"B-Baron! There's an uproar in the city—!"
Upon hearing the report, Baron Volten simply nodded.
Ever since he had heard from his informants that Baron Logan was spending time with a woman at an inn, an uneasy feeling had crept over him.
'Baron Logan is not someone to be taken lightly.'
He was a man who had once cut down Arandel of Helmut. There was no way he would travel all the way here just to waste a day in an inn with a woman.
"I shall go."
The baron immediately changed his clothes.
His attire, reminiscent of a hunter, was the same as what he had worn during the revolution he once led.
The chilly night air greeted him.
The revolution had taken place in air just like this.
[Charge! Wipe them out!]
[Give us the medicine, you bastards!]
[We seek freedom! Ahh! Only freedom!]
The ideals he had harbored back then still lingered in his heart.
[There they are! Over there! That's it!]
[It's mine! It's mine, I said! Get lost!]
[Damn drug addicts! I'm different from you! I am a tragic soul, devoted to art and literature—!]
Even after the revolution's success, the echoes of people's ecstatic cries still rang in his ears.
—Stop! If this continues, we will all be destroyed!
—We must protect our Volten!
—I will distribute it! So please, stop! All of us—!
And yet, in the end, the man he had become was nothing more than a hypocrite.
—We will provide the medicine freely, equally! I will take responsibility!
Even after the revolution's success.
His own voice, once trying to suppress the madness, the chaos, and the rampage, was something he still loathed.
But even if he were to return to the past…
Would he truly be able to offer a better solution?
'This isn't the future I dreamed of when I held onto my ideals.'
Baron Volten had yet to find an answer.
For now, all he could do was keep this dying land on life support.
"Tell the Bellingwaltz Mercenary Corps to leave at once."
With those final words to the hidden mercenary corps, whom he had kept under wraps at the request of his benefactors,
The baron headed straight for the city.
It seemed that today, another storm was about to sweep through Volten.
***
At some point—
"Ughhh…!"
"It hurts…"
"P-Please, spare me."
By the time there were more people groaning on the ground than those charging forward,
The crowd finally began to hesitate and retreat. Some were frightened, while others were still unwilling to give up.
They exchanged glances, waiting for an opening, ready to attack again or cooperate with those around them.
But—
"Enough. No matter how desperately you struggle, nothing will change."
With an unusually low voice, the Grandmaster issued her warning.
Under the moonlit sky, she stepped forward and asked them:
"What has made you this way? I once believed loyalty to be a noble virtue… but seeing you now, my thoughts waver."
"..."
"Please, do not shake me with your ugliness."
The Grandmaster was not speaking solely to the people of Volten.
There was an ongoing conflict between the Transcendents and humans.
Though she had no intention of siding with the Transcendents, she also felt hesitant about fully supporting the other side.
This situation couldn't be left as it was.
Just as Isaac was about to step in—
"The Baron has arrived!"
"Ahhh! My Lord!"
"The Hero of Volten!"
"Punish the wicked!"
"Do not let the filth of the kingdom taint our land!"
Without anyone directing them, the crowd naturally split to both sides, creating an open path.
Through it, Baron Volten approached.
He was not dressed in the noble attire he had worn earlier but instead in rugged leather clothes adorned with fur, as if he were heading out for a hunt. A bow rested on his back, and a hatchet swayed at his waist.
His appearance perfectly matched the impression of a hunting dog, making Isaac smirk.
"That look suits you better, Baron Volten."
"Come with me. I've found the family of Millie Marceau, as Baron Logan requested."
He got straight to the point, revealing a glimpse of his personality.
Yet, at the same time, it felt like he was deliberately avoiding the current situation.
"I believe this situation requires some explanation."
Isaac gestured toward the sacks of corpses and the frenzied citizens as he spoke. The Baron let out a sigh before responding.
"I will explain. For now, let's leave this place."
At his glance, the crowd slowly withdrew again.
Even as they bowed their heads and bid him farewell, their reverence bordered on something close to madness.
"Let's go."
If they stayed here any longer, the Grandmaster might change in some way.
That sudden thought struck Isaac, making him prioritize getting out of there first.
"...."
Yet, even as Isaac led the way, the Grandmaster's gaze occasionally flickered back toward the crowd that had just swallowed them whole.
***
Back at the Baron's Manor
In the dimly lit room, Baron Volten slowly lit a candle and gazed out the window.
His eyes reflected a complex mix of emotions—ones that seemed to require time before they could be put into words.
Isaac half-expected him to light a cigarette.
However, the Baron didn't even reach for one. Instead, he let out a deep sigh and spoke.
"Volten is a city of addicts."
"...."
It wasn't particularly surprising.
Isaac had already seen many people affected by drugs during the earlier fight.
Though the degree of their addiction varied, to him, they had all looked the same.
"Alcohol, gambling, women—those are merely side distractions. In the end, drugs are what matter most. I provide them with a regular supply."
"You do realize that drugs are strictly illegal in the kingdom?"
"If not for them, Volten would have ceased to exist long ago."
With those words, Baron Volten essentially admitted to a crime.
Yet, he clenched his teeth and continued.
"This city… Everything always leads back to drugs. The underworld's rebellion? It happened because the kingdom tried to crack down on Volten's back alleys. Drug trafficking was their biggest business, after all."
"The revolution I led? It was only possible because the underworld raised drug prices to astronomical levels while ruling Volten."
"And the reason this city still stands? Because I distribute drugs for free."
In exchange—
The drug suppliers had all been wiped out.
Only now did Isaac begin to understand the blind loyalty the people had toward Baron Volten.
The addicts would want to protect the man who provided them with free drugs at all costs.
To them, the Baron was both the protector and ruler of their paradise.
"Do you understand now? Volten is that kind of city—a place constantly on the verge of collapse."
The baron's body slowly turned.
Then, he spoke to Isaac in a calm tone.
"Even so, I am keeping Volten alive. Because I believe it is my responsibility."
Isaac did not know what kind of past the man carried.
He found it hard to understand why the baron was so desperate to maintain Volten, even in its twisted form.
But one thing was certain.
The baron was unwavering.
Everyone has their own circumstances.
Everyone has their own story.
Just as Isaac had his secret past of regression, the Baron of Volten must have had his own reason for refusing to abandon this land.
But from an outsider's perspective, it was nothing more than stubbornness.
"So, with the help of 'Patrons', you sought to assassinate the princess?"
"..."
Volten's baron's eyes trembled slightly.
Isaac had merely intended to discuss the city's hidden truths.
After all, his supposed reason for being here was to find the family of a woman named Millie.
"So, you didn't come here just to look for a friend's family."
The baron's tone shifted, his voice lowering as he muttered.
At some point, his hand had moved to rest on the axe at his waist.
"The drugs are running out."
"..."
"The people want more and more, but the drugs stockpiled in the warehouses are nearly depleted."
Even after eliminating the drug lords through revolution, he had still gathered up the confiscated drugs.
It had been a vast amount, but it was never infinite.
"And then they came. They introduced themselves as 'Patrons' and promised to provide more drugs."
His words grew faster.
The obsession in his eyes—born of a desperate conviction—began to take hold.
The fact that he had even considered assassinating a royal princess for the sake of this city meant that rational thought had long since left him.
Schling!
The axe was drawn.
"It was I who kept this land alive after the kingdom abandoned it!"
He must have thought that, without a weapon, Isaac wouldn't be able to counter his attack.
But he had chosen the wrong opponent.
For the Grandmaster, who had been silently listening from behind, had already moved.
Thwack!
A swift kick from the Grandmaster struck the charging baron square in the abdomen.
The baron tumbled backward, rolling along the ground.
No matter how much experience he had gained as a revolutionary soldier,
He was facing an opponent far beyond his reach.
The difference in skill was as vast as that between an adult playing with a child.
"You knew, didn't you?"
"That this was nothing more than self-satisfaction."
"That the end would come sooner or later."
To put it bluntly, Volten was never going to last.
It was like force-feeding medicine to a terminally ill patient to keep them barely alive.
They might still be breathing, but the decay was inevitable.
"Grrrgh…!"
Clutching his wounded abdomen, the baron lifted his head.
"Did you think I didn't know that the end was coming? Even if it was ugly, even if it was broken, I wanted to sustain Volten for as long as possible—take responsibility—"
"Stop acting like a martyr."
"...!"
"You're just a hypocrite."
"I have no interest in listening to your sob story."
The baron staggered to his feet, his lips trembling as he forced a smirk.
"If you had heard the screams that day, would you have chosen differently?! That day, the day they call a revolution! The entire city nearly perished! If I hadn't taken responsibility and promised them a supply of drugs—"
"Madness upon madness. The revolutionaries were on the verge of transforming into rebels once again! I held their leash and kept them in check—!"
Baron Volten's ragged voice spilled out, his eyes welling with tears.
The man, who once seemed like a steadfast hunting hound, now trembled as if he were nothing more than a spent tool awaiting its inevitable end.
"…Yes, you're right."
A bitter sigh, like the sting of burning tobacco.
"I never failed to recognize my hypocrisy."
However.
"I merely pretended not to, and so, I took responsibility by watching them die."
The baron swung his axe wide.
He lunged toward the Grandmaster once more—
But before his strike could ever land, he crumpled to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut.
Thud!
"Khugh…!"
A groan, laced with sobs, spilled from his lips.
"If I die here?! If I die now, Volten will be plunged into chaos once more! The entire city will become one massive opium den!"
"...."
"You have only two choices. Cut me down and witness Volten collapse into riots, with hundreds of people dying in the streets—"
Or let them remain drugged, surrendering to a quiet, numbing death.
"...."
Isaac stepped toward the fallen baron.
Perhaps he had yet to fully grasp the weight of his decision and the consequences it would bring.
But.
A war with the Transcendents was on the horizon.
There was no room for hesitation.
The cold, sharp axe rested in Isaac's grip.
Looking up at the weapon, Baron Volten gritted his teeth and bid his final farewell.
"Welcome… to this damned Volten."
Slash!
The axe blade tore mercilessly through its master's neck.
Isaac exhaled, steadying his breath as he gazed at the severed head rolling across the floor.
"Would you bring me the sword?"
"…It will be arduous, kid."
"That's fine. I'll do it."
The Grandmaster slowly turned away.
The aftermath of this chaos—what kind of ending it would bring—remained uncertain.
How troublesome.
For now, following Isaac's request, the Grandmaster made her way toward the inn.
Volten was set into motion once more.
The "Volten Rebellion" had begun when the secret faction, fearing that the kingdom's pressure would make drug trade impossible, seized control of the city.
It was followed by the "Volten Revolution," when the citizens took the city back after the faction hiked up drug prices to unbearable levels.
And now.
With Baron Drian Belfort—known as "Baron Volten"—executed on the spot by Baron Logan for his involvement in the "Attempted Assassination of the Princess,"
The citizens, upon learning of Drian's death, rose in revolt once again.
Baron Logan responded with force.
Soon, history would remember what followed as the "Volten Massacre."
*
*
*
[TLN]
Access 5 additional chapters on my Ko-fi page.
https://ko-fi.com/astrascans