Monarch of Death

Chapter 32



Chapter 32. Ranpelt Mansion

The night streets of Trist City were shrouded in thick fog.

Five men were running through the alleys. Clad in leather armor, armed with daggers, and their faces concealed by masks, they appeared to be typical thieves.

“Hurry up. We need to keep to the schedule.”

“Yes, brother.”

Despite their severely limited visibility, their movements were unhesitant.

It seemed they were familiar with the layout of the city, as they navigated through the fog and the darkness of the night without the aid of any light sources like torches.

Soon, the men arrived near a large mansion. The mansion was so vast that the ends of the walls stretched into the fog, obscuring them from view.

One of the men, who had been surveying the inside, muttered nervously.

“The security is just as tight as expected.”

The building itself was quite elegant and antiquated. It had originally been the mansion of the Earl of Trist, so it was fitting.

However, the Ranpelt family, who had taken over the place, had turned the once elegant noble residence into a menacing thieves’ stronghold.

Where beautiful rose vines should have gracefully climbed the walls, sharp blades and broken glass were embedded instead, guarding against even the smallest intruders.

The once refined garden trees had been severely pruned, and makeshift watchtowers had been erected on them, where guards with crossbows were stationed.

The once splendid, noble-style garden had been completely uprooted. All the decorative trees had been cleared away, turning the area into a training ground.

This was a measure to ensure that nothing could obstruct their line of sight.

One of the men let out a sigh.

“Attacking this place… No sane person would ever attempt it, right?”

Another man responded with a scolding tone.

“We’re not being asked to climb over the walls, are we? Our job is just to create as much chaos as possible.”

Of course, even that would require risking their lives, but they had already steeled themselves for this.

These men were all survivors of the Flad family, who had lost their families and comrades to the Ranpelt family.

The new head of the family, Sildera, had gathered the remaining twenty elite members of the family and said:

“The night of revenge has come.”

She didn’t explain the detailed plan. The gathered men didn’t try to ask, either.

They were all seasoned enough to know that the more people who knew the plan, the higher the chance of failure.

They just trusted the head of the family and followed the plan. And they hoped that the plan she had devised would prove to be effective.

Hiding in the shadows, they continued to wait.

The fog was so thick that it was difficult to determine the position of the moon, and the church bells didn’t toll at this late hour.

The only way to gauge the time was through their own senses.

“Alright, by now, everyone should be in position.”

A middle-aged man gestured with his hand.

“Begin.”

Another man pulled out a bottle from his coat. It was a Molotov cocktail filled with oil.

“Those vile Ranpelt bastards…”

With a triumphant smile, he lit the bottle and threw it.

“Take this, you scum!”

With a loud crash, flames erupted. Chaos ensued within the walls.

“Attack!”

“Everyone, to your positions!”

***

No matter how strong Karnak and his party were, charging head-on into the enemy’s stronghold was a risky move.

That’s why Alius had involved the Flad family.

The plan was a diversionary tactic: decoy forces would cause disturbances on all sides, creating an opening to infiltrate the interior.

“Honestly, I was disappointed to hear there were only twenty of them…”

Observing the situation, Karnak’s expression showed a hint of surprise.

“They’re doing much better than I expected.”

Disturbances were erupting on all sides of the Ranpelt mansion—east, west, south, and north.

Masked men were continuously hurling Molotov cocktails and shooting flaming arrows.

Their targets were the wooden watchtowers.

As expected, they weren’t built to withstand much, so the flames quickly surged.

And just as quickly, they were extinguished.

“Hmph! Did you really think we wouldn’t be prepared for something like this?”

It was common sense to place magical barriers around key locations to prevent fires.

The Ranpelt mansion even had a resident 3rd Circle mage, so it wasn’t possible to set fires with mere Molotov cocktails.

But that didn’t matter.

What was important wasn’t starting a fire but the mere fact that they had tried.

“Who dares!”

“We’ll show them the power of Ranpelt!”

Armed troops soon poured out from various parts of the mansion.

They had taken control of the city and were now in a position of victory. Even the most insignificant soldiers were brimming with arrogance.

Of course, that didn’t mean they were particularly disciplined. About half of them had flushed faces, drunk on alcohol.

“Ah, damn! Who the hell is causing trouble while I’m in the middle of a good drink?”

If they had been diligent people, they wouldn’t be here in the first place. These were back-alley lives that had drifted this far due to their inherently debauched lifestyles.

But surprisingly, even in their drunken state, they were able to put up quite a fight.

“Ugh! You bastards!”

“I’ll kill you!”

If a seasoned warrior is someone who constantly hones themselves and maintains peak physical condition through restraint, then a seasoned rogue is someone who, even while drunk and staggering, can snap to attention and fight when the situation demands it.

Despite being intoxicated, they all managed to engage in battle.

“Die, you scum!”

“You’re the ones who’ll die! Filthy Ranpelt dogs!”

The clash quickly escalated into a fierce battle.

The sounds of spears and swords clashing, screams, groans, shouts, and wails filled the night fog.

“Uwaaah!”

“Take this!”

All of this was reflected on a large water surface. It was Riltein’s *Far Sight Water Mirror* magic.

Karnak and his party were currently hiding on the rooftop of a three-story building a block away from the Ranpelt mansion. From there, they were observing the overall situation.

Serati clicked her tongue.

“Tsk, tsk. Not a single one of them seems to know how to properly wield a sword.”

Varos shrugged his shoulders.

“To be honest, they’re still stronger than most soldiers. They may seem insignificant to an Aura user like you, but…”

“It’s not that I’m trying to brag…”

The ones who had rushed out were holding their own against the attackers from the Flad family.

Given that their numbers were nearly three times greater, the fact that they were only managing this much meant that their skills were lacking.

“If they’re at that level, it means this isn’t the true strength of the Ranpelt family. It looks like they don’t intend to deploy their necromancer.”

“Things never go that smoothly, do they? Even just avoiding unnecessary exhaustion is a big help.”

Thanks to the Flad family, they could head directly into the mansion. Expecting more would be greedy.

Alius stood up and continued.

“We’ll have to draw out the real target ourselves.”

***

While chaos reigned on all sides of the Ranpelt mansion, Karnak and his party aimed for the gap in between.

Using Riltein’s *Levitation* magic, they easily scaled the walls. An empty garden immediately came into view.

Under normal circumstances, there should have been guards patrolling this area as well, but…

“No one’s here,” Riltein remarked.

Karnak responded, unsurprised.

“They’ve probably all gone over there.”

Expecting them to steadfastly maintain their positions even while a battle raged nearby? That was something you might see in a well-disciplined military camp, not in a back-alley brawl like this.

The group quickly crossed the garden.

When they reached the front of the mansion, waiting guards finally emerged.

“Hmph!”

“We were expecting you!”

“They must be the bait.”

Their armor alone set them apart. They were equipped with proper metal armor, wielding longswords and shields.

They looked every bit like regular knights.

Glaring at Karnak and his group, the guards each made a comment.

“Where are you lot from? Velen? Kala? Stile?”

“Maybe Flad?”

“Ha, that place has already been wiped out, hasn’t it?”

There were so many enemies that it seemed they had too many possible guesses about where Karnak’s group might be from.

Watching the wary soldiers maintain their distance, Alius smirked slightly.

“Judging by their reaction and their gear, these must be the real elite troops.”

If even these soldiers were defeated, the necromancer would have no choice but to intervene.

Riltein stepped forward, gripping his magical wand.

“Shall we start with a little greeting?”

Flames ignited, wrapping around the wand.

Seeing the signs, the Ranpelt soldiers panicked and shouted.

“A mage!”

“Scatter!”

A large fireball shot through the air. It exploded with a deafening roar that shook the ground.

**BOOM!**

The flames surged, the heat boiling the air. Even if they managed to dodge it, the impact alone was powerful enough to cause serious injury.

However, no one fell.

“Damn it!”

“Who’s going to get hit by such a slow spell?”

The moment the fireball exploded, the soldiers had thrown themselves to the ground, minimizing the damage by lying flat.

With the protection of their thick armor, they avoided fatal injuries as long as they didn’t take a direct hit.

These soldiers were clearly seasoned, showing familiarity even with magic.

But Riltein was just as experienced.

“I figured you’d do that.”

He had anticipated the attack might miss and had already prepared his next move.

“Roar of the dark clouds, flow through the earth! *Chain Lightning!*”

A web of electricity surged across the garden, crackling with energy.

The soldiers gasped as they saw the incoming lightning.

“Gah!”

“Another spell?”

They had only ever seen 2nd or 3rd Circle mages, so they hadn’t expected such a rapid succession of spells. They had never experienced magic being cast this quickly.

Four soldiers, unable to dodge in time, were caught in the electrifying attack. Screams erupted from all directions.

“Aaaargh!”

“Gaaah!”

Someone shouted orders.

“Take down the others! If we close in, the mage can’t use his spells freely!”

Leaving their fallen comrades behind, the remaining soldiers charged in unison.

Battle cries echoed as they tried to boost their morale.

“Don’t be afraid!”

“There are only five of them!”

Serati stepped forward lightly.

“Then I’ll go first.”

Her longsword slid smoothly from its sheath, the blade enveloped in a crimson glow.

A sinister red flash cleaved through the two leading soldiers.

**Shing!**

The sword, the shield, and even the armor—everything was cut through in a single stroke by the blood-red blade.

Ranpelt’s once-valiant elite troops were now nothing more than dismembered pieces of flesh, spraying blood in all directions. The gruesome sight was more than enough to halt the advancing soldiers in their tracks.

“Ugh! That light….”

“A battle aura sword?”

In shock, the soldiers staggered backward.

“An Aura user?”

“Wait, why would an Aura user be here of all places?”

Trist City might have been known as a city of sin or a hell on earth, but it was still considered a remote backwater.

Aura users typically moved in higher circles, often in the royal capital or other significant cities, rather than in such a rural area.

A man who seemed to be the leader shouted to those around him.

“What’s the big deal about an Aura user?”

Pointing at Serati’s sword, he raised his voice, trying to muster some confidence.

“There’s no need to fear! It’s just at the red level!”

The level of an Aura user could be judged by the color of their battle aura.

Serati’s aura glowed red, indicating that she was at the lowest tier among Aura users.

Of course, that didn’t mean she was to be underestimated.

Some of the more experienced soldiers couldn’t help but feel incredulous as they stepped back.

‘Just at the red level…?’

‘Sure, it’s a red aura, but…’

‘It’s still a battle aura sword!’

‘What difference does it make if she’s the weakest among Aura users?’

It was like saying:

– “She’s not a tiger, she’s just a leopard! Don’t be scared!”

But to these men, who were like mere cats, what difference did it make whether they faced a tiger or a leopard? Either way, a single bite would be fatal.

However, not all of the soldiers at Ranpelt Mansion were as seasoned. For the younger, more hot-blooded ones, this slight reassurance was enough to boost their morale.

“Damn it!”

“Yeah, what’s so special about an Aura user?”

“Reinforcements will be here soon!”

“You think we can’t hold out until then?”

With angry shouts, the soldiers began to charge at Serati.

Gripping her sword more firmly, she gave a cold smile.

‘Hah! Do you think you can hold out?’

Sorry, but she had no intention of holding back.

These soldiers needed to be utterly crushed to wake the Ranpelt forces from their complacency and force them to bring out their hidden necromancer.

Serati lightly pushed off the ground.

As she soared through the air like a bird, red flashes of her battle aura scattered around her.

“Take this!”


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