Hidden away in his castle with his family and four of his maids, Count Wizen worries when the sound of swords clas.h.i.+ng is no longer heard.

Less than ten minutes ago, he was having a peaceful lunch with his wife and three children when one of his maids from outside rushed into the dining room screaming.

For disturbing his masters' meal, usually the mad woman would have been punished with a few well-deserved lashes. Today, however, like himself, she is hiding in the library.

Interrupted by the high-pitched screams of the maid who claimed that bandits had just entered the property's gardens, the Count wiped his mouth.

Pulling without making a sound his heavy solide oak chair, he got up quietly and only after having suitably arranged his clothes, he went towards the wide French window which would allow him to corroborate, or not, the a.s.sertions of the one who had just spoiled his beef in sauce prepared by a renowned cook of the Capital, who had come expressly at his request.

With his hands folded behind his back, he barely reached his destination when an arm severed at shoulder height ricocheted againt the window.

He didn't immediately recognize the thing that collided with the window and made a thud, but taken by surprise, he took three steps back and put his hand on his heart.

Unsure of himself, fearing for his life but wanting to know what it was all about, he approached the window again.

When he discovered with horror the purple rib-knit s.h.i.+rt sleeve covering the cleanly sliced part of the body that lay on the white slabs outside, he grasped his long tunic with golden edges and pulled it up, then rushed to the table.

Less than five minutes later, his family, the maids present in the dining room when he made the abominable discovery, and himself, had pushed open the heavy door of the small library on the second floor.

Breathless after rus.h.i.+ng up the stairs and walking down the long corridor on that floor which seemed interminable to him, he ordered the four women who serves him to push the two large bookcases against the door.

Sitting, avoiding all noise and not showing himself at the window so as not to attract the attention of a possible archer, Count Wizen trembled as he listened to the sound of the fighting taking place a few feet below him.

However, as frightening as it was, when no more noise could be heard, the Count realized that the commotion generated by swords colliding with each other had something rea.s.suring that he could not explain.

...

(Knock, Knock,)

"We've already seen rats better better hidden. Won't you let us in? All right, then..."

(Boom)

...

"Don't worry, my children, these bandits will never get in here."

…

From outside the library, Nina hears several screams from women.

The excuse of protecting the delegation in order to suppress a few members of the dissident faction which has been very active lately, is not such a bad idea.

These n.o.bles added to various territorial officials should calm down after about 50 of them have been exterminated.

Nina doesn't care about Human Being's politics. Protecting her lover who wears the crown is even less important to her. However, she likes to suppress the great figures and create instability within the Kingdom.

Increasingly impatient, she watches as two of the soldiers of the Dark Brigade try to break through the thick door with an improvised battering ram.

The door vibrates, its paint has long since pealed, but its very solid material will not give way to this repeated attack of the most rustic kind.

"Get out of the way! If it doesn't give way, it will burn. (Wrath of the red moon)"

A purple sphere that exudes an overwhelming heat is born in front of the young girl.

Hoping she hasn't come here for nothing, as if she were throwing a crumb of bread with her finger, Nina pushes her index finger forward.

Wrapped in a blinding light, the two soldiers in black who fear that despite their armour their flesh will burn, b.u.mp into the walls trying to escape.

"Is it over?"

Nina's eyes wrinkle as they land on her soldier who has collapsed on her b.u.t.tocks. Sometimes she thinks that the rumour that the soldiers in the Dark Brigade are demons, is greatly exaggerated.

"Yes, you can unstick your b.u.t.t off the floor. We mustn't linger here if you want to loot the nearby temple."

Discovering the richly clad man through the door and wall that have disappeared, Nina thinks he must be the target she came for.

In addition to the infamous coward who just pushed one of the four maids towards her to protect himself, the beautiful, lightly dressed woman must be his wife.

Although it pains her a little, today no one will be spared. The adults will be killed and the three teenagers will also die.

n.o.bles are the most abject of Human Beings. Leaving their progeny alive today would mean trouble tomorrow.

Accompanied by her two soldiers which now stand perpendicular to the ground, Nina enters the library.

In addition to the usual smell of fear so identifiable, another comes to sting her nostrils.

Directing her big yellow eyes between the legs of a fourteen-year-old boy in a ridiculous white riding outfit, she understands why.

"Do you want money? I've got a safe full of it. If you spare us, I'll make the three of you so rich you'll never have to get your hands dirty again."

This man can only be that this Count for whom she took this great detour.

Seeing this wretch without an ounce of bravery hide behind his wife, Nina finds it almost laughable that this is the kind of person who allies himself with the former second Prince who, for fear of his brother, now lives in Esope.

"Don't bother to show us the way, my men are already busy reaping the fruits of your labor.

Don't be angry with me, but I haven't had lunch yet, and having seen the dishes on the dining table, I have no desire to continue this conversation, which in any case, will be the last one you will ever have.

Soldiers, while I'm having lunch, prove that you deserve your monthly pay. Kill them all, then after throwing their bodies out the window, impale them on the castle gates. »