Chapter 11: The place where frost stays Part 11

Just before Keldric entered Hilmor’s room.

Keldric, who had been walking down the hallway, soon arrived near Hilmor’s bedroom.

He noticed a room with an open door—Yakov’s room, where he should have been resting.

But the scene Keldric glimpsed inside was far from what he expected.

“Urgh…”

Yakov, who should have been sleeping on the bed, was lying on the floor, clutching his stomach.

Three masked men were huddled together near the door connecting to Hilmor’s bedroom.

Keldric’s face contorted as he took in the scene, momentarily stunned by the unexpected sight.

He had no interest in whatever was happening with Hilmor’s door, but Yakov sprawled on the floor was a different matter.

Yakov’s eyes, still faintly alive, met Keldric’s, momentarily widening before they dulled in pain.

Blood was spurting from Yakov’s stomach as if he’d been stabbed.

Keldric silently turned his gaze toward the intruders, who now also noticed him and froze, caught off guard.

Covered in blood, armored, with a sword slung over his shoulder—Keldric’s appearance was enough to intimidate them.

That brief hesitation sealed their inevitable defeat.

Thud! Thud!

Despite his heavy build, Keldric moved swiftly toward the intruders, swinging his sword without hesitation.

One of them tried to block with a dagger but was no match; Keldric’s sword struck through, slicing into the man’s shoulder with a sickening sound of flesh and bone breaking.

Seeing Yakov’s state had infuriated Keldric, yet even in his surprise, he continued the fight methodically.

Another thug, attempting to bash Keldric’s head with a club, found his weapon grasped mid-swing.

As Keldric wrenched the man’s wrist with a brutal snap, his iron-clad fist crashed into the man’s face repeatedly until he collapsed.

The final thug cowered by Hilmor’s door, watching Keldric approach with a fearful plea.

“W-wait! Keldric! Just let me explain—”

But Keldric struck him without a word, recognizing the face beneath the torn mask as Fritz—a known accomplice of Joseph.

Even after Fritz’s identity was revealed, Keldric showed no change of expression as he delivered a merciless punch to his stomach.

Fritz’s broken ribs crunched under the force, sending him crashing through the now-destroyed door into Hilmor’s bedroom.

Inside the bedroom.

Hilmor, witnessing the bloody Fritz and Keldric’s grim expression, nodded, reluctantly acknowledging Keldric’s explanation.

Fritz had betrayed him and led mercenaries here, and even Hilmor, who had unresolved questions, had to face the reality before him.

“Did you see Yakov?” Hilmor asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

“I thought I heard his voice from outside.”

Keldric immediately stood up, realizing in his rage he had neglected to check Yakov’s condition.

Together, he and Hilmor rushed to Yakov’s room, where the scene was ghastly.

Blood covered the floor, and Yakov lay motionless.

With urgency, Keldric called for clean cloth to staunch Yakov’s wounds, which was quickly fetched by the servants.

Though badly injured, Yakov’s will to protect Hilmor had been unwavering.

Keldric and Hilmor watched in silence as Yakov was carried away for treatment, both pained by the sight.

To Keldric, Yakov was as dear as a father, while Hilmor felt a profound respect for the man who had protected him with such loyalty.

“Brother,” Keldric said, entering the bedroom to settle things once and for all, with Hilmor, equally incensed, following closely behind.

In the North, grudges are repaid tenfold.

Keldric was the exception.

He was the type to repay grudges a hundredfold.

“W-what… Aaaah!!”

Fritz, who had fainted from pain, opened his eyes again at the sudden agony.

“Ugh, huff…!”

The reason was simple.

Fritz’s middle finger was bent in a direction it shouldn’t be, pointing towards the sky.

And the one gripping that finger was Keldric.

“Did you sleep well? Brother Fritz.”

“You, you bastard…! How dare you!”

Fritz, forgetting his own position, shot up.

His body was not bound.

Thanks to that, Fritz rose freely but immediately reached out his hands toward Keldric; however, he couldn’t touch him.

He collapsed from the sudden pain in his chest.

About five or six ribs had cracked, making it impossible for him to rise and struggle.

With a face twisted in pain, Fritz buried it on the floor, glaring up at Keldric with fierce eyes.

Keldric’s expression in response was indifferent.

‘Was it not enough?’

He thought maybe he hadn’t been hit enough yet.

So Keldric grasped Fritz’s arm with his rough hands.

Feeling the ominous aura, Fritz began to thrash wildly.

“Let go of me! You fucking bastard!”

“Calm down.”

Crack

With a cheerful sound, Fritz’s left arm was dislocated from its normal human structure.

Feeling the change clearly, Fritz opened his mouth wide like a baby bird being fed and let out a silent scream.

But Keldric felt something was still lacking.

This time, Keldric’s fist swung lightly.

“Guhhh…!”

Fritz’s face, having been struck near the solar plexus, now turned bright red.

For Keldric, it was just a light punch, but for Fritz, it felt like he was on the brink of death.

Fritz’s gaze, which seemed about to explode, landed on Hilmor’s shocked face witnessing the brutal scene.

“Y-you bastard…!”

Meanwhile, Keldric inwardly expressed pure admiration.

‘Still moving?’

Fritz’s resilience from his martial arts training was more impressive than Keldric had anticipated.

Like Fritz, who had directly learned swordsmanship and martial arts from Lord Volpen, his physical abilities were at a level comparable to that of an average squire.

Confirming that Fritz was still quite lively, Keldric proceeded methodically.

He lifted Fritz, who was collapsed on the floor, into a sitting position and gently grasped his right arm.

Fritz’s eyes, stained with fear, met Keldric’s.

Keldric’s expression as he looked at Fritz was like that of someone looking at a bug.

“Why did you do this, brother?”

“Ugh, wait….”

“Why did you want to kill me?”

“It’s my position…! You bastard! It’s my place to sit! The true knight is me!”

Fritz’s words, filled with greed and lacking in thought, were not beyond Keldric’s expectations.

Fritz was aiming for Hilmor’s position, that is, the head of the Bellaf family.

That was why he had concocted such a foolish plan.

Keldric looked at Fritz with disdainful eyes.

Seemingly exhausted from shouting, Fritz was now gasping for breath.

Keldric was busy.

There were still too many things to pay attention to.

Though he desperately wanted to have a long conversation with Fritz, it was no longer feasible to waste time.

“Then, what about the two outside? Didn’t you say the mercenaries were only ten?”

“How would I know…! Aaaah!!”

Naturally, Fritz did not easily answer.

Thanks to that, what was left of Fritz’s right arm twisted like a geometric pattern.

“Who are they?”

“They’re family! Family servants! I bribed them!”

Keldric’s eyes darkened.

He had considered that there might be a traitor among the servants, but he never thought it would actually be true.

“It would be best to call Maurice and Peter. Malcolm is in the armory.”

“Brother Hilmor—”

“Y-yeah….”

Maurice and Peter, along with Malcolm, were the only three soldiers of the Bellaf family.

With a traitor among the servants, the safety of Hilmor and Lady Bellaf had to be ensured.

“Now that you’ve said it…”

Crack!

“Gahhh!”

Keldric broke one of Fritz’s fingers.

He was still angry about Yakov being stabbed.

“Brother, just one more thing. Is there a signal to call the cavalry you’ve prepared?”

Keldric’s rough hand now grasped Fritz’s left ankle.

Fritz, unable to speak due to the suffocating pain, could only wheeze.

Whether it was an interrogation or something else, Keldric knew nothing about this aspect.

He had to rely solely on brute force.

“This time, it’s the ankle.”

“Just raise the torch high and spin it! Like drawing a circle!”

In the end, unable to withstand the pain, Fritz waved the white flag.

“Brother.”

“Uh, yes?”

Hilmor answered clumsily at Keldric’s call.

Hilmor’s eyes were trembling as he witnessed the limits of the human body right before him.

“I’m going to step outside for a moment.”

“Outside? Why?”

“Joseph is bringing the cavalry. We must stop them before they notice.”

As Keldric said this, he glanced at Fritz’s reaction.

And that was the correct move.

Upon hearing about the cavalry, Fritz’s body flinched.

“It might take a while.”

“Y-yeah. Be careful out there.”

“Brother… it seems you can handle it yourself.”

Keldric left the bedroom with the same decisive steps he had when he entered.

Immediately after, silence fell within the bedroom.

Hilmor felt as though he had seen a new side of Keldric.

But it was not a pleasant sight.

He was not the kind of person who would want to see his brother turn into a fool right in front of him.

Letting out a soft sigh, Hilmor leaned toward Fritz, who was occasionally convulsing.

“Fritz, it may not matter if the other lowly mercenaries die like dogs, but at least it would be a problem to kill you here as a member of our family.”

“The Count Yaven will decide your fate. I heard he’s coming soon.”

The sentence of death for a vassal was the lord’s prerogative.

Just in time, a letter had arrived stating that Baron Volpen would visit the hunting grounds of Carlton village, following Lord Volpen.

Hilmor had to keep Fritz alive until Baron Volpen arrived in the village.

“Until then… it wouldn’t be bad to have a long talk between brothers after a long time, would it?”

He gives a suitable amount of grace, yet repays grudges tenfold.

Though not a warrior, Hilmor was also a man of the North.