"Brother Dingle, should we take this chance to escape?"
On the streets of the upper city, a squad of fifty n marched toward the noble guesthouse. One soldier suddenly voiced the thought.
"Don't ever say such things again. If you want to run, go by yourself. I'm not like you. My son and daughter-in-law were killed by nobles. The duke could've stopped it, but he didn't—he enjoyed it. To them, slaughter was nothing more than amusent. I've endured until today only for one reason: to kill Duke Valos and those nobles from back then."
Dingle's face darkened, hatred and shadow buried deep in his eyes.
His earlier slaughter had indeed shown loyalty, but more than that—it was vengeance against the nobility.
"You don't have any family left outside, do you? Do you know why you were chosen to join the duke's household? Because once a recruitnt officer marked you, your family's fate was already sealed. They wanted tools to devote everything to the duke, not people. That was the selection standard."
Dingle revealed a secret he had long known but never dared to say.
He had never known who might be the duke's informant. If he'd exposed himself, he'd have been silenced instantly. Even the duke himself never knew the couple tortured to death that night had been Dingle's own kin.
"What?!" A soldier's face twisted in disbelief.
He had been strong enough to survive brutal labor at the construction sites, earning his place and so savings, even gaining a wife and child.
Then, a so-called "accident" had taken them away. Right after, a recruiter had appeared and brought him into the duke's service. So their deaths hadn't been an accident at all?
"Osk, you used to work in the recruitnt office. You know the truth, don't you?" Dingle turned to a tall, thin soldier.
"What Brother Dingle says is true. I questioned it once—and they demoted to the lowest ranks. Since then, I've kept quiet. My old mother still lives in the city. Normally, the recruiters pick soldiers without attachnts. But when that isn't enough, they… manufacture accidents." Osk lowered his head.
His captain had told him to keep quiet. For his mother's sake, he obeyed.
"Damn it!" Tears of sha stread down the soldiers' faces. They realized they had been nothing more than toys in the nobles' hands.
Now Duke Valos was gone. No more overseers, no weight pressing down on them. Lies no longer mattered—only truth remained.
"Revenge. We must have revenge!"
The dead in the castle had included a few they knew as friends, but most were strangers, for the nobles had always kept them apart. Family mattered far more—and knowing now their families had been destroyed for convenience, the hatred cut too deep to forget.
Just to ensure their complete devotion to the army, the nobles had gone so far. Were their lives worth nothing?
"This is our chance. Dangerous, yes—but many nobles still live. Until I've taken my revenge, I won't stop. If you want to leave, I won't stop you either," Dingle said calmly.
Even if they abandoned him, he would return. Even if Rosen killed him, it didn't matter. For the first ti in years, he saw hope for vengeance. A new king was rising—old nobility would be the first to fall.
"We want revenge too!"
This world had never lacked darkness, nor n of blood and fire.
At the ruins of the Ironclad Fortress, Rosen waited calmly. Xia listened quietly as Rosen taught her how to face the days ahead. From now on, she would be in the open.
"Boss, can we win this war?" Robin asked, gazing at the sea of blood. Her heart was heavy; death never brought joy.
"Robin, we will win. Our cause is not easy, and it will be marked by sacrifice. But we cannot falter or hesitate. What we do leaves no room for doubt. If we start questioning now, it will only bring disaster later." Rosen's gaze was unwavering.
"I understand." Robin nodded, catching his aning.
"That man won't run off with his troops, will he?"
"It's possible. But I don't think so. So n run when danger cos. Others seize the chance. Fear and hunger look very different in the eyes."
…
The surviving nobles inside the castle were few. The soldiers quickly finished them off. anwhile, outside, three armies had completely surrounded the place.
Each was led by a commander—Vick, Rea, and Dast—Duke Valos's trusted generals, responsible for all external defense and warfare.
When they heard cannon fire from the fortress, they had followed ergency protocol, assembling their troops at once.
But what they now saw left them shocked to the core.
The Ironclad Fortress—breached. In such a short ti. Impossible! Who could've done this? Was Duke Valos still alive?
"What in the world happened here?"
Over ten thousand soldiers encircled Rosen and the remaining fortress troops. The question ca from Commander Vick, a burly, battle-hardened man whose eyes blazed with fury as he glared at Rosen.
"Duke Valos!" cried Rea, the short commander, as he spotted a corpse not far away.
In an instant, weapons were leveled at Rosen and his people. Rosen rose, looking calmly at the three generals. Clearly, they had been the duke's confidants—but they had arrived too late.
"Stop! What are you doing? This is Princess Xia, Duke Valos's granddaughter, rightful heir of the Andia Kingdom!" Dingle's voice rang out as he returned with several dozen soldiers. He barked the words straight at Commander Vick.
Though only the second steward, Dingle had long been a favored aide to the duke, with status nearly equal to the chief steward. Even these generals hadn't enjoyed as much trust.
"Steward Dingle… what is going on here?" Vick's tone softened slightly. The sight of Valos's corpse had shaken them badly, leaving them unsettled and uncertain.
"You should ask His Majesty's envoy." Dingle's voice was grim as he dragged forward a dazed, bloodied count.
"Release ! How dare you! I am the king's envoy! So it's true—Duke Valos was planning rebellion! You're all finished—every last one of you!" The count's legs had been broken, and he was thrown to the ground before the generals.
"Shut your mouth! Still pretending? Those assassins were your n! You tried to kill Duke Valos and wipe out Princess Xia. If not for us protecting her, the duke's only surviving bloodline would already be dead. Who could believe His Majesty would be so cruel? Just because the duke's daughter bore a girl instead of a boy, just because the secret slipped, you would slaughter his entire house? Where is justice in this world?!" Dingle roared, his voice raw, denying the count any chance to argue. He kicked him brutally in the face, leaving it mangled.
His rage was no act—he rembered. He had been there that night.
(End of Chapter)
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