Steel and Mana

Chapter 197 – Rebellious Baron (2)

Chapter 197 – Rebellious Baron (2)

At the border, within a makeshift wooden shack, Levy was sitting beside a bottle of half-drunk ale, sighing, listening to the outside ruckus, knowing it was the noise of the gathering of warriors. He knew these types of commotions well and realized that whatever happens next, he may be nothing more than a traitor in everyone's eyes. He only hoped that his decision was correct and he could save what little remains of their name and rank. As for whether they would remain barons? Probably not; he had already concluded that in his mind. He only hoped their bloodline would survive and not disappear in the aftermath of this foolish endeavor. Amongst his depressed thoughts, the earth suddenly shook. At first, he thought it was his heartbeat that was simply too loud, but then it happened again. And again. And again.

"What's this...?" he mumbled, finally realizing it wasn't an illusion or something he had imagined. Then, the soldiers shouted as if their General had arrived, cheering with great zeal. What was happening?

"Stand back! Clear the way!"

Hearing the orders, he wondered if someone important had indeed arrived, but before he could go out and check, a demonic roar made him fall and land between the table and his chair.

"Watch out, the trees are in the way. I'm going to remove them!"

The voice, for sure, belonged to a monster. A demon. That was not something a human would make or sound like, and it was deafening. Then, it was followed by the creaking and cracking of the trees. He could picture in his head how that... something, whatever it was, was tearing down everything in his way. Finally, after climbing back up, he managed to stumble out from his shack to see a massive machine come through the treeline, stepping and tearing down trees to make way for itself, uprooting them by hand.

"What in the Gods' name is that?" He asked, gawking, forgetting to breathe, thinking the ale might be too strong to be already drunk, and seeing things so early in the morning.

"That's the Lion." a soldier standing guard at his shack answered, his helmet's vizor lifted, letting Levy see his proud expression. "It is the Godmachine our Sovereign has brought to life. It has been holding back the beasts every winter; without it, we would be already dead. You are in the presence of Avalon's might, Baron Levy Tobrok."

"That is... a machine? That can't be... Machines are not like that!" He stuttered, making his guard laugh, looking down on him in a literal sense.

"It is a machine piloted by Lord Kalash, our Sovereign's father. We will put down this rebellion quickly because soon winter will arrive, and we don't have time to play around with you all."

"Play around..." He whispered, feeling his stomach turning, the alcohol wanting to come back up as he watched the machine stop, glinting in the autumn sunshine, its blue and golden paint job shining blindingly. "We are doomed..."

...

....

.....

"Lord." Oleg saluted, making Kalash laugh, shaking his head and then his old soldier's hand.

"You are now going to command me too, General."

"I wouldn't dare." He smiled at him as once, he was but Kalash's soldier, assigned to protect his son. "Let's start this meeting!" He clapped, looking at all the majors and captains present in their new command center, which, for now, was just a massive tent.

There were people like him, muscular, tall, elite troopers of Avalon, contrasting the regular soldiers from Elliot's army. While the former wore their official military uniforms, looking like elegant nobles in their black and gold 'suits,' along with their ranks displayed on their shoulders, Elliot's soldiers were much more varied and free in their dress codes. They were still bringing their best looks forward, being at least on the rank of knights, the lowest possible, officially acknowledged nobles, yet they couldn't feel but be dwarfed besides their compatriots. Be it both in stature or appearance. Yet, they were not the most nervous person present. That unfortunate tile belonged to Levy, who was invited to witness their gathering.

"Our scouts already confirmed the enemy locations visually and reported back via our radio channels." Oleg started, listing it for the people present, putting pins onto the map laid out on the table they were surrounding. "Their composition is as follows: We surveyed approximately 3,500 infantry troops. From that, two-thirds are heavy and light infantry with spears, swords, and shields, while the rest are archers. They also amassed a thousand soul-strong cavalry. Our reports say they are a mix of heavy and light cavalry troops, the former wearing plate armor."

"Drunk on power..." She moaned, thinking that while she was away for a few weeks, they probably got addicted to being the ones in charge. "I just never thought you were this stupid!" She cried out, swinging her bottle and pouring the red wine straight down her throat. "You idiots! This is not a game that, if you lose, you will end up grounded! You will end up in the ground!"

No matter how much she hated the fact that all her sons were incompetent, self-absorbed, or egotistical, they were still her sons. No mother would want to see her sons die... She was about to take another swing when the door opened, and Pion walked in, wearing his military uniform, looking untroubled, calm, and collected as if nothing was happening.

"My scouts confirmed it; they amassed an army and began moving. We are pulling everybody back into the city and closing the gates. Well, not we but your loyal soldiers. Meanwhile, my comrades and Polo are looking for possible rebels inside, imprisoning them in your dungeons."

"You should have left..."

"And miss the fun?" He chuckled, going to the open cabinet, picking out a new bottle, and pulling the cork out with a loud pop. "Lady Zimmermann, this is not my first time being trapped inside an occupied city. I had worse."

"You did?" she asked again, sitting up, trying to present herself in a more acceptable position. While waiting for his answer, she finished her bottle and watched as Pion swung his own before passing it over to her, which surprised the Countess. "I thought you would tell me to stop drinking."

"Drink if you want; there is nothing to do yet. I would say that only if they arrived before you would have a chance to sober up."

"You are surprisingly confident!" She chuckled in a sad tone, taking the bottle and watching him while guzzling down the wine.

"I am Major Pion from Avalon. No soldiers from Avalon will fear their enemy, man or beast; it doesn't matter. When we sign up, we take an oath. We are to serve Avalon with our lives as long as we are its soldiers. It is our duty, and our duty only ends when Death claims our souls."

"You got brainwashed hard... didn't you?" She chortled, standing up but barely able to stand still, swaying heavily. "God, you are a sexy hunk of guy, Major Pion!"

"..." Ultimately, Pion didn't know what to say to that because it was his first time dealing with a drunk woman, who then took a tumble, landing on him. "I think you should lie down, Countess."

"Yeah... Good idea..." she giggled, slipping her hands under Pion's clothes. "Let's lie down, Major~ Hehehehe... I need that confidence boost! Give me some of your confidence-seed!" Matilda added while softly gulping back a burp.

"Damn... this was never in any of our training..." Pion muttered, not knowing where to grab the drunk Countess, who noticed his hesitation. Happily laughing, she grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands onto her butt.

"Fufufu... I can train you, big guy... I just..." But she couldn't finish as something churned in her stomach, causing her to throw up the wine she drank before, right on Pion's chest and groin before she had a chance to do anything to prevent it. "Ah..." With a flinch, she just looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears, face blushing, lips still stained, unable to think of anything to say.

"Haaah... Let's go to the bathroom. Don't worry, Lady Zimmermann... My lips are sealed."

"..."

"Try to keep yours sealed, too, while we walk." he added while holding her up with one hand. The wasted noblewoman tried to obey, holding her mouth with her hands, nodding like an obedient kitten carried by its mother, trying not to sob too loudly.