Chapter 337

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio  Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Crick wasn’t vicious. On the contrary, he was rather mild and friendly, even to the servants in his baron’s mansion and beggars on the street. He hardly ever behaved harshly or punished others.

This didn’t mean that he was weak though, nor did he tend to show unnecessary kindness on critical issues.

He could also be brutal and cold-blooded when needed.

For instance, he had fought atop a horse and killed numerous people during the battle of Sun’s Death Day two years ago in the winter.

Now, facing the aggressive Grand Duke of Thunder, he again became so angry that he couldn’t even stop himself from killing!

The Bishop of Miramon had a good and practical idea and the most important thing was, it exposed his blind spot.

Through all this time, he had never thought of confronting the Grand Duke of Thunder. After all, the Keane Hill was hugely different from the Duchy of Thunder.

The Duchy of Thunder could easily summon official troops of no less than twenty thousand soldiers when needed, of which over three thousand would be armored-knights with a good command of various weapons rushing into the battlefield on their horses.

What about the Keane Hill? Well they could also provide three thousand people—of all ages and genders—and have each of them fight with a sharpened wood stick as their weapons.

However, a troop of twenty thousand people would just be wishful thinking, as the Keane Hill would never able to gather such a headcount, even if they included the livestock there.

Or maybe it would be less wishful to gather twenty thousand ants.

In terms of advanced force, there were typically four legendary masters based in the Duchy of Thunder. In critical cases, it would even be able to convince twice as many as usual to join. At least two of these four were direct subordinates of the Duke of Thunder, including Gates Enrique, or the “Slayer of the Green-eyed Dragon,” who was one of the three marquesses and the Duchess’ brother.

Looking back at the Keane Hill, Bishop Miramon from the Church of Void Mask was its number one master to date, at level 19—not even at the advanced legendary peak. Moreover, he wasn’t a direct subordinate of Crick. “Three Arrows” Ryder was at level 15 now, the highest among Crick’s subordinates, barely reaching the advanced level.

It was such an obvious gap!

Indeed, the Keane Hill already had its strength. With thirty armored foot soldiers, twenty senior soldiers who were good archers or skilled in other weapons, around ten knights, four middle-ranked spellcasters, and three experienced adventurers, along with additional militia at temporary request, it could manage to organize a troop of around three hundred.

And the friendly Church of God of Art and Culture and the Church of Void Mask would be willing to support them at their request by providing about twenty adventurers, including several spellcasters. There was even a chance they could borrow a small group of knights from the temple.

Such a force would be more than enough to defeat any baronet and most viscounts easily… but defeating the entire Country of Thunder and Lightning would also require intelligence.

All this time, Crick had been bound to this thought, so he hadn’t refused the Lord’s command last time to provide support against the Eagle Kingdom, even when it had been so dangerous that he could have died.

However, Miramon’s words had enlightened him like the sunlight at dawn.

Indeed, the Duchy of Thunder was truly strong, and the Duke of Thunder was powerful, but why did it matter?

He was nobody but the leader of the great nobles and was probably superior to a baron or viscount, yet this might not have been the case when he was with an earl.

The Keane Hill was located in the heart of Earl Holhuck’s territory, whose consent was necessary before the Duke of Thunder could attempt to attack with troops or masters. Besides, it would be very likely for them to negotiate for—in light of the transportation modes in this world—more than a year.

Then why was he still concerned?

He could choose to desert the Duke of Thunder and take his oath to Earl Holhuck in the worst case!

In this world, betrayal was considered an inferior move, and no honorable man would do so, even if threatened by death. This had assured the Duke of Thunder of the Keane Hill’s loyalty, as he believed Crick Keane was an honorable man who would rather swallow all his complaints before betray him.

How naive he had been! Though Crick truly was a decent person, he wouldn’t be confined to “loyalty” or any common notions here, because he had never belonged to this world.

Crick still remembered a professor at his university from the past who had seemed to enjoy criticizing the historical transformation of traditional intellectuals. Each time he talked about this piece of history, he had always cried in grief, “Be engaged in government affairs when doctrine dominates, and live in seclusion when doctrine fades. But what is the third choice if seclusion is blocked!”

It was said that the professor had fought with another professor who had spoken ill of the first generation of governors, so it had been hard to tell if he was loyal or not.

Thanks to his roar, Crick still had some historic sayings left in memory. Though he had already forgotten where they came from, at least he could make some use of them when needed.

Like say, now.

Since the Thunder Lord hadn’t cared about being kind to his men, it would be natural for Baron Keane to betray him or pledge allegiance to a more reliable leader!

Crick was feeling no pressure, but pure excitement about doing so.

Though he had made up his mind to confront the Duke of Thunder, vowing his allegiance to Earl Holhuck would have to wait.

After all, Crick had never thought of being one of his men before, nor had he studied this earl. Basically, he knew nothing about him except for his great influence, remarkable strength, and large number of followers.

Who would easily kneel down before someone with such simple information? An idiot?

With all these thoughts in his mind, he couldn’t help bursting into laughter.

It was a shame that he wasn’t performing any stand-up comedy at that time. Otherwise, his partner next to him would have asked, “What are you laughing at, my lord?”

Yet he was not, so everyone was just looking at him with surprise. After all, he had still looked worried moments ago and suddenly seemed to cheer up after whispering with Bishop Miramon.

Miramon was confused as well. Though he had believed his plan was a nice one, he hadn’t expected to delight Baron Keane so much.

Seeing all the puzzled faces in the meeting room, Crick smiled and explained, “I just figured out something.”

“What?” asked Layton hurriedly.

Putting on a smile again to make people more curious, Crick said casually, “I risked my life before to serve the Duke of Thunder, and I don’t owe him anything now. I don’t have to be his man forever.”

All were shocked by his words and looked at each other with confusion.

Once, under the command of the lord, Crick had left for the battlefield with his army without a second word or concern of bloodshed. Why had he changed his mind in just a few years?

“Shouldn’t a lord be kind to his men in exchange for their loyalty?” said Crick. “Didn’t I prove my loyalty by fighting the battles with the Duke of Thunder? But look at how he’s been treating me. Do I deserve the benefits from my own land being looted?

“And imagine if you were my men and risked your lives fighting for me, but all you had in return was looting possessions, instead of glory and rewards. What would you think of that?”

“Impossible!”

“You would never do this, my lord!”

“You must be joking.”

Crick sneered and slammed the table with a dagger. “If that is ever true, I shall cut my own throat before any of you can say a word to save my reputation!”

He glanced at each face in front of him seriously. “But now, I’m being treated exactly that way by that fat gangster!”

The crowd finally understood and grew furious. The young and aggressive knight Charles Ouss even jumped up and yelled, “Rise! Rise!”

“We need a plan. Otherwise, it would just be waste of your lives.” Crick raised his hands to signal silence. “But without a doubt, from now on, we are not responding to any damn command of that *sshole! Rafael, find someone to secretly dispose of this messenger properly and make him look like he’s been attacked by magic beasts on his way… Should be easy for you, huh?”

“Very much so,” sneered Rafael, the source.

Crick nodded. He smiled but sighed again.

“Poor thing, anyway. He was just doing his job delivering messages but never expected to pay with his life…”

“Not that innocent!” Ryder, the patrol captain, said with a grim face. “He was rushing to the city on a horse when I saw him, and he nearly crashed into others and caused casualties. I was almost shocked when he argued that he was carrying urgent military orders!”

“Oh?!” Crick’s expression turned cold upon hearing this. “Doesn’t sound like a good person. Then no more guilty words from me.”

“These messengers are mostly villains living off of their lords’ power; how many good men would work like that?” Rena the scout snorted. “Even fewer than I have gold coins!”

“How many gold coins are you with now?” Crick asked curiously.

Rena took out her purse and emptied it. There were just silver and copper ones, along with a holy emblem from the Church of the Goddess of Wealth.

Obviously, she had stored all the gold elsewhere and couldn’t find any in her purse.

The crowd burst into laughter and cleared away the grave atmosphere.

A few days later, some adventurers discovered the body of the Thunder Lord’s messenger from the capital, and they reported it to Baron Keane to receive a handsome reward.

Then the baron sent the report in a letter to the capital.

But why had such a capable messenger with his guards died from a magic beast attack on the main road and lost most of his belongings? And why hadn’t the news arrived sooner? Nobody knew.

There was no clue from Crick, anyway.

Whether or not the Duke of Thunder would believe it would be determined by him alone.