Chapter Thirty Six
"Huh?"
"We'll pray for your soul, Sir Eatassh," Kaelen whispered, his voice trembling as he made a small sign of the cross over his chest. He backed away toward the door, closing it shut.
Click.
Eatassh stood frozen, his hand still white-knuckled on his sword hilt. "Your Grace... how do you know that title?"
"Which one? Viscount Eatassh Bloodbanner?" I asked, my voice flat.
"Kaelen, he looks exactly like me from that time, doesn't he?" Hans whispered, leaning against the wall.
"Lord Hans, at least you had a chair to sit on while taking that shock. I was standing when did that to you," Kaelen replied under his breath.
Why are they so chirpy today?
I ignored them as my eyes traced the invisible blue screen of the system. "Why should I tell you? Information is the only currency that never devalues, Eatassh. And right now, Viscount, you are practically bankrupt."
"Your Grace!"
"Ugh! Don't yell. My head already feels like it's being used as a drum. It's me who's holding the cards, Viscount. Not you."
"I... I..."
Eatassh's voice died in his throat. The professional stoicism he wore like armor began to crack, revealing a man haunted by the ghosts of a title he thought he had buried in the mud of the West.
[Ping!]
[Is Host not scared he might kill you to keep his secret?]
He won't kill me, Sysi. His gratitude towards me still hasn't been paid off. He's an "honorable" fool, after all.
"Don't look so surprised," I said, walking to my bed and plopping down on it as I looked at the ceiling with profound boredom. "You talk of 'goodwill.' You talk of 'honor.' You want your men to haul ice for free because you want to feel like a noble again... which you obviously aren't anymore."
I let out a tired sigh, turning my gaze back to him. There was no warmth in my eyes.
Everyone here is so morally upright and dumb...
"He looks exactly the same as when he did back then, Lord Hans."
"Tell me about it. Scary."
Can't these two be quiet? Why are they behaving like old ladies? So distracting.
"But tell me, Viscount... when your men collapse from exhaustion, does that 'goodwill' mend their bones? When their children cry from hunger in the middle of the night, do you tell them to eat their 'honor' for dinner?"
"I... I work hard to feed them, Your Grace! I hunt to bring them food as much as I can!" Eatassh argued, his chest heaving.
"And yet, you don't have the guts to fight over what rightfully belongs to you," I countered, my voice dropping to a low hum. "Isn't that why you left the Viscounty without demanding a single copper? You just handed everything over to your brother without even trying to prove your innocence."
"Even though he betrayed me... he's my baby brother, Your Grace," Eatassh whispered, his gaze dropping to the floor.
"Then what about the knights that left the Viscounty with you?" I leaned forward, the shadows of the room stretching with me.
"The men who gave up their status, their homes, and their safety to follow you into the frozen North, only to become mercenaries. What are they to you, Eatassh?"
"I never told them to follow me!"
"Truly a terrible leader," I spat. "You allowed your 'brotherly love' to doom dozens of loyal men to a life of wandering and hunger. You prioritized your feelings and ego over their lives. Joining war, offering help for free."
Eatassh staggered as if I'd physically struck him. The legendary Mercenary King looked like a broken child.
"I won't be accepting your charity, Eatassh. I don't need a hero in my Duchy that isn't me." I sighed, the sound echoing in the heavy silence of the room.
"But, the citizens—" Eatassh started, his voice desperate.
"I am their Lord, Viscount. Not you." I cut him off. "Their hunger is my burden. Their safety is my responsibility. If worse to worse comes, I'll go and build their ice houses with my own hands. Your 'goodwill' is an insult to my position."
"I..." Eatassh's shoulders slumped, the fire in his eyes dimming. He looked like a man who had finally realized that his noble intentions were useless without a title.
"However," I continued, watching him through half-lidded eyes, "that being said, if you still want to help, I have a proposal for you. Where each of us can benefit. I can get what I want. You can continue living up to those morals. And, your loyal followers can keep their stomachs filled instead of wondering everyday what all of this suffering is for."
Eatassh looked up, a flicker of hope returning to his weathered face. "What is it that you want, Your Grace?"
"You see, I plan to invade the Vische Barony and make the territory one," I stated plainly, as if I were discussing the weather rather than a declaration of territory war. "I need manpower to do that. Real manpower."
[Ping!]
[Host never misses a chance, does he?]
If you start paying me gold, I'll look the other way when opportunities come.
[Ping!]
[Host is... Host.]
...What?
Eatassh blinked, his brow furrowing. "I don't understand what you're suggesting, Your Grace."
"I'm saying work under me. Instead of the Red Mercenaries, be the Second Order of the Halcrest Knight Order."
Eatassh sighed. "Why should I, Your Grace? My men are free, right now. Why should we tie ourselves to a failing Duchy? That too the Duchy run by the half-brother of the Emperor. It's like jumping into hell."
"Because I'll feed your men and their families," I said, my voice cutting through the air like a blade. "One sack of rye per month. For every single man. I'll even make you stronger than you are. Just give me one month. And, if you still don't like this place you can leave after one month."
Kaelen nudged Hans with his elbow. "Isn't that the same thing you got offered, Lord Hans?"
"Yep," Hans popped the 'p', leaning back with a look of shared trauma. "Different hooks, same bait. I got revenge, money and food. He's getting strength, honor and food. Your Grace is very consistent with his kidnapping techniques."
"Is it me or his aura feels more demonic than last time, Lord Hans? Uuuhhh."
"Tell me about it."
"I see," Eatassh ignored them, his shoulders slumping as if he had lost the will to do anything.
Did I hit values too hard?
This won't do. I don't need a cold ass knight with all the strength but no burning will to fight.
"Eatassh."
"Yes, Your Grace?"
"Don't you ever feel angry? And sad?" The shadows under my eyes making me look like a ghost myself.
"About what, Your Grace?"
"Your brother," I sighed, making a pitiful expression. "I'm going through something similar, you see. I trusted Baron Vische so much. He was my only friend in this wasteland. Do you know what that bastard did? He wasn't just 'helping' me manage the fief. He was feeding me opium."
"YOUR GRACE!"