CHAPTER 533: REBELLION

TL: Rui88

The distant sky was painted with vast sunset clouds. The western sun had mostly sunk, but its afterglow still dyed the forest a golden hue.

By a small river, Ferguson silently cleaned a disemboweled deer. Dark red blood flowed into the river and was washed away by the rushing water.

Holding a sharp knife, Ferguson carefully peeled the deerskin away from the flesh, bit by bit. He was completely focused, as if nothing else in the world mattered more than the deer before him.

“You’re certainly in a leisurely mood, Lord Ferguson.”

A low voice came from behind him.

Interrupted, Ferguson replied with displeasure, “When hunting, the moment before you release the arrow is when you must show no sign, lest the prey becomes alert. Wouldn’t you agree, Lord Warren?”

The man standing behind him…Lord Dimitri Warren…clapped his hands lightly and laughed.

“Haha, you’re right. As expected of a knight of the Grayman family.”

It was unclear whether he was mocking Ferguson or Paul, or perhaps both.

While these two spoke lightly, the third person present was extremely nervous. Chakon Warren, old Warren’s second son, gripped the sword at his waist so tightly that his palm began to sweat. His eyes darted around nervously, and a scene repeatedly played out in his mind…a large number of the lord’s guards suddenly appearing from the bushes, shouting, “You damned rebels,” and rushing forward to hack them to pieces.

“Un… Uncle Ferguson, that…” he began hesitantly.

“Chakon, if you have any doubts, just ask frankly,” old Warren said.

“Lord Ferguson has a busy night ahead of him.”

“That… cough, that…” Chakon blushed and said softly, “When we make our move tonight, can we avoid hurting Miss Sertia? We are all righteous men who follow the code of chivalry. It’s not right to harm women and children.”

Ferguson turned around, looking at Chakon with an expression of disbelief, and then burst into loud laughter.

“Keep it down, don’t let anyone notice us!”

Chakon reminded Ferguson with a look of terror.

Ferguson wiped the corner of his mouth with his hand. “Lord Warren, your son is truly eager to protect the fair maiden. So chivalrous. It’s all thanks to your excellent upbringing.”

Old Warren’s face turned almost beet red. He had never imagined that his son would still be thinking about women at a time like this. He should have made the boy shut up just now.

“You scoundrel! You lecher!” Old Warren was furious. He raised his cane and struck his second son fiercely.

“You’ve utterly disgraced me! Get out of my sight.”

Chakon, having been beaten, looked dejected but did not dare to resist his father, who was incredibly stern in his eyes. He could only retreat wretchedly into the woods.

Yesterday, when he had followed Ferguson to welcome the lord, he had seen the lady by the lord’s side and was instantly smitten. Suddenly, he had one more reason to kill Paul Grayman. The thought that such a beauty would be harmed by their actions caused him immense pain, a real, physical heartache. It was such a waste of a heavenly creation.

A tall figure, fair skin, a neck like a swan, an elegant and beautiful posture…all the words Chakon could think of to describe a beautiful woman’s appearance seemed to fit Miss Sertia perfectly, leaving the country girls he usually saw in the dust.

Especially at the banquet yesterday, her poised demeanor combined with her proud and cold expression had completely stunned Chakon, who was seeing such a wonderful combination for the first time. His heart pounded wildly.

I must have this great beauty!

A voice repeatedly shouted in his mind, making his soul tremble again and again.

“A scoundrel obsessed with women!”

Old Warren, who remained by the small river, was still fuming, continuing to curse the son who had embarrassed him.

“Alright, alright, he’s just a young man!”

Ferguson, standing to the side, seemed to be both consoling and mocking. “Weren’t we also thinking about women all day when we were young? Just remind him later not to mess up the important business. As for that… that Miss Sertia, I heard she’s an official under the lord, in charge of education. She’s no ordinary woman.”

The flush on old Warren’s face subsided a little, and he said coldly, “Hmph! What’s the difference between letting a mistress be an official and letting a hen crow? Paul Grayman is quite an absurd lord. Our uprising is to restore order and uphold morality.”

He had long since decided that the beautiful woman was Paul’s mistress. As for what his reasoning was based on… did he even need to reason? Wasn’t it obvious? Which noble didn’t have a beautiful “pet” in his hands?

In his heart, the current Lakeheart Town had already become a place of depravity. This could be seen from the matter of a mistress being an official. All sorts of immoral things must be rampant in that domain, which was already shrouded in darkness.

Old Warren increasingly felt that what he was doing was just, that he was striving to restore the purity and beauty of Alda. Yes! The great Heavenly Father must be guiding him to do this in the unseen. The current Paul Grayman had long since fallen and become a puppet of the devil. He was crusading against the enemy of the Heavenly Father.

This repeated mental reinforcement had left Lord Dimitri Warren with no sense of guilt at all; instead, he was brimming with a sense of justice.

“Actually, if your son wants her,” Ferguson said with a smile, “I can have the men involved in tonight’s action be careful not to hurt that little canary.”

“No need!” Lord Warren refused in a stiff tone.

Sigh, if only this second son of his was half as outstanding as his older brother, how relieved he would be.

“As for you… can you ensure that tonight’s operation will be foolproof?”

Warren looked at Ferguson with some suspicion.

“We are gambling, and is there ever a sure thing in gambling?”

Ferguson was very frank.

“If we fail, then we’ll have to resort to the final method.”

Ferguson looked at the forest by the river. “Sigh, if it really comes to that, what a pity for this forest reserve. It’s a good place for hunting.”

“Trees can grow back if they’re gone,” old Warren reminded him. “This is our only chance.”

“You don’t need to tell me. I know what’s at stake.”

They had considered several plans on how to deal with the lord.

The first choice was poison, to poison Paul’s food while he was eating and drinking at the banquet.

But they had not expected Paul to bring a full fifty guards with him. If they succeeded with poison, what about these fifty guards? Kill them all? Not to mention whether they could kill them all without letting a single one escape, his own manor was right in the village. What a huge commotion that would cause.

They were all respectable people, how could they be branded as regicides? At the very least… at the very least… they couldn’t leave any grounds for gossip.

At the time, Ferguson had marveled at Captain Victor’s caution. Russ Hayden had truly found himself an absolutely competent successor.

Fortunately, they had prepared several other plans.