Repeat Vice - The Villainous Noble Doesn't Want to Die, So He Swore to Not Die As One of The Four Heavenly Kings - Chapter 4 - Saving the Village

Chapter 4: Saving the Village

“We’ve come to collect the taxes. Hurry up and hand over your wealth, you country bumpkins.”

Soldiers clad in armor arrogantly stated.

In response, the villagers raised their voices in anger.

“Don’t be ridiculous! We can’t afford to pay any more taxes!”

“Look at the situation!”

“We can’t catch any fish! How can we bother to pay you lot taxes?”

The soldiers, in response, smirk.

“If you don’t pay taxes, we’ll forcibly take them. Oh, don’t resist, okay? We were ordered to kill those who try to resist.”

The soldiers raised their weapons and entered the houses with their shoes on, ransacking them for valuables.

“Don’t mess around!”

Naturally, some villagers resist.

However, even if they have hoes or shovels, they can’t match the soldiers armed with swords and spears.

The resisting villagers are quickly subdued, and houses are ransacked one after another.

I watch such a scene from the carriage, resting my chin on my hand.

“Hey, Carlos.”

“What is it, Master Rofus?”

I gesture with my chin towards the soldiers engaged in looting.

“Is that allowed?”

“No, they’re clearly violating kingdom law. Forced seizure of property from those who don’t pay taxes should be conducted after appropriate procedures. It doesn’t seem like those procedures were done beforehand.”

“Yeah, that’s right. They’re clearly just thieves or something. They’re too lacking in finesse. But those soldiers, they’re not just regular mercenary-bandits.”

The armor worn by the soldiers is different from the standard armor provided by the kingdom.

Of course, it’s also different from the armor of the Lightless family.

“That seems to be the case. They’re probably Clinton’s private soldiers or mercenaries of some sort.”

“And the pinnacle is that emblem.”

The emblem of a coiled serpent on the flag carried by the soldiers.

That’s not the Lightless family crest.

“That’s definitely… the crest of Viscount Serpente.”

In the territory ruled by Lightless, it’s inappropriate for anyone other than the Lightless family to display a crest of a noble family as a symbol of authority.

Clinton Foe Serpente is merely a delegated administrator, not the lord of Rougvelt.

In other words, Clinton is displaying his own family crest in someone else’s territory and acting as if he’s the ruler.

“…The Magistrate’s arrogance is quite something.”

“We should return to the capital immediately and report to the Lord.”

“…Is it a problem if I personally deal with this Clinton?”

“That’s… it might be better to avoid that. Acting without the Lord’s permission…”

“Will it cause trouble?”

“The Lord’s mood would surely sour from the news.”

“I see.”

It might not be wise to stir up trouble here.

Reporting about Clinton now would likely result in him being removed from his position as magistrate.

In that case, the heavy taxes would most likely disappear, and one factor contributing to my future demise would be eliminated.

In that case, it’s fine.

The original purpose of coming to Rougvelt can be accomplished.

I breathe a sigh of relief and gaze out the window.

In the village, the plundering by private soldiers continues unabated.

Even the inn where we were staying until recently has been targeted by private soldiers. Screams can be heard from inside, and Lilia is dragged out by the soldiers.

“Hey! Captain, we found a young girl hiding!”

“Stop it! She’s my precious daughter! I’ll pay you, so please stop!”

The bald shopkeeper also comes out clinging to them.

Ah, he’s punched by the enraged private soldier.

Hmm, it’s truly a disgraceful sight befitting of commoners.

However, the soldiers’ demeanor is that of thieves, revealing their rough upbringing.

Displaying one’s family crest, plundering by private soldiers, and on top of that, abduction of village girls?

Oh my, I really have a lot to report to Father.

As I watch such a scene with a delighted expression, a private soldier approaches the carriage.

“What’s this? Quite an expensive carriage. It’ll fetch a good price.”

Huh?

“Hey, old man, if you don’t want to die, get out. The kid inside too.”

The private soldier of probably minor nobility talks to us with quite a disrespectful tone.

Could it be that he, too, is unaware of the Lightless family crest?

Carlos, who had been calmly watching even the soldiers’ plundering until now, visibly clenches his jaw and glares at the private soldier.

“Back off, you rascal. You’re hardly worthy to approach someone of my stature.”

“What did you say? We’re soldiers of Viscount Serpente. And behind us, believe it or not, even the Lightless family, those dark nobles, are backing us. It doesn’t matter who you are!”

The private soldier says so and draws his sword towards me and Carlos.

“Understood, get off. If this carriage gets stained with blood, its value will decrease.”

Just as the private soldier takes a step forward, his head rolls on the ground.

His face wears a smirk, not even realizing he’s dead.

Truly, a splendid sword technique as always.

Carlos flicks the blood off his rapier.

“Rofus-sama, I have caused you to witness something unsightly.”

“It’s fine. If you didn’t do it, I would have done it myself.”

This private soldier dared to mention even the name of the Lightless family.

To us, who rode in a carriage engraved with the Lightless family crest.

It’s ridiculous for a lowlife to come this far without knowing about it.

But I’m in trouble, an “excuse” has been created.

A excuse to crush Clinton and, by extension, to save Rougvelt.

“You! Do you understand what you’ve done!?”

A man who appears to be the leader of the private soldiers approaches us with an angry expression.

He was referred to as captain earlier.

“Are you saying you’ll make enemies of Viscount Serpente and those dark nobles, Lord Lightless!? You scoundrels, if you think you can live to—”

I form a Dark Ball, a huge ball of darkness, in my hand in silence and blow off the head of the private soldier.

What is this “dark nobles” thing anyway?

Don’t give my family such an unpleasant nickname.

“It’s you who won’t be returning alive. Carlos, kill them all. I permit it.”

“As you wish.”

Carlos, wielding his rapier, attacks the group of private soldiers.

Despite the disadvantage of being outnumbered, Carlos cuts through the private soldiers one by one, showing the prowess of a thousand men.

The private soldiers are taken aback by the captain’s demise at my hands and are unable to coordinate properly.

To Carlos, these stiff figures are no different from scarecrows.

“…Well, let’s get it over with.”

I aim a Dark Ball at the stunned private soldiers and the man holding Lilia.

The private soldiers are blown away without even a reaction.

Lilia, now free, looks at me dazedly and bows her head repeatedly with great force.

The bald shopkeeper also joins in bowing.

Don’t show such an ugly sight.

Just hurry up and go back home.

While doing that, the private soldiers are taken care of by Carlos and swiftly eliminated.

Without a speck of blood on his jet-black tailcoat, Carlos returns.

And deeply bows his head.

“I apologize. Two escaped.”

Suddenly, I look towards the village entrance and see countless horses tied up.

The horses belong to the private soldiers.

I see, they escaped on horseback.

Even Carlos seems unable to catch up with horses.

“There was a fast rat among them. Very well, I’ll forgive them.”

No, it’s better this way.

What will Clinton do after hearing the situation from the soldiers who escaped?

Or what excuses will he come up with when we visit his mansion?

Just thinking about how Clinton will plead to us is delightful.

Father often goes fox hunting, but did he feel like this when he did so?

It seemed boring, so I always declined his invitations, but maybe I’ll try it this time around.

I board the carriage with Carlos and give instructions.

Our destination is Clinton’s mansion.

The place is a port town about half a day’s journey by carriage from here.

Let’s stay there tonight.

After all, it’s a port town, so there should be slightly better inns than here.

“Wait a moment, young master!”

As the carriage is about to start moving, a voice calls out to us.

It’s Greg, a stern man with a cross-shaped scar on his forehead.

He seems to have clashed with the private soldiers, as there are wounds here and there.

“You kicked us out, but now you’re helping us! How can I repay this favor…”

He starts to ramble on.

I tap the ceiling with my cane.

Of course, it’s a signal to depart.

“Is everything all right? It seems he’s expressing gratitude…”

“It’s fine, just let it go. I don’t want to hear any more annoying voices from the commoners.”

“As you wish.”

Ignoring Greg’s voice, the carriage sets off.

Even so, Greg continues to shout, or rather, his voice becomes even louder.

“I misunderstood the nobility! I’m sorry! Please visit Rougvelt again! I’ll welcome you next time!”

What a noisy fellow! I doubt I’ll ever come to such a place again!

I plug my ears and wait until the voice fades away.