Chapter 403: Hobert's Troubles
The nobles who came from the Woodlands stayed in the Doyle Territory for three days.
Those three days passed quietly. The only notable event was that these nobles were separated from their armies and brought into Julian's camp.
On the fourth day, they finally exited Julian’s command tent, barely able to stand from hunger, but at least they were still whole.
Upon exiting, Marquis Shalier immediately issued a statement:
'Bandits invaded my territory, and my liege failed to protect me. I had no choice but to seek aid. Thus, I came to Greenwood and requested help from the Kingdom of Lundex, and the merciful Kingdom of Lundex has agreed to grant me protection.'
And so, Julian reorganized the army that had come to Doyle Territory to quell the rebellion. He led them, along with Marquis Shalier and the noble armies under his command, back to the Woodlands to eliminate those 'bandits' capable of expelling a marquis family with a thousand-year legacy.
Though these so-called bandits were, in fact, local gentry from the Woodlands.
"A war soaked in blood and cruelty is the only path to establishing political relations." This was what Scholar Caleb had said before departing for the Hall of Heroes—a phrase known to every member of the Senate.
Now, to officially reclaim the lands that originally belonged to Marquis Shalier—lands currently unclaimed—before they became royal territory, enemies had to be slain.
The gentry who hadn't been taken away were naturally made into those 'bandits.'
As for Marquis Shalier and his men, they were settled in the territories of the rebellious nobles who had been executed within the Diocese of Doyle.
Of course, before that, they had to make a trip to the Senate and swear their loyalty to the King of Lundex.
Surely, the officials who had come ahead of them had already pacified this land.
As the protected party, they had no choice but to accept the policies of Lundex over the region—especially those already enacted.
After Marquis Shalier's forces left, Gregor made his move.
He gathered all knights in Doyle City not affiliated with the Church and conscripted five hundred sturdy adult males. These men were equipped with simple half-leather armor and spears, then sent off to war.
These men were more for show and scouting. The true fighting force consisted of the last two knights of Doyle—Knight Edwin and Knight Kelton—along with four Tier Four knights within the city.
This made six knights in total, along with more than ten squires—enough for Gregor to use.
Yet he often stayed in his tent, weeping.
The once hundred-strong Doyle Knight Order was gone. Now, he had to march into battle with only this handful of men.
At first, Camilla tried to console him. Eventually, she simply ignored him.
Still, with even this force, it was easy enough to eliminate the remnants of noble families whose main power had already perished, as listed on the scrolls.
Especially after subduing the vassal nobles within Doyle Territory—territory nominally belonging to Gregor—his forces now included over ten knights and seven hundred warriors of Tier Two and above.
Though that number still seemed pitiful to Gregor, it was enough to eliminate one remnant noble family per day.
Naturally, no matter how many they killed, it was never enough. The first thing nobles did once they regained the ability to reproduce was have children.
Five to seven legitimate heirs were normal. As for illegitimate offspring used as backups, having more than ten was not unusual—they didn’t even need to be raised at home.
Even the least prolific nobles in the Senate, like Councilor Julian, had three legitimate sons and five bastards.
So it wasn’t necessary to be too thorough—killing the legitimate bloodlines was sufficient.
Besides, the surviving bastards helped improve the region’s bloodline.
Even with the Lord’s Gift, commoners freshly awakened from Lucid Dreams could not compare to highborn nobles who had refined their bloodlines through generations of marriage alliances.
Gregor’s slaughter made the other nobles anxious. They constantly sent envoys bearing gifts to the Senate, hoping to show their loyalty.
These surviving nobles weren’t fools. They understood that for someone like Gregor—a marquis—to act in such an orderly fashion, he had to be executing the Senate’s will.
To nobles educated with public monastery texts and beginning to understand politics, the question of rebellion was irrelevant. They saw the true nature of the event: the Senate was purging dissenters.
They believed that, since they hadn’t participated, they were innocent.
But the Senate might not see it that way. And who knew if that fool of a marquis, Gregor, wouldn’t start executing 'good' nobles just to vent over his fallen Knight Order becoming the latest joke among bards?
So, they did what was necessary—pledging loyalty to the Senate.
At the same time, they scrambled to purchase a supposed list of targeted nobles, supposedly obtained by some thief.
The Thieves' Guild was under Councilor Hastings’ control. Maybe the Senate had leaked the list. Or maybe Hastings was just looking for a payday.
Either way, the nobles paid a hefty sum without argument.
Those who didn’t see their names on the list let out a relieved sigh.
"It’s not me."
...
Baron Hobert had been uneasy of late.
From the illegitimate son of a gentry family, mocked by others, to a mercenary, then rising to become a landed baron—he had every reason to be proud.
This was a single generation achieving what took dozens in the past.
But he didn’t get to enjoy that pride for long. He soon heard that Aen, the merchant, had become the King of the North.
Suddenly, the man once celebrated by commoners was forgotten.
After all, a commoner becoming a baron couldn’t compare to one becoming a king. The latter tale was far more legendary and beloved—especially by commoners and free mercenaries.
Hobert couldn’t bear it.
It wasn’t just the stolen glory—he knew his foundation was built on mercenaries.
The nobles had no intention of accepting a lucky upstart like him.
In the Senate, he was treated as nothing more than a useful hound.
Thus, his only real followers were the mercenaries who revered him.
After the Eastern Campaign, Greenwood’s nobles were struggling—especially in lands ravaged by fishmen.
Old noble families had reserves to draw on. Hobert had none.
He could’ve used his original family’s help.
But he had killed the envoy they sent.
He knew how troublesome gentry could be. Even when he was serving Puniel like a dog, he hadn’t used their resources. Now that he was a noble, why should they benefit?
And the wealth those mere gentry had was nothing compared to an entire barony.
Better to solidify his status:
A commoner turned mercenary, elevated to nobility through merit.
With this story, his territory’s military quickly grew. Those who revered him were even willing to work for meager wages.
And with an army, ruling the land became easy.
But now that Aen had risen, Hobert no longer felt special.
He sensed disloyalty among his followers.
They even dared to demand higher pay!
So, in the year Aen became Supreme King of the North, Hobert was deeply unsettled.
But by the second year of the New Testament Era, he felt reassured.
He had obtained a Holy Relic.
A commoner had found it while clearing land. Impressed by its craftsmanship, the man offered it to Hobert.
Hobert, in his 'generosity', rewarded him with two York silver coins.
The man had the gall to say it wasn’t enough and asked for ten York gold coins.
Hobert was furious. He was a noble baron, the man’s lord. He had recognized the man’s loyalty with silver—and the man had repaid him with disrespect!
So Hobert slaughtered the man’s entire family.
Only later did he realize it was indeed a Holy Relic—perhaps from a noble killed by fishmen. Those fools wouldn’t have recognized its value.
He greedily justified his fortune.
It was a Holy Relic!
He discovered it allowed him to see people’s emotions.
Those who radiated gray-white felt reverence.
Red meant anger.
Orange-yellow meant jealousy.
Black meant malice.
With this power, he saw that many once-loyal followers now glowed with jealousy.
So, smiling outwardly, he secretly purged them, replacing them with only those who radiated gray-white.
Their deference reassured him—finally, he was surrounded by trustworthy people.
And yet, he was uneasy again.
He saw bards.
They radiated only black.
He was furious. He wanted to kill them.
But they weren’t mere commoners. They came from minor noble families, had graduated from monasteries, and were now under the Bard Guild—servants of the Senate.
He could only cautiously guard against them.
When he realized they were goading him into joining Gregor’s rebellion, he decisively refused to participate.