Chapter 24
The baron's eyes gleamed with a menacing light. Of course, a greedy and selfish man like him had little concern for the safety of individual territory residents. Still, the territory remained the foundation of what little power he still held.
Making an example of one or two villagers was one matter. But if the entire territory were devastated, the privileges he enjoyed would sink alongside it. Selfish though he was, Galois was cunning enough to recognize this truth.
"Of course, I've no intention of provoking unnecessary conflict. That would hardly benefit Etalon either."
Mia stared unblinking into the baron's eyes as she spoke. Her crimson pupils, glowing like the light that had engulfed his mansion the previous night, posed a greater threat than any shouted invective.
"But your current demeanor makes it difficult to trust that force won't be required."
"...Trust?"
The baron sneered the word.
"Since when are we on terms to discuss trust? I've seen your contempt clearly these past days. After orchestrating this farce, you still presume to play the merciful liege?"
Mia's lips twitched in amusement.
"What gain would I find in mercy? You've committed unforgivable offenses yet retain remarkable audacity."
Her light tone belied the steel beneath. The unspoken command hung clear: Remember your transgressions. Submit now.
The baron's silence stretched. Under different circumstances, he might have sought escape. But surrounded by Etalon's Holy Knights, his crumbling mansion offered no exit. Glen's rural militia stood no chance against the empire's elite forces.
Three occupants overcrowded the baron's shabby parlor—or so it felt to Galois. The two enemy officers' presence seemed to expand beyond the room's confines, pressing against his ribs.
Rufus Galois had never considered himself faint-hearted. Yet in this moment, he acutely felt his inadequacy.
"But why require me?"
The trembling query was theater—a flawless performance of submission.
Mia's cold smile held disappointment. She'd thought him cleverer, this man who'd displayed capabilities beyond his station. Yet here he quivered while posing the most obvious question.
"You lack standing for such inquiries."
The baron squirmed under her unrelenting gaze. Their verbal duel continued, his desperate pretense of ignorance regarding shadowy benefactors growing increasingly threadbare.
"I know nothing! I was unaware of any horrors in my territory! Though greed blinded me to offend you, I swear no evil schemes—"
"..."
"I'll cooperate! Any proposal, any demand! Only believe me!"
"..."
He seemed poised to beg "Spare my lands..." but Mia's silence dared him to continue. When the baron finally cracked, his addendum came tremulous:
"...I merely followed orders."
Mia snorted. As if such excuses held weight.
"Must I reiterate that my commands aren't suggestions?"
The baron's rigid silence betrayed his clinging pride. Mia suppressed derision—what use was dignity when everything hung in the balance?
"Moreover, Rufus—your personal motives hold no interest for me."
"W-what? But—"
"Only your conspirators' intentions matter."
"You witnessed their power! How can I betray them with my family's lives at stake? My deceased wife... my son I've never held... even my daughter hides in her chambers..."
The baron's monotone plea rang hollow. Mia had seen his "terrifying" allies—mediocrites easily subdued without divine aid. Pathetic excuses from one shirking responsibility.
More laughable still—Rufus maintained no true bond with these human shields. Chloe's presence proved it. Yet he persisted in this sympathy pantomime.
Light laughter rippled through the room.
"You misunderstand, Rufus. When did I request betrayal?"
Confusion twisted the baron's features—had he misread her intent?
"I... don't comprehend."
"Simply report everything witnessed. Including last night's troubling crimson glow."
"..."
The baron searched Mia's face. Could salvation be so simple?
"Ah, but that's not all. You'll convey one additional message."
"...What message?"
The baron's anxious interjection confirmed his lingering allegiance.
"That the light's source has razed Glen and marches toward Raven."
"You'd have me reveal your position?!"
Rufus Galois remained oblivious—his reaction alone confirmed collusion with external forces. The disbelief coloring his voice betrayed him still.
"Indeed. But heed this—should any learn you were coached..."
Some threats required no completion. The baron nodded vigorously.
"Of course! Absolutely!"
"Can you act?"
"Eh? I-I've never... If required, I could practice..."
"Can you practice now?"
"Y-yes."
Mia smirked at the flustered girl. Chloe's blind obedience held naive charm.
"Then follow silently. Maintain a wretched expression—I'll handle the rest."
Mia strode out, the hesitating girl trailing behind.
Before the mansion, the baron's "reclusive daughter" stood captive in a Holy Knight's grip. Her father scrambled after them, desperation etched in every gesture.
"Spare Chloe! What crime has my child committed? You've taken everything—must you steal my last joy?!"
Mia nearly laughed. "Last joy"? Servants' gossip told truer tales—of political marriages schemed, not paternal devotion.
"After your transgressions, you expected trust without collateral?"
"I deeply regret my disrespectful words—"
"True remorse would silence such pleas, Rufus."
"..."
"Moreover, we both know your crimes extend beyond mere insults."
"Your Grace, I don't—"
"Shall I list charges before your vassals?"
The baron's jaw snapped shut. Public exposure of his poison plot against enemy forces would prove... inconvenient.
Tears streamed down his cheeks—calculated despair, wasted on Mia's absent mercy.
"Your daughter remains safest with me. Happier, perhaps, than under your... care. Provided you keep our accord."
