259: The Wenfield Mansion
The Wenfield mansion was on the southern outskirts of the capital.
While it was a high-end residential district, to have a residence in this location was a clear statement of one’s intention to defend the capital in times of emergency.
Since its founding, the Listrea Demon Kingdom had never been invaded. Therefore, the capital was not a fully fortified city, but the old houses on the outskirts were more like fortresses… or rather, they had been built as small fortresses, with an intimidating presence.
The Wenfield mansion, too, was surrounded by a deep, dry moat and heavy stone walls, and the mansion itself was a cold, heavy stone building. The sky, which had been so clear just the other day, was now a gloomy gray, and the air, though it was still early afternoon, was as cold as if winter had returned.
Incidentally, if one wished to be within the capital’s defenses in an emergency, they would have a residence near the royal castle. That area, too, was intimidating, but not in a military sense, but in an economic one, with its luxurious mansions.
Well, it was also true that the wealthy, with their extravagant lifestyles, contributed greatly to the nation’s economy. Most of them were not engaged in any wrongdoing, and were simply taking their ‘fair share.’ Though, considering that they were the ones who had created the market, and were able to build such luxurious mansions with their earnings… I had some thoughts.
But even though I wasn’t as extravagant with my money, I, who lived in a mansion with a cute maid, had no right to talk.
The mansion I had been given, while also built as part of the capital’s defense, was not so imposing. And since it was in an isolated location, it would either be surrounded and taken, or ignored and the enemy would advance on the capital. If I had to say, it would probably serve as a supply base, capable of housing a moderate number of personnel in an emergency. It was probably because of this ambiguous position that it had remained unoccupied under the nation’s management.
But from a different perspective, as a decoy’s residence, that very ambiguity was an advantage. Everything changed, depending on your perspective.
I had brought all of my senior staff with me, from first to fifth in command.
Today’s meeting was, in theory, a ‘conference.’ But the chances of it turning into a ‘purge’ were far from zero.
“Are you the Lord of Disease?”
A voice called out from the watchtower above the ‘gate.’ An elderly male dark elf, in a butler’s uniform, so he was probably a butler. While butlers were often strong in fiction, his actual combat ability was unknown.
“Yes, the Lord of Disease of the Sixth Army, and four others. I am the vice-commander, Lizlit Finis. Open the gate.”
I wore my mask and held my staff, remaining silent.
“Yes, please wait…”
The moment the butler disappeared, the thick wooden gate, which served as a drawbridge, was slowly lowered, bridging the moat.
“…I don’t see the point in keeping the drawbridge up all the time.” Rebecca scoffed as she watched the drawbridge being lowered with a grandiose slowness.
Liz reprimanded her.
“They can hear you.”
“I don’t care.”
“Rebecca. …We didn’t come here to fight.”
My voice was a whisper, without the voice alteration or amplification.
“…I’m sorry. But they targeted our master. I have no intention of letting this go peacefully.”
Rebecca placed her hand on the pommel of her slender rapier. A main-gauche and a wand also hung at her hip. For her, who wore no armor, this was her full equipment.
She was a veteran mage with a reputation for being a researcher, having been assigned to the spell development department at the royal castle, but she also had the strength to win the Sixth Army’s arm-wrestling tournament. I hadn’t seen her swordsmanship, but from her movements when she had taken on the Liverit Grizzly, I could guess at her skill. And to finish it off with a zero-range [Fireball]… was the mark of a true veteran. And the fact that she had burned an Imperial Guard to a crisp with a type of necromancy called [Wisp Fire] was still fresh in my memory. And on top of that, she was a commander, and her specialty was support magic to enhance the undead under her command. The number of her skills, and the level of each, was astounding.
“I will permit you to counterattack. But refrain from any provocative words or actions. …Alright?”
“I know. But remember. —You are our master. Whatever you may think, you are the commander of the Sixth Army, and a supreme commander. The meaning of targeting you… is not light.”
Rebecca’s voice was low, but it was filled with an unusual intensity… and I knew that she was quietly angry.
She had been like this since we had first met. She disliked things that were irrational. She disliked breaches of discipline. That was why she had followed my ridiculous orders, even while voicing her complaints, because I was a supreme commander.
…But this time, I had a feeling that she was angry… for my sake.
I glanced at Samarkand and Harken, and they both nodded silently. They didn’t say anything, but they, too, seemed to be in a bad mood.
But that was why I was able to remain calm. When someone else was angry, it was common for you to calm down.
It was strange, to not be angry when my life had been targeted, but as I had said myself, it was probably because I trusted my guards, starting with Liz. And there was also the guilt of having enjoyed a holiday, under the guise of being a decoy.
The drawbridge landed with a heavy thud. The butler came out to greet us.
“I apologize for the wait. Please, this way…”
I turned on the voice alteration.
“Thank you…” A deep, resonant voice, as if from the depths of hell. From here on, it was the job of the Lord of Disease.
The butler led the way, and we followed, with Liz in front of me today, and the others guarding my flanks.
If possible, I didn’t want to see anyone’s blood. That said, we had already made a considerable concession. And if they still wished to speak with swords… All I wished for was that the blood that was shed would not be that of my subordinates.
