Chapter 17: The Insurrection

Salene, with her deep knowledge of the manor, was determined to weaken the Lichtenstein family's forces. She spread a map across the table, outlining her plan for Shin.

He noticed the fire in her eyes, a twisted inspiration that seemed to fuel her. It was as if she had dreamed of this moment for years. He let her take charge, listening in silence as she relished the opportunity to lead.

Since she had lived in the manor longer than he had, Shin allowed her to lay out the strategy. She proposed eliminating the smaller guardhouses one by one, quietly taking out those still loyal to the Lichtensteins while recruiting others, guards, servants, and anyone willing to fight.

They would gather the dead and hide the bodies to prevent the main guardhouse from catching wind of their movements. Once they had secured enough forces, they could move on to larger targets.

Salene revealed that the Lichtensteins had their own private army, funded by the Crown. Taking them down would not be easy, but if they moved carefully, it was possible. Shin agreed, and they wasted no time executing the plan.

Together, they gathered allies, liberating guard and servant quarters, eliminating those who remained loyal to the family, and bolstering their numbers. The occupied guardhouse became their base of operations, a stronghold for their growing rebellion.

The halls of the manor, once filled with whispers of servitude, now carried the echoes of preparation and defiance. Those who had once trembled at the sight of their oppressors now gripped weapons with renewed purpose.

As they worked, Shin observed Salene. She fought fiercely, inspiring others to join their cause. Her strength had always been there, buried beneath years of oppression, but now it burned brightly.

She declared that she would fight for justice and truth. While Shin admired her resolve, he couldn't shake the guilt of deceiving her. He had no choice. For his own survival, she might need to be sacrificed. The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few... or the one.

After several successful skirmishes, Shin instructed the rebels to either take up arms or flee the manor. Salene, however, had no intention of running. "If nothing else, I will do what I could not before. The Lichtensteins must answer for their crimes."

Most chose to fight, but some wished to escape and spread word to the nearby town. Shin, relying on his keen perception, observed their body language.

He could tell who was lying and who was telling the truth. Among them, a handful remained loyal to the Lichtensteins, including the servant with the missing fingers.

Before Shin could act, Salene took matters into her own hands. Without hesitation, she grabbed a sword and cut down the traitors before they could alert the household. Blood pooled around their lifeless bodies as the rest of the rebels stood frozen in fear.

She turned to them, her voice cold. "If you lie, you will die like these fools. Understood?"

Heads nodded frantically. Fear was a powerful motivator.

She handed the bloodied sword to one of the rebels, and then addressed the others. Shin stepped back, allowing her to have this moment.

She stood tall, her voice unwavering. "For years, they have tortured us, made us suffer in silence while they toyed with our lives. Today, we take back our power. Today, the Lichtensteins fall!"

A cheer rose from the rebels, though it was laced with nervous energy. Salene quickly outlined their next move. She knew that once the attack began, the household would be alerted.

They had to strike hard and fast. The tension in the air thickened as final preparations were made, weapons sharpened, and strategies whispered among small groups.

Shin extended his hand toward her. "From this point on, we go our separate ways. I have other people to free."

She eyed his hand for a moment before shaking it. "Best of luck to you, Gitsunae."

He smirked. "And to you, hero."

With that, they parted. Salene continued her mission to liberate the other guardhouses while Shin made his way toward the servants' quarters.

Then, chaos erupted.

The household's tranquility shattered as alarm bells rang through the halls. Guards scrambled to their posts, completely unprepared for the rebellion unfolding within their walls.

They had never expected this. They believed their people were too afraid to rise against them. But fear had turned to fury, and now, they paid the price.

Blood splattered against stone walls as nobles and guards alike met their end. The Lichtensteins, caught off guard, scrambled to gather their most loyal warriors.

Chaos erupted as desperate orders were shouted across the manor. Clad in their polished armor, elite guards rushed into the fray, attempting to restore order.

Some of the more disciplined soldiers formed defensive lines, shields locked, hoping to push back the rebels. Arrows were loosed from the upper balconies, raining down on both sides, striking friend and foe alike.

Despite their training, the loyalists were overwhelmed. Their numbers thinned too quickly, their coordination faltering under the sheer ferocity of the uprising.

The rebels fought like demons, their rage making them relentless. Each fallen ally fueled their wrath, each spilled drop of noble blood a symbol of long-awaited justice.

A unit of guards attempted to barricade the grand hall, forming a desperate last stand. Their swords clashed against the rebels' makeshift weapons—kitchen knives, farming tools, looted swords—but their willpower crumbled as the resistance surged forward. One by one, they fell, their cries drowned beneath the roar of rebellion.

The household had descended into a full-scale civil war, and there would be no turning back. Amidst the chaos, Salene led the charge, her heart pounding as the thrill of battle coursed through her veins. Each strike, each fallen foe, fueled something deep within her, justice, vengeance, or perhaps something far more primal.

Her once-calm mind became intoxicated by the rush, the cries of the dying blending into a twisted symphony of liberation. She had dreamed of this moment, of punishing those who had tormented them for so long, and now that the dream had become reality, she found it impossible to stop. She relished the power, the sight of their oppressors crumbling before her, their fear now mirroring what she had endured for years.

Her hands, slick with blood, trembled, not with hesitation, but with exhilaration. This was justice. This was retribution. And she would not stop until every last one of them had paid the price.

Through the din of battle, cries echoed, not borrowed from another land, but birthed from the depths of their own suffering. These were not the words of past revolutions, they had lived this, endured this, and now, they spoke from the fire in their souls.

Salene raised her sword high, her voice ringing out above the chaos. "Liberty! Equality! Fraternity!" she bellowed, her words carrying across the battlefield like a battle hymn.

The rebels, fueled by her cry, roared in unison, their voices merging into an unstoppable force. They were no longer prisoners, no longer slaves to fear. They were warriors, reclaiming their dignity, their justice, and their vengeance.

The walls of the manor trembled under the weight of their defiance as they surged forward, unstoppable, unbreakable.