Rebellion 2

Translator: Cinder Translations

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"Burp!" 

Paul covered his mouth as he let out a satisfied belch.

"That roasted venison was really good. Ferguson sure knows how to cook."

Accompanied by Victor and Ladia, Paul savored the aftertaste of the meal as they leisurely walked back to his tent.

The hunting party was camping in the forest that night. This was Paul's first time camping in the wilderness, whether in his past life or his current one. Tents, bonfires, and whole roasted animals—all of it felt very novel to him. In his previous life, such things would be out of the question; lighting a fire in the mountains would have landed him in prison.

Paul's tent was set up separately from the others—people like Ferguson and the rest. His tent was positioned at the center of the camp, surrounded by six other tents belonging to Victor, Ladia, and the guards, who had arranged themselves in a circle around him. Further outside, there was a barricade of Cheval de frise.

TL: Cheval de Frise is a wooden barrier, that stands on the ground with its sharpened tip pointed upwards at an angle. Look it up.

By this time, the sun had already set, and the guards had lit torches and stuck them into the ground, illuminating the camp.

Paul pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. It was a little after 8 p.m. "It's still early for me to go to bed. How about we play a few hands of cards in my tent if you're not planning on sleeping yet? Victor, go and find a few more people to join us."

Today's hunt had left Paul feeling lucky, and he wondered if that good fortune would carry over to the card game.

"Of course, Lord Grayman. I'll go find people right away," Victor replied eagerly. The lord wasn't great at cards, which meant that Victor was in for some unexpected winnings.

Ladia glanced at Paul with pity before nodding in agreement.

"Who are you? Step back!" 

A voice suddenly called out from the entrance of the camp, causing the three of them to turn and look.

One of the guards on duty had his hand on his sword hilt, pointing at someone outside the camp. By the light of the torches, Paul could make out that the person was dressed like a servant.

Could it be one of Ferguson's people? Or perhaps someone from the Walter family? The dinner gathering had already ended—was there some post-dinner event he was being invited to?

"I have urgent news for Lord Grayman!" 

The man seemed to recognize Paul and shouted at him, though his voice trembled. Strangely, despite calling out, it sounded like he was trying to keep his voice low, as if he didn't want others to hear.

Paul called out to the guards, "Let him in!"

The two guards on duty stepped forward and frisked the man before allowing him to enter.

Victor moved toward the man, positioning himself between him and Paul.

"Who sent you? What business do you have with Lord Grayman at this hour?"

The man looked anxious. "I'm with the intelligence department. Lord Grayman, your life is in danger tonight!"

His words stunned everyone present.

Victor reacted the fastest, scanning the surroundings before grabbing the man by the arm. "Come with me to the tent," he ordered.

He then instructed the two guards from earlier, "Alert everyone to prepare for maximum security. Don't let anyone else in, but keep things quiet."

"Yes, Lord Victor," the guards responded, realizing something big was happening and immediately went to inform their comrades.

Victor held the man's arm tightly and led him, along with Paul and Ladia, into the central tent.

He glared at the man. "Explain exactly what's going on." But even as he spoke, he didn't let go.

The servant-dressed man gasped for breath before continuing, "My name is Brandy in the intelligence department. Here, I go by Mick. Two years ago, Lord Cecil assigned me to infiltrate the Walter family as a servant. I'm not the only one—other companions were also placed in various families. Last month, my superior told me to closely monitor any unusual activity from the target families, especially their reactions to the Tax Reform Policy by the Council of State. However, since I'm not a long-serving member of the Walter family, they haven't fully trusted me yet, so I haven't been able to gather much information.

"But starting two days ago, I and the other servants were suddenly tasked with transporting large amounts of incendiary materials—sulfur and the like—and placing them throughout this forest."

"Incendiary materials?" Everyone was shocked at the terrifying implication. The area they were in was full of trees and plants.

"Yes, all sorts of flammable items. And the key part is that just recently, the Walter family armed us and ordered us to follow any command—no matter what it is."

"Weapons?" Paul felt as though his heart was gripped by something.

There was no doubt someone was planning to make a move against him.

"Heh! Heh!"

Paul, furious, laughed bitterly, his arm trembling—this time, from rage.

"Great! Just great! They're actually going through with this. It seems I was too optimistic after all."

Victor, equally enraged, grabbed Brandy by the collar. "Then why didn't you inform us sooner?!"

Brandy's face twisted in pain. "Forgive my incompetence, my lord. The servants, myself included, were under tight surveillance. If we tried to leave on our own, we'd be killed on the spot. They've never cared about the lives of lowly servants like us. I suspect when they make their move, they'll use us expendable servants as cannon fodder to weaken your forces. I only managed to escape by pretending I had a stomachache and slipping away."

Inside the tent, Ladia's expression was the only one that remained calm. She asked steadily, "Now that we're aware of their plot, how about we strike first? Brandy, how many people do you think are involved?"

Paul also asked, "Or should we quietly slip away?"

Brandy's face darkened as he replied, "There must be at least five hundred people lying in ambush in this forest, and they've reportedly stationed more forces outside the forest, blocking all routes. Several families have invested heavily in this assassination plot against you, Lord Grayman."

Victor quickly ruled out the idea of a breakout, noting a critical point: their horses were tied together with those of the other families.

Ladia decisively said to Paul, "Lord Grayman, let's fortify our defenses. We don't know what traps they've set on the roads if we try to break out. I trust the elite guards of the lord's manor can hold off the rebels long enough for us to send word for help."

Paul anxiously asked, "Send word? How? Do we form a suicide squad to charge out?"

The green-haired witch gestured, and the next moment something flapped its way into the tent—not walked in, but flew in. It landed on her shoulder.

Paul squinted and realized it was Ladia's large parrot. It was about the size of an eagle, though it was called a parrot. He'd seen it a few times before. Had it followed its master on this hunting trip as well? How had he not noticed it?

"Can it… do the job?" 

"It can!" Ladia said confidently.

"But… what if they set the forest on fire?" Paul asked.

"Then we'll let them burn themselves," Ladia replied, her green eyes glinting with determination.

(End of the Chapter)

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Translated 4 Series, 1.65K+ Chapters and 2.01M+ Words.