CHAPTER 150: ANDREW’S BETRAYAL

The enemies headed toward Ribest with a single plan in mind: scare the people as they advanced, then push them back into the town and encircle them. Once the townspeople were trapped inside, they would cut them down easily and head straight for the manor. This was the strategy they had crafted long before the attack began.

Shadow’s role was simple: pull away the two strongest individuals in Ribest, Raze and Fey. With those two absent, their forces would easily suppress the townspeople.

That was the expectation as the invaders rushed forward, roaring.

But the farmers working around Ribest paused the moment they heard the shouts. They turned, every one of them, to see the incoming army.

Normally, they would have run to alert the Baron so the knights could defend the town. But instead of panicking, each farmer quietly picked up his hoe or farming tool and stared at the charging army as though it meant nothing.

The invading soldiers didn’t understand this behavior. Still, they pressed forward, believing that once they drew close enough, the townspeople would finally recognize the danger and break.

To their growing confusion, when only a few hundred meters separated them, the men of Ribest still did not flinch. Instead, even more men came out of the town—each carrying only simple tools. Barely anyone held a real weapon.

Robert stepped to the front.

"Men! It seems someone is coming to attack our town—our Ribest!" he roared. "The Young Master isn’t here right now, but he’s been training us for moments like this! Preparing us for the day someone dares to take everything we’ve been building! For ourselves, for each other! We must defend Ribest!"

A thunderous cry answered him as the men surged forward. They moved like the wind, using the techniques Raze had taught them. Ki flooded through their bodies, enhancing their strength several times over.

The invaders were stunned.

The people they thought would panic didn’t even blink. They were charging.

Still, orders were orders. The invaders pushed forward.

Then the clash erupted.

The men of Ribest were barely half the number of the attacking soldiers, yet within minutes, they began suppressing the enemy. With only farming tools, they delivered heavy blows, crippling limbs, blocking every approach into the town. Not a single killing strike, only disabling ones.

A full battle exploded.

The attackers fought with skill, swordsmanship refined through years of practice. The men of Ribest fought with instinct and raw strength. But Raze’s training made the difference: their stance, their breath control, their ki—all allowed them to hold the line.

Injuries mounted, blood spilled, but not a single townsman fell.

Meanwhile, inside Ribest, the Baron received word of the battle as a messenger dashed into the manor. He immediately barked orders for his knights—over fifty of them—to rush out and support the townspeople before the situation worsened.

The townsmen could resist for a time, but they lacked armor and skill. Without the knights, they would eventually break.

No one expected an attack on Ribest, but they refused to let it bring them down.

The knights stormed out at full speed toward the battlefield.

And that was exactly what the enemy wanted.

With the knights gone, Andrew, the Baron’s son, finally had the opening he’d been waiting for. The men he had secretly smuggled in from the Viscount’s army moved into position. Their job was simple: weaken Ribest from the inside, break the defenses, and ensure the outside forces crushed them.

It was a coordinated plan, designed to make Ribest fall and burn.

Andrew stormed into the manor with ten men following behind him. They broke in quickly; every knight and guard had already left to help in the battle outside.

Andrew took three men with him and rushed straight toward his mother’s room. Without hesitation, he kicked the door open. She was inside, calmly arranging her hair in front of a mirror. When she turned and saw him, she smiled gently.

"Oh, Andrew. What’s—"

He pointed his sword at her.

"Mom. Don’t say anything. Don’t say anything. Come with me."

She froze. The look in his eyes... she had never seen her son this serious. Something was terribly wrong.

Without another word, she rose from her chair and walked toward him. He grabbed her by the back of her neck and forced her out into the hallway before signaling the three men.

"Get my sister. Drag her out."

They obeyed immediately, breaking into her room and pulling her out in tears and confusion.

Andrew dragged all of them down into the center of the manor hall.

Then he shouted:

"Father! Michael! Step out. Now!"

His father walked out of his office, confusion on his face. Michael followed soon after. When they saw what was happening, both their hearts dropped.

"What the hell are you doing, Andrew!?" his father roared.

Michael shouted too. "What’s come over you, Andrew?! What’s the meaning of this?"

"Shut the hell up!" Andrew snapped.

He glared at his father.

"I’ve been watching you."

He stepped forward.

"All my life, I trained. Struggled. Fought. I gave everything to become your successor, the one who would take your mantle. I sacrificed every enjoyment I could have had just to train my body and become the next Baron. Stronger than you. Better than you. The right person to take your seat."

His grip tightened on the sword.

"Yet you decided to give it... to my younger brother. That good-for-nothing Raze who was worthless until recently. Two months of good acts? And suddenly that overwrites everything I’ve done for my entire life? How is that fair!?"

His father frowned deeply.

"Andrew... if you have an issue, this is not the way to go about it. If you want to talk, come to me directly. Don’t lay hands on your mother."

Andrew shook his head slowly.

"Time for talks and negotiations has passed. You didn’t want to give me what I deserved. So I found a way to take it."

His eyes darkened.

"Now all of you will pay for sidelining me... disrespecting me... handing away what was my birthright."

"Andrew, don’t do this," his mother pleaded. "You’re better than this. You’re my son."

He ignored her completely.

"I will be taking my seat as the Baron," he said coldly. "And if that means killing each and every one of you to make it happen, then I will."

He pointed his blade at all of them.

"So you’d better stand down and do exactly as I say... or your blood will spill across this floor. Do you understand me?"