn't help but sigh. "Ah, I am old after all. Truly, 'Every new wave pushes at the one before'."
The old mayor sighed deeply and walked out of the small house under the contemptuous gazes of the townspeople. The nobles silently made way for him. The moment he stepped from the dim interior into the doorway, the blinding sunlight made Ian dizzy. The biting cold wind made him feel, for the first time, that his clothes were too thin. Winter had come exceptionally early to Le Mans this year.
The old mayor's figure appeared so aged and lonely. Remembering their twenty years together, the townspeople couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow. Fayla collapsed to the ground, watching her father's retreating back through tear-blurred eyes, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Her pleading gaze turned towards the nobles, but the usually lustful degenerates looked back with clear, indifferent eyes, passing by her without a second glance.
Ian walked to an open space, turned around, and asked calmly, "Who will grant this old man the honor of dying in a proper duel? Or must the old man take his own life?" The nobles looked at each other, remaining silent. Although none of the present noble degenerates had reached Level 10 in strength, any one of them could almost certainly defeat a traditional mage like Ian—albeit by less than honorable means. Finally, Rogue stepped forward, axe in hand, and said, "I'll do it."
Ian squinted at Rogue and gave a low laugh. "I truly underestimated you all back then. This scheme, though simple and crude, is practical and vicious. At such a young age, your cunning and methods are formidable, your depth profound. Your future prospects are limitless. This old man has fallen into your hands today, and I accept it wholeheartedly. But remember, the wheel of heaven turns; retribution is inexorable. No one escapes the bounds of the Law of Space. Do not push things to the absolute in the future."
"Law of Space?" Rogue muttered it a few times, as if it had struck a chord within him, but he couldn't grasp the feeling, growing somewhat agitated.
Over there, Ian tapped his staff and began chanting incantations. Instantly, the ground around him shimmered with a yellow gloss, a thin layer of grease covering the surface. Then, a protective shield against physical damage formed. Rogue smirked. Another mage treating him like a warrior. Not surprising, given that few mages wore full plate armor.
The fat man watched Ian's third spell carefully but still chose not to move.
Two dark black magic circles appeared on the ground. Two tall skeleton warriors wearing half-plate armor stepped out from the circles, their massive greatswords plowing two small furrows in the earth. The appearance of the skeleton warriors caused panic among the townspeople, who crowded backwards. The noble degenerates below also frowned, gripping their weapons tighter.
Rogue made a few simple gestures, softly uttering an incantation. A puff of black mist drifted past, and Fengyue appeared, holding a long-handled scythe reversed. In just a few days, the scythe seemed even sharper, its color a deeper black. The blade now had a fold, shaped like a crooked lightning bolt, its edge gleaming coldly. Rogue moved his hands rapidly, chanting loudly, and in the blink of an eye cast a Haste spell on Fengyue.
Ian was greatly shocked, never expecting Rogue to be a mage, and one who cast spells so quickly. Seeing that the two skeleton warriors could occupy the opponent for a moment, Ian urgently began his next chant, his hands tracing magical symbols, the magical energy at his fingertips leaving bright trails in the air.
Fengyue, already known for her speed, became even more formidable with the Haste spell. She circled the two skeleton warriors constantly, darting in close to deliver a slash with her scythe before retreating immediately, whether she hit or not. The long-handled scythe had become a streak of black energy, its movements accompanied by a soul-chilling shriek. Facing two skeleton warriors of a higher rank, Fengyue was not at a disadvantage. Seizing this opportunity, Rogue cast Mage Armor and Haste on himself.
By now, Ian's spell was complete. A small yellow-green orb shot from his hands towards Rogue. Franco's face changed dramatically, and he shouted, "Rogue, dodge! It's Disintegrate!" Rogue was shocked; he hadn't realized Ian was already a Level 10 Mage. Without time to think, the fat man turned and ran. The yellow-green orb curved in the air and pursued him. Rogue ran with all his might, his form almost like a wisp of smoke, charging towards the townspeople. The townspeople immediately scattered like frightened ghosts, howling and wailing. Rogue plunged into the crowd, quickly grabbed a yellow dog, and threw it backwards at the orb. The yellow-green orb silently entered the dog's body. In the blink of an eye, the dog was stained yellow-green. Its bark, cut short in mid-air, ceased as it hit the ground heavily and exploded into a cloud of yellow-green dust. A light breeze blew, erasing all traces of the poor dog's existence from the world.
Rogue was drenched in sweat, as if he had just been fished out of water. A moment slower, and it would have been him disintegrated, beyond any hope of resurrection. While the fat man had just escaped death, Fengyue was having a field day. The shriek from the long-handled scythe grew increasingly piercing, until it resembled the wailing of ghosts at midnight. Wreathed in black energy, she targeted the lower limbs of the two tall skeleton warriors, swiftly severing four shin bones. The skeleton warriors crashed to the ground, left only to struggle.
Rogue, his panic barely subsided, stared hatefully at Ian, who had by now erected another magical defense shield. Rogue rapidly chanted an incantation. Magic Missiles flew out—three red orbs drifting leisurely towards Ian. The fat man's chant never stopped; another three red missiles shot forth, this time slightly faster than the first set, followed by yet another three. Nine Magic Missiles flew towards Ian on different trajectories. Ian was dumbfounded; he had never seen a mage cast spells like this. Then, a Flame Arrow shot out like lightning, merging with the nine Magic Missiles and striking Ian's shield with tremendous force. Ian's entire shield fluctuated violently. A flash of electricity later, the shield was shattered.
Fengyue appeared like a ghost behind Ian, reversed her scythe, and struck Ian heavily, knocking him unconscious. Then, with a puff of black mist, she returned to the Otherworld.
"Pah!" The equally exhausted Rogue spat viciously. Having just cheated death, the fat man had no care for his image left. "You can't even beat Fengyue, and you wanted to challenge me with summoned creatures? Damn it! Screw your grandmother! 'Every new wave pushes at the one before'? I'll make sure the former wave dies on the beach!"
"Nothing motivates me more than seeing you add my book to your collection! I'll be writing and posting new chapters for you every day!"