Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 156
After the deafening explosion, billowing smoke blotted out the sky, stirring up dust and debris that forced everyone with blank expressions to instinctively close their eyes.
Coarse gravel mercilessly struck their fragile eyelids, their faces stinging from the impact.
Yet they soon forced themselves to reopen their eyes, only to witness their two fastest-charging knight companions being hurled into the air by the energy-charged shockwave.
The knights clad in fine armor appeared as fragile as stumbling toddlers before the overwhelming force of the blast: their limbs twitched limply before they crashed heavily to the ground.
Crimson blood spread beneath them like an ominous flower, rapidly blooming and expanding.
Whether it was their barely moving chests or the drooping visors of their helmets… none of the others could determine if they were already dead or still breathing faintly.
“Great Goddess Havest!”
The knights, renowned for their bravery, loyalty, and combat prowess, now felt unprecedented fear and the urge to retreat for the first time.
They halted their advance, staring apprehensively at the one who had caused this explosion.
Though still gripping their sword hilts tightly, a shivering sensation like lingering electric currents repeatedly ran down their spines, bringing forth cold sweat.
“What was that?!”
Oliver naturally paid no attention to their questions.
He was undoubtedly the person in the field, aside from the true deity, who knew best the condition of those two knights: thanks to their armor’s protection and the naturally higher “health pool” of adult males, while the spectacle appeared terrifying and had indeed rendered both unconscious and completely incapacitated…they were definitely still alive.
To prevent the knights from being caught in subsequent explosive attacks and truly killed, Oliver had the golden-haired deity accompanying him lazily employ divine power under the cover of the thick smoke, directly dragging the unconscious pair some distance away.
Thus, in everyone’s eyes, the beautiful golden-haired lord didn’t even glance at the knights lying on the ground—their fate unknown—before continuing to advance slowly, casually placing new explosives on the ground while strolling as if in a leisurely garden.
The terrifying scene of three or four round explosives simultaneously spinning on the ground, their fuses burning rapidly with a hissing sound, became a horrifying memory the Gregor people would never wish to recall for the rest of their lives.
Even the bravest knights were frightened into hesitation, let alone the mercenaries and conscripted freemen.
From the moment they witnessed the two knights being blasted into the air, those at the rear of the formation erupted into chaos, panicking and trying to flee.
However, the previously seemingly ridiculous encirclement now proved its usefulness.
Though it couldn’t trap everyone, it was more than sufficient to delay the panicked crowd for a considerable time.
Oliver’s true intention was never to kill these ready laborers—the reason he invested heavily and deployed so many explosives at once was to achieve absolute deterrence.
The situation with Gregor’s army was entirely different from the rebels within Albury City: the mere presence of over twenty knights who had long served the McKenna family and their respective households meant their influence in the city ran deep. Not to mention the intricate marital connections maintained through years of the McKenna family’s entrenched operations.
To completely subdue them with minimal losses, it was necessary to catch them off guard with a sudden confrontation, then directly employ methods beyond their imagination to make an example of them.
It didn’t take long for Gregor’s army, trapped by what seemed like a comical and full-of-holes encirclement, to realize in terror one thing: the more they frantically pushed outward, the more likely they were to be attacked by that terrifying thing.
One moment, a person was alive and screaming; the next, they were swept into the sky by black smoke accompanied by fiery light.
Their voices, like those of poultry with their necks wrung, went from piercing to utterly silent in an instant.
They quickly learned their lesson, no longer daring to push outward blindly through the impenetrable black fog, and instead turned back, continuously shrinking inward.
Like quail chicks eyed by a bird of prey, they screamed heart-rendingly and trembled as they huddled together.
Because of this, they completely failed to notice: the reduction in their comrades wasn’t as severe as imagined, and even the bulky, massive siege equipment remained entirely untouched.
Just as Oliver had envisioned, things proceeded very smoothly: after he deployed the 20th explosive egg around Gregor’s army, Count McKenna, who had been cowering and trembling inside the carriage compartment, could no longer endure the torment of not knowing when death might come.
The thick smoke continuously seeping into the compartment and the incessant screams were enough to shatter the courage of the long-pampered noble lord.
His hands and feet shaking uncontrollably, he could only crawl out unsteadily on all fours, hoarsely pleading, “Respected Prince Oliver! Great Duke! Please forgive your foolish servant’s ignorant offense and grant him a chance to repent!”
What gave McKenna’s despairing heart a sliver of hope was that the faint, hazy figure seemed to actually pause its movements.
“I, I am willing to offer complete loyalty!” He caught his breath and desperately racked his brains to continue bargaining: “As long as you spare my life, my McKenna family will certainly—”
“Are you surrendering, Gride?”
That gentle, clear voice suddenly spoke.
But now, McKenna no longer possessed his earlier audacity to entertain wild ideas.
Like a drowning man desperately clutching at a lifeline, he seized it without hesitation, loudly promising: “Yes, yes! Merciful Prince Oliver! I will offer everything you require, as long as you forgive my foolish offense today!”
After saying this, the surroundings fell into an abrupt silence, leaving him anxiously awaiting the answer.
Fortunately, the young Duke had no intention of tormenting him psychologically.
After what seemed like very brief consideration, that pleasant voice spoke again, cleanly accepting his plea for mercy: “By the glory of the Cat God. I accept your surrender.”
Thanks be to Goddess Havest!
The threat of death slowly faded, and McKenna nearly collapsed to the ground the moment he relaxed.
Fosse pressed his lips tightly together, his brow furrowing even deeper.
Though only McKenna’s voice could be heard, anyone could tell that this old Count—who had once fought for honor on the battlefield but had long been corroded by decadent pleasures—was truly terrified out of his wits.
This is……
Disgrace.
The loyal butler stepped forward expressionlessly, roughly tying up the panting, weakened Count as if trussing a pig for slaughter.
Bound tightly at every limb joint and trapped in an undignified, curled position, Count McKenna naturally felt deeply humiliated.
Yet after the terrifying cannon roar that seemed to emerge from the depths of hell, he dared not utter a single complaint. Instead, he cooperatively extended his hands and forced an awkward smile at the young Duke’s most trusted enforcer.
Once Oliver stopped deploying new explosives, the smoke that had blotted out the sky quickly dissipated, revealing a scene that horrified the Gregor army.
Including the two knights initially drenched in blood and lying motionless—their fates unknown—nearly a hundred of their comrades positioned at the outermost ranks now lay still on the ground, seemingly devoid of life.
“Select two hundred men. Have Oakwood take all wounded prisoners back,” Oliver instructed Fosse. “The mercenaries and personal guards from the Gregor army are to be taken as well, imprisoned temporarily in Albury’s castle dungeons. The rest will follow us onward to Gregor City.”
Hearing this, Count McKenna—who lay like a dead pig inside the ornate carriage under the watchful eyes of two guards—abruptly lifted his head.
Realizing Oliver’s intent, his eyes filled with disbelief.
“What?”
His pupils trembled violently as he muttered, “How is this possible? Could he be planning to…?”
Even a hefty ransom wasn’t enough to satisfy the other’s appetite—was he so greedy as to directly seize his Gregor City?!
His bound limbs, growing numb from poor circulation, turned icy cold in an instant.
How dare he!
McKenna’s mind was in chaos. He remained oblivious even when the carriage curtain was suddenly drawn aside, letting light flood in, and the two guards beside him rose with fervent reverence to salute… He noticed none of his surroundings.
“Gride.”
Only when the Angel Duke’s calm voice suddenly spoke did he jolt as if doused with cold water, snapping fully awake.
But in his current humiliating position, it was impossible to offer the pretentious salute he had managed before.
And whose fault was that?
His own… and that damned, foolish Ken’s.
They had completely underestimated this young Duke—who had fallen from grace overnight, been rudely expelled from the royal capital by the newly crowned king, and seemingly become everyone’s punching bag.
How could they have known that while they arrogantly labeled him “naively foolish” and “merely beautiful,” he would silently deliver a thunderous strike?
“Your esteemed Highness.”
McKenna offered an uneasy smile. “Might there be anything I can do in my current state to alleviate your anger?”
Faced with the very person who had reduced him to such a wretched state, he felt only overwhelming fear, not even daring to request ‘could the ropes binding my limbs be loosened slightly.’
“Relax, Gride. I just have a few small questions for you.”
Oliver spoke with an air of nonchalance, settling into the most comfortable position within the opulent and spacious carriage compartment.
The golden-haired deity and the butler Fosse, who entered afterward, naturally took their seats on either side of him, while opposite them sat the two guards responsible for watching McKenna.
As for the carriage’s true owner, McKenna… he lay humiliated like cargo in the space between the two rows of seats, where even a slight turn of his head would bring a view of numerous boots.
He would rather close his eyes and deceive himself into thinking this was just a nightmare—but unfortunately, he had to open them again and respectfully answer the questions of the only person who could free him from this predicament.
Soon, Oliver’s first question arrived.
“Who is currently in charge of Gregor City?”
Seeing that the Count seemed to be lost in thought, his eyes darting around as if fabricating lies, the golden-haired lord sighed softly.
With the face of the most beautiful angel and a gentle tone, he uttered words as terrifying as a devil’s: “Does he need to think even about such a simple question? Perhaps I should have Fosse help jog your memory, Gride?”
TL Note: taking a short break 🥲 will update Thursday
