"Hooh..."
As you breathe out, steam comes out of your mouth. It is a normal occurrence in a place as cold as Achtreal March.
Looking at the people in my surrounding, I feel like being surrounded by Dragomano, which is a mixture of human and Dragon. Maybe, they got too excited by my "vision;" the steam that comes out of their mouth is thicker than it should be normally.
"What should we do next?" one of the people asks.
"We have to lure the villain out of his hide first," I respond. "He should love his son, so he will spend a lot of effort to find the killer of his son. For the time being, I want you to inform the others that you are going to be an independent territory."
Being an independent territory gives the territory and its people a lot of space to move. They can change their territory for the better with the profit the territory makes without thinking about paying taxes.
That is, however, the case if said territory manages to prosper after being independent. In most cases, many territories don't, which is one of the reasons why very few people want their territory to get independent.
Another, stronger, reason for that is the fact that the protection over their territory will cease. In other words, they have to fend for themselves when Cursed Creations come to raid their territory.
These people I have persuaded had this concern before, which is why I told them about the "truth." They now believe that they no longer need the Kingdom's protection, so it is time to liberate their territory and stop suffering from Noble's suppression.
To liberate their territory, they need to make Elijah Crook, the current Marquess say yes to that idea. It is impossible, therefore, they want to help me kill the bastard and then pick a new caretaker of the territory, so he can say yes to the idea of independence.
"Some people have a favorable impression toward the Marquess. I am afraid we can't convince everyone," the guard who received my gold coin speaks.
"He who shouts the loudest will be heard. Just gather those who agree; don't bother to convince those who don't," I reply.
"Is it really necessary for us to wait until the Marquess sweeps the entire March to look for you?" a young woman asks, looking impatient and anxious.
"Of course, it is. Since we are going to be the winner, we have the right to write history. For that, however, we have to provide some believable evidence. By letting him do that, we can claim that he orders his men to kill us. The truth will never come out, so that is what other people will believe."
The people slightly squint their eyes as they look at me and shake their heads eventually. "We don't quite keep up with your thoughts."
"We can use that as the reason why we decided to be independent. We need to show people how cruel he is as a ruler, so the others know we are not doing something stupid," I elaborate. "Also...it is to encourage the other territories to do the same."
Widening their eyes in enlightenment, the people nod their heads vigorously afterward. Their eyes light up as they look at me like they are looking at a supreme genius who has solved their problems.
Saying their farewell to me not long after, they go back to their houses or busy themselves with their jobs. Since the people who live around this area feel the same about the Marquess and his policy, they easily act as if what happened didn't happen.
Many of them were just looking at me from inside their shops or houses when the discussion was ongoing. They, however, listened to it keenly and silently agreed to do what I suggested; thanks to this, there is no commotion.
"These bodies...even though these people act like they don't see them, I can't just leave them here."
The bodies of the idiot Alan and his men are lying in the middle of the road. Since carriages rarely pass it and all of the people passing by travel on foot, the bodies are being walked over like they are speed bumps.
Now, there is no need to pay them any respect but it doesn't suit the image I want to paint. They have to look like suppressed people fighting back rather than savages that can't be bound.
Using Fire Magic, I set the bodies on fire and then watch as my hellish fire reduces them to ashes. Not long after, Millonia comes back. She crosses her hands as she looks at me with a quirked eyebrow. At this moment, Lunea, who has been standing on my side, changes sides and stands beside Millonia.
"I have done what you requested. Isn't it time to explain? For you to do something like that is very reckless of you. Don't you realize we are not that far from the capital?" She chastises. "Still, I believe you have a reason. Tell me."
At this moment, Lunea speaks up. Expecting her to paraphrase Millonia's words, I am surprised when she speaks to Millonia instead.
"Well, the thing is, Millonia, Layland wants to help these people. You see, this is what we are going to do..." She explains what I am going to do with the help of the people exactly like what I explained.
Millonia hums to herself when Lunea finished explaining the plan. She looks at me with a small smirk and then shakes her head in, what I say, amusement.
"Well, a cunning one, aren't you?"
"Huh? What part of it is cunning, Millonia?" Lunea wonders. "I mean, the Marquess does horrible things to them. Depicting him in a bad light is being honest."
Millonia shakes her head. "No, you don't get it. I am referring to this cheeky bastard." She gestures her chin at me. "Liberating this March is the preparation for its integration to the Verniculos Kingdom. He just wants to expand our territory."
Lunea blinks her eyes in confusion before widening her eyes in realization. She looks at me astonished and then nods her head in approval.
"Very smart," she remarks with awe.
At this point, the bodies have turned to ashes and the ashes have been blown away by the wind. There is no reason for us to stand outside, so we return to our hotel room and meet the peacefully sleeping Winerva.
....
Seven hours have passed since Millonia delivered the idiot Alan's head to his idiot father, Elijah. The sweeping started half an hour ago, so the March soldiers are crowding the road.
None of the Swordmen among the soldiers is even stronger than Winerva, our weakest member. The Mages among the soldiers also aren't that outstanding, so I believe Lunea can easily take twenty of them down by herself.
Their number, though, for a March is a lot. They exceed the number of soldiers in Brontes Dukedom that is now governed by our agents; it is unnerving for many but things are the same for me, who can butcher them with a single swing of my sword.
Crash!
"No, sir, please! Please, don't destroy my house!"
"Tell me who the fuck killed Young Master Alan!"
"I don't know, sir--I don't know!"
"Deceitful bastard!"
Bam!
He who lies will propagate lies. Just like their master, the soldiers are violent toward the citizens: they kick, punch, and even ransack the citizens' houses like bandits. They do it to everyone who lives in the March, not only the people who live in the area where I stay.
Before their eyes, everyone is guilty, so all of them are punishable. Talking about danger, I think they are more dangerous than us, Cursed Creations, that humans deem a threat to humanity.
"Layland...the people are suffering. When should we start?" Lunea whispers jitterily as she looks at the scene outside the window.
p
I can't make myself look like the perpetrator. I want to paint myself as the helper of the suppressed, so I will only help them in the fight; as for how the rebellion starts, the citizens have to figure it out themselves.
"Kyaa!" a familiar voice attracts my attention.
When I see who it is, Lunea immediately urges me. "Layland! Let's do it!" It is the middle-aged woman whom she healed seven hours ago.
I ignore Lunea as I watch the unfolding scene. The soldiers are surrounding the middle-aged woman, debating among themselves who should have a go first; she is sure pleasant to look at but I don't think she is worth fighting for, so I find it highly amusing.
"Enough, you savages! We have had enough of you! Who cares if that useless bastard died? He had violated many of our daughters and killed them. Dying was a fitting price for him to pay!"
That is the cue of the rebellion. The people who have been cooping themselves up in their houses as their neighbors are abused get out of their houses holding things that they can use as weapons.
The scene stuns the soldiers. It lasts for only a few seconds, unfortunately; they laugh boisterously in ridicule soon after. Their laughter stops again when the gate guards join the people in confronting them. They take a brief look at the guards and then laugh disdainfully again.
"It is show time..." I mutter as I jump out of the window.
Boom!
As Rexorem blasts ten of them to pieces, their laughter stops eternally this time. The citizens and the guards, who have been gulping nervously, regain their courage, meanwhile, the soldiers tremble in fear as they look at me.
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