"What? The third boss is a traitor?"
At that moment, the Black Mountain bandits present didn't act rashly. Instead, they all turned to look at the third boss, waiting for an explanation.
And the third boss — his mind was racing.
Countless thoughts of being cast aside after earning too much merit, being silenced after being used flashed through his head.
Among the hundred or so bandits here, only a dozen were truly loyal to him.
If any of the others were swayed by this stupid woman's words…
If they decided to turn on him for his position—
He wouldn't be able to fend off so many of them at once.
So, he shouted angrily,
"Viscount Hawk, if you can't control the lunatic in your house, I can do it for you!"
As he spoke, he tightened his grip, about to snap Lady Hawk's arm to teach this madwoman a lesson.
But before he could strike, the group that had followed Lady Hawk charged forward.
The surrounding Black Mountain bandits instinctively wanted to intervene, but seeing the grim expression of Viscount Hawk, they hesitated.
After all, several of those attacking were members of gold-ranked noble families—
Not people that lowly bandits like them could afford to offend.
The power struggles among the higher-ups had nothing to do with common soldiers like them.
In the end, only a few of the third boss's most loyal men stepped forward to shield him.
Even then, they fought cautiously—avoiding serious harm to those who charged at them,
especially the ones in elegant clothes who clearly came from high status.
But while they were holding back, the other side was not.
Those people fought like they were facing their father's murderer—
even though they were weaker, they were fearless, desperate.
And among them were guards from Hawk Manor—seasoned fighters in their own right.
It didn't take long before the first casualty appeared.
It was one of the third boss's personal guards,
an old bandit with poor talent who had only just reached the level of a novice warrior,
but he was a long-time member—well-liked by everyone in the camp.
His death was like a fuse being lit.
The other Black Mountain bandits, who had been hesitating on the sidelines, couldn't sit still any longer.
Their comrades had been holding back, while the others were fighting to kill—
How could they just stand by and take that?
And besides, yes, some of the people here were from gold-ranked families,
but their loyalty was to the second young master, not to this third young master.
What—were they supposed to just let their throats be cut and not resist?
So, the previously uncertain bandits joined the fight—
this time, no one held back.
Soon, the once-orderly courtyard of Hawk Manor was soaked in blood.
Corpses and severed limbs were everywhere.
The hundred or so men from Hawk Manor stood no chance against the trained Black Mountain bandits.
By the end, not a single one of Hawk Manor's people was still standing—
not even Hawk's children or concubines.
Everyone had gone mad with killing; no one cared about anyone's "status" anymore.
Viscount Hawk survived only because he had been standing right beside the third boss.
"You… how dare you…?"
The bandits' assault had been so sudden that Hawk barely had time to react.
But when he finally did—it was already too late.
As he looked at the corpses of his wife, his children, his loyal men—pain tore through him.
Agony.
Utter, searing agony.
Quite literally—pain.
Because at some point, the third boss had taken the dagger from Lady Hawk's hand—
and stabbed it deep into Hawk's back.
"W-Why…?"
With his dying breath, Hawk's eyes were filled with disbelief.
He couldn't comprehend why his brother's most trusted lieutenant would betray him.
"Everyone stop fighting!"
The third boss ignored the dying Hawk and turned to roar at the others:
"This is a trap! A trap set by the big boss to get rid of us old dogs!"
He swept his gaze across the blood-soaked scene and continued shouting:
"Think about it! We're the oldest members of the Black Mountain gang!
Without us risking our lives, there'd be no territory—no Black Mountain camp, no Black Mountain army!
And now that things are going well, what does Hawk do?
He thinks we're old, useless, dead weight!
But he's a man who cares about his reputation—he can't just tell us to get lost outright.
So what does he do? He sets us up!"
As he spoke, it was as if revelation struck him—his words flowed more naturally, even convincing himself.
"So he sends his little brother to lure us into a trap!
No matter how it ends, he gets a reason to deal with us!
Look at the corpses at your feet! There are gold-ranked nobles among them!
Do you really think Hawk will let you go when we return?!"
The bandits began to waver.
Many of them were loyal to Hawk, yes—but now that the deed was done,
could they really trust him not to take revenge?
"Even if he doesn't punish you publicly, we killed his brother's whole family!
Do you think he won't get his revenge in secret?
Won't send us on suicide missions one by one?"
Question after question eroded what little loyalty remained.
Seeing the moment was ripe, the third boss raised his weapon high and shouted:
"So what are we waiting for? Let's rebel against him!
We'll take Black Mountain for ourselves!
Drink, feast, take women—never again bow to those damned gold-blooded nobles!"
"Yeah!"
One of his loyal men was first to respond.
At first, no one else joined in—
but soon more voices followed,
and before long, all the Black Mountain bandits were shouting together.
The third boss smiled.
Looking down at the barely-breathing Viscount Hawk,
he leaned close to whisper in his ear:
"I really should thank you. You handed me the knife yourself.
If not for you, I might never have found the perfect excuse to turn these men against your dear brother."
"You… you planned this all along… you traitor…"
"Traitor? Don't make it sound so ugly.
When did I ever say I was loyal to the Golden Family?"
He smirked.
"I've always served one man—and one man only…
the Marquis of North Mountain."
Viscount Hawk's pupils constricted sharply.
He wanted to speak, but strength left his body—
and as his vision faded to black, he died with eyes wide open,
unwilling to rest even in death.