Forced Conscription (1)
A village was swept up in a massive inferno. Countless buildings burned like firewood, and the sky turned black with smoke.
The flaming spectacle, like a scene from hell, was nothing more than an ordinary barony.
The baron who ruled it had no greed for power and simply wished for a peaceful life—there wasn't a speck of corruption about him.
The only thing he wished for was to spend everyday life with his family in the domain he built.
Compared to other nobles who abused slaves or embezzled funds, he could be considered exceptionally pure-hearted.
Nobles like the baron existed in other parts of the empire as well, though they all shared so similarities.
They had little desire for power and simply sought unremarkable lives.
They tried their best to avoid being drawn into power struggles among other nobles.
They kept their hands off anything—be it military strength or resources—that other nobles might covet.
Because of this, the forces stationed in their domains were not particularly strong.
And finally, all of them ended up being branded as criminals and had their territories attacked. It was all too common a tale.
Whoosh—
The lord's manor, too, was engulfed in flas. With the fiercely burning manor at his back, the baron fell bleeding to the ground.
"I'm sorry... truly...."
The fallen baron reached out to his wife, whose breath had ceased before his own.
Because he believed this situation had co about entirely because of him, he shed tears.
'If only I hadn't attended that gathering....'
A few months earlier, there had been a gathering of nobles.
There, the baron's son had a conflict with the child of another house.
They resolved the issue fairly, through swordsmanship, and the baron's son erged victorious.
The opponent had received expert training from a high-ranking knight, yet the baron's son, aside from his noble blood, was just a twelve-year-old child.
Naturally, the onlookers at the ti and even the baron himself had been shocked.
Rather than anger at his son's defeat, the duke was impressed. It seed the matter had concluded peacefully—but an even greater issue followed.
Shortly after the gathering, a letter arrived from the duke.
The baron's face hardened as he read it.
The duke coveted his son's talent, proposing that the boy be raised as part of the imperial forces.
Of course, the choice was left to the baron, and he rejected it outright.
The duke tried to entice him, saying it would benefit the baron if his son beca a force of that caliber, but the invitation stank of sothing foul.
'Why offer up soone else's son when he has his own? What kind of nonsense is this...?'
The duke was rumored to be aligned with the "7th Legion
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