Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 226

Amidst the resounding thunder of over ten thousand cavalry charging across the field, shaking the very earth beneath them, a middle-aged man with red hair and eyes led at the front, repeatedly shouting at the top of his lungs.

“Charge! Charge!”

Comprising chiefly of McLain’s crossbow cavalry, this force of nearly ten thousand riders had been cherry-picked from the elites capable of the swiftest movement after the battlefield had been secured. However, even for such elites, continuously galloping for over a day with just minimum rest was an arduous task.

Eventually…

Heeiiinngh!

At the rear of the column, a horse that had struggled to keep pace finally collapsed powerlessly.

“Jensen!”

His comrades cried out his name in desperation as they ran alongside him, but…

“Leave any stragglers behind! Just look forward and charge!”

It was an incident that had occurred several times already.

Not one among them was spared from exhaustion, yet in front of them, their lord continued to shout with veins bulging in his neck.

“Do not slow down! We rest only to the bare minimum!”

His cry was laden with determination to swiftly close the distance they had lost to Logan while tending to the battlefield.

With their lord setting such an example with his bloodshot eyes, the soldiers had no choice but to grit their teeth and follow.

Yet, amidst their forced charge…

A group of soldiers could be seen approaching from a distance.

“It’s the armored banner of the Armored Viscount!”

As a soldier recognized the standard of the house, Padric’s brows drew closer together.

‘We’re in a rush as it is.’

What they could see was at best, around fifty knights accompanied by a group of soldiers ten times their number.

Although McLain’s crossbow cavalry had lost its knights, they were the elite of the elite.

Confident that they would easily melt through a small group of knights with their rapid-fire crossbows, Padric thought that if those fools approached without seeing any knights and became hostile, they would simply smash them to pieces.

“Prepare for battle, all troops!”

Padric’s charged command shifted the rushing soldiers’ gazes.

Arming crossbows and drawing swords and spears, the soldiers quickly readied for battle.

Just a few gasps for breath were enough to complete the preparations, a clear testament to their rigorous training.

However, they would have no need to wield their weapons.

“Lord Count! I am Samuel Armored, the Viscount! We wish to join McLain’s forces!”

The portly middle-aged man at the forefront, waving his banner frantically, clearly was not preparing for battle.

No weapon was drawn, no discernible movement made; the man even bowed his head as if fearful of any misunderstanding.

‘Hm?’

Padric scrutinized them with a piercing gaze and then nodded his head.

Two days had passed since the decisive battle.

By now, there wasn’t a soul who didn’t recognize that McLain’s victory had become the irresistible tide. It was then Padric finally considered that such individuals might seek to join his cause, in fact, there would likely be many.

But his response was simple.

“Continue the charge!”

Dududududu.

As if they had not heard the Viscount’s cry, McLain’s forces continued their gallop unabated. The color drained from Samuel Armored’s face as he had boldly cried out.

“Wait a moment…!”

The pressure of facing the charge of ten thousand troops head-on was immense.

“Viscount Armored, make way! If you do not yield, we will force our way through!”

Padric’s voice resounded thunderously across the field, startling the Viscount and his forces.

“Bu-but, my Lord Count! I came to support…”

“Silence! If you want to support, then follow on your own accord!”

Dududududu.

The ten thousand cavalry continued to dash across the field, and Samuel Armored, who had raised his banner high hoping to ride the tide of the main force, had no choice but to swiftly make way.

“Blast it…!”

An unsettling event.

But he knew why he had come.

McLain had triumphed in the decisive battle and risen as the predominant power.

If he wanted to join forces now, he had no other option.

“Follow them by any means necessary!”

He too, clenched his teeth and tried to catch up to their rear.

Heeiiinngh.

However, Samuel Armored’s hopes did not seem likely to be realized so easily.

In the following two days alone, just like him, there were ten noble families comprising of small and medium-size forces that had latched onto McLain’s tail—a formidable group of over five thousand.

Dududududu.

“How many men are there?”

“Truly McLain…”

“Is the world really changing?”

Buzzing murmurs filled the air.

Troops streamed through the city gates.

Those on the streets or peering from their hidden homes were gripped by a heavy fear.

Just moments ago, they had watched over a thousand knights rush towards the royal castle. And now, such a massive army followed in pursuit.

While the political machinations of the nobles were not for the common folk to intercede, in times such as these, they could not help but feel a sense of crisis.

And Padric’s cry, once inside the outer castle, further amplified the anxiety felt by the capital’s citizens.

“Units one to five secure the east of the inner castle, six to ten take the south, eleven to fifteen the north, the rest search the west! Detain all nobles and bring them to the royal castle! If they resist, it is permissible to kill!”

“Yes!”

“Bu-but, Lord Count! What should we do?”

After giving orders to his soldiers, Padric intended to dash towards the royal castle; but he regarded Samuel with a murderous glare.

*Gulp*

Under the weight of that deadly presence, Samuel involuntarily shrank.

“From now on, martial law is declared throughout the capital! Your task is to scour the outer castle and detain any suspected escaped nobles!”

Fortunately, Padric gave them a pivotal role in the occupation of the capital city.

“Yes!”

“Understood!”

“We will serve with utmost loyalty.”

The minor nobles who had followed McLain’s lead all responded with resounding voices. However, with no intention of hearing their replies, Padric had already taken off towards the inner castle.

“Wait! This house has nothing of…”

“Stand aside! Resistance will not be tolerated!”

“But this is our home…”

Crash!

As Padric sprinted off, houses were already being turned upside down by his soldiers.

Noble mansions, in particular, became almost desolate, the chaos exacerbated by a few knights and mercenaries blocking the entrances.

“How dare you, rebels, oppress the nobility?! Stand down!”

An obese nobleman commanded, and the two knights under him pressured the soldiers.

Their drawn swords faintly pulsated with red energy, signaling they were at least mid-tier knights.

“At least show the minimum courtesy due to nobility when dealing with them! Judging by the looks of these soldiers, I can gauge the standard of the McLain troops!”

As the nobility fiercely resisted, the soldiers reluctantly backed away, their scuffle drawing the attention of all nearby onlookers.

Taking matters into his own hands, Padric stepped forward.

“Make way!”

Swoosh!

With a furious shout, he barged into the fray and decapitated the unlabeled noble who had been demanding his rights.

“Hiiiek!”

As the noble’s men gasped in shock, Padric then berated his own soldiers, who had hesitated before that same noble.

“If they resist, kill them! All nobility in the capital with influence or armies must be captured! Hesitate, and you’ll be the ones dying!”

“Yes, sir!”

With fearsome aura enveloping the troops, they quickly resumed their search with paler faces. And just then, other nobles who had considered using their personal guards to resist began to cower.

As the situation eased a bit.

“There are no exceptions! All nobles must be captured!”

Perhaps motivated by his fierce command, McLain’s soldiers shifted from merely searching to outright ransacking the noble abodes.

Bang!

“There’s someone hiding in here!”

“Drag them out and tie them up!”

“Ah! You insane fools! Do you even know who I am…?!”

Whack.

“…”

Thunk.

“Hurry and secure them! Move on to the next mansion!”

The nobles’ desperate attempts could no longer shake McLain’s soldiers.

“Move quickly!”

As Grang’s inner castle descended into chaos, there were some nobles who took a different approach.

“Heek! J-just spare my life, please. Only my life.”

Whimpering cowards dropped to their knees as soon as the soldiers burst in.

“I won’t resist. Just guarantee the safety of my family.”

Others surrendered willingly while…

“Haha, I’ve been awaiting your arrival. I’ll lend you my personal troops. I am a cousin to Earl Floyd, you see…”

There were those who even offered to help, claiming they would support McLain’s cause.

Thus, the capital Grang plummeted into unprecedented turmoil.

‘Good, the nobles are being taken care of.’

After doing his part to create such bedlam, Padric confidently marched toward the heart of the inner castle, the royal palace.

“Salutations! Our Lord!”

Knights guarding the broken entrance of the royal palace saluted upon seeing Padric.

Instead of responding, he leaped from his horse as if he were taking flight.

“Where is Logan?”

“He entered towards the great hall inside! The entire Order of Knights has moved to take control of the royal palace, and we remain as sentries to guard against any unforeseen… “

“Keep it up. Good work.”

Without waiting for a full answer, Padric finished speaking and vanished in the direction where he presumed his son had gone.

‘With the royal palace and the capital’s nobility subdued, any escapees won’t make a difference.’

His heart thudded loudly; perhaps sensing the close of this most perilous civil war.

At the thought, just when the weight on his mind felt strangest, Padric entered through the open doors of the great hall.

And he instinctively stopped dead in his tracks.

First to catch his eye was the sight of the king, slumped over his throne, blood pouring from his mouth—a fallen corpse.

“Ugh…”

Although he had braced himself for this scene, Padric was unconsciously halted in his steps, his gaze inadvertently shifting to his son beneath.

The king’s blood, already settling and coagulating on the ground.

His son, standing still as if lost in contemplation.

For a moment, he noticed his son’s sword—remarkably clean—but then…

‘…Now there’s truly no turning back.’

A soul-crushing weight descended upon Padric as he bit down on his lip.

He finally shifted his gaze; their eyes met as Padric painfully spoke up.

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