Rekindle the spirit of war

Chapter 33

The Marquis was sitting in his spacious study listening to the symphony.Tomorrow morning he will try a prisoner.He knew the man was kind and innocent, but he didn't have to rack his brains to convict him; he just had to say something.Although he does not have much right to speak in the parliament, he has almost absolute right to speak in the military court.

Behind his velvet-upholstered seat was a stone fireplace that hadn't been used since the heating pipes had spread underground to every corner of the city.Of course, heating systems stopped working in some areas as the weather warmed up.But this "partial area" does not include the location of the great noble mansion.

The Marquis took a sip of his wine and looked fascinated at the large oil painting of a war eagle on the wall.It is a symbol of his glorious bloodline.He knew that his surname was different from other noble surnames. "Warhawks" can't do magic, because they don't need it.Talent in combat is their most powerful "magic".

The orchestral concerto was suddenly mixed with a dissonant sound-it was a gunshot.The Marquis' face changed slightly, he put the wine glass on the table, and went out to see what happened.Three people pretended to be his servants and got into a fight with his subordinates.There were not many people, but it was so sudden that the subordinates were caught off guard.

The Marquis also learned about the battle in the corridor: in addition to the gunshots and men's roars, he could also hear the cracking of wood and a series of crisp sounds of glass chandeliers falling to the ground.He angrily yelled at the housekeeper until the other party hastily mobilized all his strength to destroy the person who came.

"After you catch them, peel off their faces and throw them to the dogs." The Marquis gave the order, and then returned to the study, sitting heavily on the chair.Although he believed that the three of them could be easily caught, he still remained angry.

I don't know what's going on.The old man who became a civilian hero for his voyage failed to speak up for the workers, and now his lackeys want to get back at me.It really is a group of nasty crows!

He slapped the arm of the chair hard.When he wanted to raise his hand, he couldn't do it.Two daggers pinned his hands to the back of the chair.He wanted to call someone at the first moment, but something cold quickly strangled his neck.It's very slender, which means it's sharp.

"Dear sir, please don't move or make noise." The voice behind him was much more youthful than that of an adult man, it should be a teenager. "You have sent everyone to the first floor. Even if you shouted, by the time they arrived, your noble head would have fallen to the ground."

The middle-aged man who had participated in countless battles quickly calmed down, and expelled the anger and annoyance of being plotted against by the young man out of his mind. "You can't enter the gate without a badge. Who helped you?"

Sean pulled the weapon, vigilant about the man's every move.Hearing this question, he was silent for a while. "No one helped us. You were too confident in your abilities, so you neglected to take precautions. This is our opportunity." It is interesting to cause conflicts among the nobles and make them dog-eat-dog, but he has no habit of crossing rivers and tearing down bridges.

"Are you here for the prisoner who will be court-martialed on Monday?"

The steel wire tightened suddenly, sinking into the flesh.Sean corrected his tone with an emphasis: "He is not a prisoner! He did nothing wrong, he just wanted to speak for a certain group of civilians. We are here to let you release innocent people and accept his petition."

The man wanted to sneer at "how the common people are so whimsical", but he knew that the body shaking from laughing would hurt his neck. "It's impossible. A commoner with some status and thousands of dirty workers want me to agree? Absolutely impossible."

"You are so wrong. There are far more than a few thousand people who want to petition for this." Sean said, tying the man's body to the chair with steel wires.As long as the opponent struggles, the thin and sharp steel wire will cut the flesh like a sharp knife. "I hear there's a city-wide sound system in this room. I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I borrowed it, would you?"

Sean walked to the desk and began to fiddle with the mechanical sound transmission device on the desk.This allowed the Marquis to see his face. "You don't use masks anymore?"

"Yes. Starting tonight, the 'crow' will disappear." Sean replied briefly, not going to explain further.He has to hurry up and talk about more important things.Sean cleared his throat and picked up the gramophone.

"My dear countrymen: I am sorry to disturb you this evening. We all know that in the past few decades, machinery has made our lives much better than before. But this is only one aspect. Machinery makes people greedy, and some people So the Jieri are surviving amidst the noise and the smoke, and they get far less than they give. A respectable old gentleman couldn't see this and delivered a petition to members of Parliament yesterday morning. Unfortunately, He was sent to prison and will be tried tomorrow. You should have seen what happened in the newspapers. Is this fair? Not fair! War Eagle is just a person, and he ruined the wishes of most civilians with one sentence!"

"That petition has only a few thousand signatures," the Marquis protested in a low voice unwillingly.He was also unable to speak aloud due to the stranglehold on his neck.

"Come on, there are more than these people who really want to oppose you." Sean retorted, and then continued to pick up the gramophone: "If you have the slightest respect or sympathy for this kind and harmless old man; He agrees with what he asserts in the petition. Then act! This fellow who runs the court martial is nothing but scum. Let us gather before his mansion and let him see the power of the people! If If he doesn't apologize and fix his mistakes, we'll just level this place!"

"They won't come, kid, because of fear. They're afraid of me, so they won't come."

"Fear?" Sean chewed the word softly.He wanted to swear a little, but in front of the sound transmission system facing the whole city, he had to regulate his words and deeds. "Are you afraid of this high-ranking, dead-eating piece of shit? It's nothing—really nothing. Everyone has fears at times. But don't let fear take hold of your mind. Otherwise, the frightening fellow will ride us Oppress us overhead, like now. Don't be afraid of him! We can beat him!"

Let's call it a day, Sean thought.Already he heard the sound of quick, orderly footsteps, as loud as thunder.He knew his companion had left, and now it was his turn to get away.He put a document on the table. "Here is your letter of apology and a new proposal based on your petition. You may keep it, or you may tear it up—if you are not afraid of your mansion falling into ruins."

"You think a call to action can get people to action? How naive."

Shane smiled.That smile made the Marquis shudder. "No, it's not a call. It's a signal."

After saying that, Sean broke the glass and jumped out.There are enemies waiting for him in the courtyard, and he is already prepared.

Someone shot Sean before he hit the ground.The bullet grazed the outside of his arm, tore his clothing and burned his skin, but did little damage.

Sheehan also fired, and everyone who was shot fell to the ground with a fatal blow.This accuracy is really easy for him.With one bullet fired, Sean knew it was time to leave the mansion.The people who went up the stairs just now will come down soon, full of anger for always going the wrong way.If he stays, he will be beaten into a hornet's nest in all likelihood.

He crouched down and ran quickly, quickly reloading his empty gun on the way.The overheated barrel burned his fingers, but Sean didn't have time for that now.He rushed out of the Marquis' mansion and into the street.

The companions had gone first, as they had promised.Just as Sean was considering whether to take the carriage, something flying towards him prevented him from leaving.

It was an ancient crossbow with a thicker steel wire connected to the rear end.Sean used this thing for hunting in his previous life, but the one that attacked him was much bigger than the one he had used before.He could imagine the horrible scene of blood splatter and bones cracked when this thing shot at him.

As Sean dodged it, he caught a glimpse of his attacker out of the corner of his eye: a tall, muscular young man wearing black leather gloves emblazoned with war hawks.Is it the young master who let the dog hurt people?Sean guessed.

This discovery gave Sean a new idea.He is standing by the road.He held the steel wire that was still moving at the rear end of the weapon with his hand, and his palm ached from being strangled.There was a steam locomotive speeding past, and Sean threw the crossbow in his hand.It's stuck right next to the rearview mirror.

The car drove on as if there was no hindrance.This huge, iron-covered mobile tool that emits black smoke from time to time is a road hog on the road. The weight and strength of a man are not enough to stop it or deviate from its direction.

But the strong young man who is proud and arrogant is out of luck.He didn't have time to throw away the weapon in his hand, so his body was carried out by inertia.He staggered and rushed forward a few steps, and then slammed into the lamppost of the gas lamp.The steel pillar painted black made a clanking sound, and the polished glass lampshade broke away from the carved lamp post after violent vibrations, and fell together with the metal lamp holder, finally hitting the top of the man's head.

Shane laughed happily.He never liked the Warhawks.

The young man turned to look at him with fierce eyes. "Kid who doesn't know what to do. Haven't you heard the name 'War Eagle'?"

"Of course I've heard of it. The Warhawk family is good at fighting, short-lived, and likes to work with beasts." There was a gleam of hatred in Sean's eyes.

How could it be forgotten?When Warhawk hung his sister's body on the city wall to be mocked and birds pecked at her wounds; decades later, the family still took pleasure in destroying beautiful things.He used to surmise that the family never had anything to do with "conscience" in their curriculum when they were training as nobles. "Are we going to cheat, or fight like men?"

The young man's hand left the gun at his waist.He smiled ferociously, showing his white teeth: "Then fight like a man."

Sean knew he couldn't win.Of course.His body lacks strength and everything depends on speed.And the family he was facing now had a natural advantage in speed and strength; they were indeed worthy of the title of "Warhawks".Sneak attack is his current specialty, and he is often helpless in frontal combat.

Sean broke out in a cold sweat when he was caught.His experience told him that a tendon had been torn.But right now there was another thing that worried him.This guy seems very interested in who he is.His own eyes are dark red, and there is a mark of Levin's family on his chest, if the other party has a whim...

Sean struggled.The young man who grabbed his wrist hit him hard on the back, so strong that he almost dislocated his arm and fell to the ground.The sharp pain made Sean wake up a lot.Instead of wasting his energy in vain, he adjusted his breath and waited for the opportunity to escape.

The youth didn't mention Sheen; he thought he had won.And rightfully so!He comes from a noble family that has been famous for being good at war for hundreds of years!

Stretching his free hand forward, the young man stretched his neck and looked down over Sean's shoulder.He wanted to know which family's puppet ran out of this daring boy. "Once some people have 'human rights', they start to roam around recklessly. I want to see who you are, how dare you come to my house to be a knight!"

The enthusiastic young man suddenly lost his arrogance and stood there like a wooden stake.The dragon mark on the boy's chest reminded him of some terrible memories.He knew who it belonged to, and he knew that he would be in bad luck because of what happened tonight-a paranoid and weird guy who wouldn't allow anyone to touch his belongings.It took him a few seconds to find his voice: "You are actually his...this is fucking hell!"

Sean didn't know why the other party's attitude changed so quickly, but this momentary negligence had already provided him with an excellent opportunity.The way the opponent caught him was very clever, but he still had a way to get away.

There was the sound of bones breaking, followed by the explosion of guns going off.When the young man woke up from the annoyance of offending the pervert, he was even more annoyed to find that the young man had not only escaped, but also took the gun from his waist.Damn it, but it can't be all my fault, the young man finds a reason for himself in his heart; who knows that this monster will break his fingers and escape!

Sean endured the pain and held the broken finger in his palm, and raised the gun with his relatively unfamiliar left hand. "It's turned around now. Don't worry, I'm not going to shoot; I'm just making sure I can get out safely."

The author has something to say: Sorry for being late today>

In the next two chapters there will be idiots (hey)