Raydor Holy Sword War Journal

Viscount Wolfert, the lord of the mansion, was staring at the desk when a group led by Sven visited the mansion.

Spread over a desk made of quality oak trees was a letter from the nobility of the Wang Du in a cooperative relationship with the Viscount.

I had asked the royal palace to treat me as if I had betrayed the kingdom of Zayn and turned back to the Empire, but the response was unscented.

"All the while, that young man! This I'm going back to the kingdom aristocracy, but keep your intentions up!

Viscount Wolfert's resentment is directed at Granard Zain, the young king.

Granard did not seem to give way to the solemnity of the border nobility who had fallen back to the Empire, nor did he seem to shake his head so vertically in the midst of the Viscount's collaborators.

The reason for this was that if they admitted to the restoration of the traitors, their plans to use their lives to discredit Raydor would go bankrupt, but the Viscount, unaware of such a thing, mercilessly grabbed a letter from a friend.

"Who do you think I am! The kingdom of Zayn has survived to this day, probably because our Viscount Wolfert family has guarded the border! You ungrateful fool!

The Viscount throws up a misguided word with resentment.

Indeed, the Viscount Wolfert family has worked so far to protect the eastern border, but Bobalt Wolfert, the contemporary lord, has flatly renounced his most important duties.

That is why we are currently being driven by a crisis of annihilation, but the rationale that even such a child can understand does not resonate with the Viscount's head.

What the Viscount cares about is how to make him acknowledge his existential value. How can I protect my position and my property? It's just that.

"When this happens...... we still have to drive the inhabitants of the town back to that exiled prince for the shield. If you show this man that I have become known as the hero of the Redemption by repelling him, he must be crying for me to spare my strength and come back to the kingdom!

The Viscount draws on his head a futuristic anticipation map mixed with distorted delusions and aspirations, and laughs guffaw.

I could hear the doors of the office being knocked in the ears of the Viscount circling such a convenient imagination.

"Hmm... who, I'm on duty!

"Excuse me. Viscount."

"Whoa, isn't that Sven! Nice to see you!

It was Sven Arbeil, a fallen aristocratic boy protected by the Viscount Wolfert family, who modestly opened the door and came in.

The Viscount smiles and invites a boy of his own kin.

"I'm sorry I'm at work. If you're busy, I'll get back out..."

"No, no, I don't mind. I was just about to take a breath."

Viscount Wolfert recommends the chair to Sven, laughing with Nico.

It was from a certain intention that a man as picturesque as this greedy aristocrat behaved more favorably than necessary against Sven.

(If the rapprochement of this war is to be tied to kingdom superiority and the territory of the Earl of Arbeil is to be returned, Sven is the only one to succeed the reconstructed Earl. If you let Sven marry your daughter and I'll be your back shield, the Counts will do as I please...!

"You are my nephew... no, you could be my future son. You don't have to be so scared, you don't have to take it easy on me."

"Thank you. The Viscount only has a word of gratitude for your protection."

Sven sees the Viscount, as the words say, with a grateful and respectful eye.

Full of self-esteem for the boy's attitude, the Viscount thumped his nose and sagged his chest to meat at best.

"Uhm, you can always rely on this me! By the way... what can I do for you today?

"Oh, actually, there were those who wanted to introduce me to the Viscount and I took them"

"Hmm?"

At the tip of the Viscount's gaze tilting his neck, the office door was opened again and several men entered the room.

The Viscount barely steps, two steps behind the figure of the fiercely armed men.

"Who are they?"

"Oh, they are the survivors of the Earl of Arbeil family. We were able to meet again in this town, so we wanted to make sure you met the Viscount."

"Ugh, um. Right!"

The Viscount coughed to delude himself that he had become frightened and turned to the soldiers in a dignified manner.

"You were under the command of the Earl of Arbeil family. I'm sorry to hear about the Count, but from now on, let Sven be the master."

"Ha, I understand. Viscount! Together, we will serve the Earl of Arbeil's house with all our might!

"Uh-huh."

To the soldier who replies respectfully, the Viscount strokes his mouth beard with a big-time trick.

Sven giggles and speaks up to the Viscount, who exaggerates as he sways his jaw flesh with plenty.

"By the way, Viscount. I came today to ask the Viscount for a favor..."

"Oh, please? A favor from my son, Sven. Let's do whatever it takes to make it happen!

(If you sell favors to this one, it will later be in my favor to rule the Earl of Arbeil family)

Viscount who takes the lead in the lowest hearts.

Knowing or not the inside of such a Viscount, Sven said coldly with a childish, bright smiling look.

"Well then... it's Viscount Wolfert's territory, but I'll take it, won't I?

"Is...?

"Home, take over."

At the same time as Sven's words, the soldiers who were coming into the office pull out their swords simultaneously.

With five swords stuck to his neck at a time, Viscount Wolfert had his face pulled by a dusk.