Regressing as the Reincarnated Bastard of the Sword Clan - Chapter 88

dChapter 88: The Game of Catching Tails (3)

“No matter what happens, this engagement must succeed. It is the only way you can prove your worth.”

“……”

Naban Bacchus quietly looked at the knight assigned to him by his family—or more precisely, the knight who was tasked with monitoring him.

Sunken, hollow eyes.

Even madness flickered within his pupils.

It was easy to tell that the knight was in a severely abnormal state, clearly tormented by drugs.

“Ha! It seems Bacchus has truly fallen. Even if you’re treated as a cast-off bastard, selling your own child to beg for money—what a wretched state.”

“Do you wish to die?”

The knight’s face twisted with anger.

His hand reached toward the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it if need be.

“If you’re going to kill me, then go ahead.”

Naban, however, merely sneered in response.

“The leader of the Ceres Trading Company would be delighted to have a son-in-law with his head chopped off. Oh, would he really be happy? After all, without the need to feed or house me, he’d save quite a bit of money. I’ve heard he’s quite stingy when it comes to spending, isn’t that right?”

“You insolent…!”

“Relax your eyes before they pop out of your skull. Don’t worry; I know my place better than anyone. I’ll offer my unwavering loyalty, scrape up every last bit of the Ceres Trading Company’s fortune, and bring it back to the family. Hah!”

“……”

The knight slowly withdrew his hand from the sword’s hilt.

Continuing this conversation any longer would only serve to irritate him.

A marriage between the Bacchus family and the Ceres Trading Company.

Though both were technically vassals of the Ragnar family, the two groups couldn’t be more different.

The Bacchus family, with its rich history and tradition, once led the Six Snow Families.

On the other hand, the Ceres Trading Company, barely a century old, was nothing more than a merchant group.

From the start, this union didn’t match the Bacchus family’s ‘status.’

Moreover, the daughter being offered by the Ceres Trading Company wasn’t even their eldest; she was the fourth daughter, without any claim to inheritance. To make matters worse, she had even suffered the humiliation of having her right arm cut off by Theo a few months earlier.

Despite all this, the marriage proposal moved forward, a clear sign of how dire the Bacchus family’s situation had become.

‘If only… if we can overcome this crisis, the family can rise again. We just need to endure this humiliation one more time.’

The fourth daughter of the Ceres Trading Company was set to bring a substantial dowry.

For the Bacchus family, teetering on the edge of bankruptcy due to crushing debt, this marriage was a lifeline, providing enough to keep them afloat.

‘Anyway, I’m just a bastard child abandoned by the family. They said I barely have five years left to live, so there’s no need to worry about consequences.’

Outwardly, Naban was known as the child of the first wife, but in truth, he was the son of the family head, born from a prostitute he had encountered by chance on the battlefield.

If it weren’t for his distinct gray hair, a unique trait of the Bacchus family, he wouldn’t have been acknowledged as a child at all.

That’s why they could push him towards the Ceres Trading Company without hesitation.

After all, he had a fatal weakness—without medication, he wouldn’t survive more than five days.

So, the plan was to get rid of this nuisance and make some money on the side, all to restore the family’s glory.

The Guardian Knight was immersed in such dreams.

‘Fools. Do they really think that’s going to work? Does Quadrach, with his sharp mind, and Ed really not know what we’re up to?’

Naban, on the other hand, scoffed at the family’s foolishness, knowing they only knew how to swing swords but were utterly clueless about the ways of the world.

If he had to guess, this marriage proposal was merely bait.

A bait craftily designed to swallow the entire Bacchus family whole.

Once they bit?

By the time they realized what was happening, they would already be inside the belly of Quadrach—or rather, Ed Troyban.

After all, it was Ed Troyban himself who had suggested this marriage to the family.

It seemed like a gesture for their benefit on the surface.

But Naban knew Ed’s ambitions all too well.

Most of the family’s assets had already been mortgaged here and there to the front organizations that Ed Troyban had set up.

Many of the household servants had also been swayed to his side, but only the direct members of the family remained oblivious to this fact.

Naban had realized this a long time ago but had kept his mouth shut.

‘There’s no need to tell them, is there?’

He had less than five years left to live.

Watching the family go up in flames during that time would at least be entertaining.

‘Pushing a fifteen-year-old fledgling into marriage in the first place is far from a sane act.’

Keh!

It was then, as Naban let out a bizarre laugh.

“The leader of the trading company has sent a message asking for you to be escorted inside. Please follow me.”

The steward had appeared out of nowhere, bowing his head.

Naban and the Guardian Knight quietly followed behind him.

* * *

“They say a marriage alliance is being arranged between the fourth daughter of the Ceres Trading Company and the second son of the Bacchus family.”

A cold sneer formed on Kleve’s lips as she relayed the confidential information brought from Black Snow.

“And to commemorate it, quite a few trading companies from the North have sent delegations to offer their congratulations, making the city rather noisy.”

“The Ceres Trading Company intends to swallow the Bacchus family whole and, furthermore, secure a complete hold over the ‘Northern Merchants’ Association’ as well.”

At Theo’s assessment, Kleve burst into laughter.

His ability to grasp the intent from just the bare facts was truly remarkable.

He wasn’t receiving additional information from somewhere else, so how could he show such an extraordinary level of insight?

“Exactly. Power and wealth—Ceres will have it all. Ed Troyban is about to get himself a fine new sword.”

“And our job is to break that sword, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“It won’t be easy.”

“You say that, but you seem to be enjoying it.”

Theo merely smiled without answering.

Kleve shook her head with a sigh.

“You’re starting to seem like a real sly one, you know.”

Theo scratched his cheek with his finger but remained silent, deep in thought.

‘Was this around the time when Ceres began to devour the Bacchus family?’

Theo knew the circumstances surrounding this matter very well.

Ceres, reborn as a “Sword House,” played a crucial role in the rebellion led by Ed and Axion.

After absorbing the Bacchus family and securing the finances of the Northern Merchants’ Association, Ceres had grown immensely powerful.

‘If I can sever this link early, it would be as if Ed Troyban lost one of his arms.’

Theo felt that this unexpected opportunity had come at just the right time.

‘Maybe I’ll even get to see the “Fleeting Phantom Sword,” that friend of mine.’

Fleeting Phantom Sword.

The name, meaning “the sword of a ghost with a short life,” would later be the title given to Naban Bacchus, who had made significant contributions as the son-in-law of the Ceres family.

Naban Bacchus had achieved such great deeds that even Theo could vividly recall his accomplishments.

Because of him, the captain of the Gale Sword Unit had died in battle, and many other forces had suffered considerable losses.

However, due to a congenital illness, he passed away suddenly not long after.

It was said that Ceres’ family head, Quadrach, left a regretful final wish before his own death: ‘How I wish my son-in-law could have lived just six months longer.’

‘Perhaps, I might be able to pull him to my side in this situation.’

Theo’s eyes gleamed sharply.

By then, the city housing the main branch of the Ceres Trading Company had come into view in the distance.

As Kleve had mentioned, the area in front of the company’s headquarters was bustling with people.

Everyone seemed to be managing multiple wagons or carts, with large bundles slung over the workers’ shoulders.

He couldn’t even guess how many flags were fluttering above his head.

The Northern Merchants Association.

It was an association made up of northern merchants and trade associations, centered around the Ceres Trading Company.

Originally, it was just a simple social gathering for exchanging information, but at some point, it had become a profit-driven organization.

Even Ragnar took notice.

“They’ve really decided to show off their power.”

Hazel’s gaze, looking down at them, was filled with clear discontent.

Kleve nodded his head.

“None of that—sitting in those high positions, enjoying that prestige—would have been possible without the power of Ragnar. How do they not realize that?”

“When things go well, people tend to mistake it for their own skill rather than luck,” Theo replied with the same sneer.

Kleve, agreeing with his words, let out a small laugh before shouting loudly.

“Then everyone, descend!”

At Kleve’s command, Theo, Evelyn, and Hazel all hurled themselves toward the ground.

– Uh, uhh…?

– What’s that?

– Something’s falling from the sky!

– Pe-people? Why are they coming this way!

– Run, run!

The people of the Northern Merchants Association, who were lined up in front of the headquarters, looked up, only to scatter in a panic.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Amidst the chaos, Theo and the others landed with a deafening roar,

Clang clang clang clang!

“Who are you?”

“State your purpose!”

The soldiers and mercenaries guarding the headquarters immediately pointed their swords at them.

“Theo.”

“Yes!”

At Kleve’s command, Theo pulled out the short staff he had been keeping, and swung it wide.

As soon as the lock on the short staff was released, it grew rapidly, far exceeding his height.

The fabric rolled up inside unfurled in the wind, revealing the banner with a mighty flourish.

Flap—

A symbol of a dragon with nine heads, biting a sword.

It was the banner of Ragnar.

– Th-that’s…!

– Ra-Ra-Ragnar! Why have they suddenly appeared!

Ragnar!

Though the name represented the face of the North, to the people of the North, its arrival was no different from that of a grim reaper.

The merchants’ faces instantly drained of color.

Squeeze.

Theo’s grip on the flagpole tightened.

The flag was a symbol of the Great House’s authority.

It was also the face of the Great House.

That they entrusted such a thing to Theo showed just how much Kleve and his companions trusted him.

Beneath the flag,

Kleve let out a thunderous roar.

“From this moment, we will begin Ragnar’s event! Anyone who dares to interfere, hinder, or obstruct it will be considered as challenging Ragnar’s authority and will be executed on the spot-!”

Executed… executed… executed…

Her voice echoed loudly in all directions in an instant.

The merchants, overwhelmed by the imposing pressure, stepped back,

while the chief steward of the Ceres Trading Company, who had been welcoming guests at the main gate, rushed out with a pale face, bowing deeply.

“Wh-what on earth brings the Great House to such a, such a humble pl-place like th-this…!”

Looking down coldly at the top of the chief steward’s head, Kleve spoke.

“Are you the head of the Ceres Trading Company?”

“N-no! I, I’m just the chief steward here…!”

“How dare a mere steward, not even the head of the trading company, presume to confront the executor sent to carry out the noble Lord’s command—! Since when did Ceres become so arrogant?”

“…!”

The chief steward’s face, already pale, now seemed on the verge of collapsing, as if his breath might stop at any moment.

-When the Dragon of the North moves, everything around it turns into a sea of fire.

This was a well-known proverb to anyone living in the North.

A saying meant to warn against incurring Ragnar’s wrath.

And now, this was an event conducted by an executor bearing the ‘Lord’s command’!

“I understand now how Ceres views the Great House. I will personally see the head of the trading company, so clear the way immediately.”

“Pl-please, wait…!”

As Kleve began to walk forward, the chief steward hastily tried to plead for a moment,

Swick-

Splurt!

But before he could finish, Hazel, who was standing beside him, darted forward and swiftly severed his head.

Blood spurted into the air.

“I clearly said anyone who interferes with Ragnar’s event would be executed on the spot, didn’t I?”

“…!”

“…!”

“…!”

No one in the audience, who had not expected her to wield her sword so mercilessly, could dare approach them now.

The soldiers and mercenaries of Ceres were no different.

Kleve commanded.

“Open the gate.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Yes, sir!”

Evelyn and Hazel leapt forward, blowing the main gate, along with the wall, away in one sweep.

Boom—

Above it all, the flag held by Theo fluttered powerfully.

It was Ragnar’s grand entrance.