FL - Chapter 62: Heads

The sacks opened.

More than thirty blood-soaked heads tumbled across the center of the banquet hall, striking the floor with a succession of heavy thuds.

One landed faceup, its features twisted and its eyes wide with defiance.

The hall fell silent.

The boisterous nobles stood frozen, staring at the grisly display.

Count Firth gaped at the pile, his throat bobbing. "Wh-what... What is this?!"

Zachary's smile locked in place. He stumbled back half a step, his face twisting.

Louis remained calm, like he had brought nothing more than an ordinary gift.

"Whitefeather Canyon. We annihilated an elite Snowsworn unit attempting to raid the south. Not one escaped. Their heads are before you."

Zachary recovered and forced a sneer through gritted teeth. "Is that all? A few barbarian heads justified delaying the Count's banquet?"

He pressed forward as though he had found a weakness in Louis's story.

"Or did you bring these bloody trophies here to pose as a war hero and hope no one questioned you?"

Count Firth's face darkened. "This isn't a military camp. Bringing such filth here to boast is disgraceful."

The surrounding nobles murmured, their skeptical gazes sweeping over Louis.

"They're probably fake."

"House Calvin certainly knows how to put on a show."

The mockery spread.

Louis made no attempt to defend himself. He merely smiled and remained where he stood.

Jon strode forward in fury. "I saw it myself!

"Every one of these heads was taken at Whitefeather Canyon! They belonged to an elite Snowsworn assault unit in heavy armor. Their fighting strength was far beyond that of ordinary soldiers."

He glared at the nobles who still doubted them. "We nearly died there. While you sat here drinking and laughing, Baron Calvin was risking his life against the Snowsworn!"

The whispers faltered, then resumed.

"He talks like some great hero."

"This performance has gone on long enough."

An older northern noble with graying hair stepped forward.

He narrowed his eyes at a gaunt, withered head among the pile. His expression changed sharply.

"Th-this... This is Haskell!"

His voice trembled with unmistakable hatred and excitement. "That old dog hid in the snow forests for years and specialized in night raids. Three years ago, his men burned down half my estate!"

Another gray-robed noble cursed. "He attacked my uncle's camp, took his head, and wiped out his entire household. This man should've died years ago!"

At the name Haskell, many nobles from Snowpeak County reacted at once.

Some cursed under their breath. Others drew sharp breaths. A few had tears reddening their eyes.

Haskell wasn't a mighty warrior whose name shook the Northlands. He was cunning, brutal, and an expert in ambushes and night raids.

For more than a decade, he had harassed the territories of Snowpeak County through guerrilla warfare. Murder and arson were routine to him.

He was so elusive that repeated encirclement campaigns had failed, each escape making him more brazen.

And now that old scourge was dead.

"It is him... I could never forget that hideous face!"

The northern noble ground out the words, staring at Haskell's head with the satisfaction of a man whose blood feud had been avenged.

The nobles who had questioned Louis fell silent.

Even Count Firth straightened in his seat, doubt replaced by shock.

"Haskell is truly dead?"

"And this young man killed him?"

"Such an achievement at his age!"

The nobles who had suffered under Haskell now looked at Louis with a mixture of shock, admiration, and gratitude.

Jon stepped forward, having waited eagerly for this moment.

"That's right! Louis personally led the assault, killed dozens of enemies, and took Haskell's head with his own hands!

"The whole battle was swift and decisive. Even after he was wounded, he refused to retreat!"

His voice rose with every sentence. Combined with his sweeping gestures, it looked like an impromptu reenactment of the battle.

"He charged into their ranks, killed three men with one swing, and dragged Haskell down the slope! I swear I'll never forget it!"

"Jon," Louis warned quietly.

Jon closed his mouth at once.

Louis showed no pride. He offered a faint smile. "A minor contribution. Hardly worth mentioning."

When the old northern nobles looked at him again, their eyes had changed.

The scorn was gone.

In its place was genuine respect, along with a measure of gratitude.

The southern colonization nobles had also begun whispering among themselves.

"The young man has real ability."

"Zachary kept calling him a useless playboy, but now..."

Several glanced between Zachary and Louis, hesitation entering their eyes.

Zachary stood at the edge of the crowd, his expression shifting repeatedly.

He could feel the colonization nobles' attention drifting away from him and toward Louis.

"Damn it..." His fists clenched.

The trap meant to humiliate Louis had become a performance in which Louis took center stage.

Zachary had become the fool.

He said nothing else. Instead, he withdrew into the crowd and waited for another opportunity.

Count Firth looked both shocked and furious.

He didn't care who Haskell was, how much suffering the man had caused, or how impressive Louis's victory had been.

He cared only that Louis had shown him no respect and stolen the attention from him.

He was about to erupt when Louis turned to him with deep deference.

"In truth, most of the credit belongs to your strategic planning and intelligence support, Count Firth.

"Without the scouts you sent to warn us and your instructions for our deployment, our counter-ambush could never have succeeded."

Silence swept through the hall. The nobles exchanged uncertain looks.

Count Firth blinked. "I... sent what?"

He had no memory of dispatching anyone. He had never met Louis before tonight.

Then thoughts of military merit, glory, and the admiration of his peers passed through his mind.

His Self-Memory Revision Art activated on its own.

Two seconds later, his eyes brightened and a satisfied smile touched his lips.

A new memory had appeared in his mind. He now recalled "personally dispatching scouts," complete with vivid details.

"Ha, ha, ha!" Count Firth burst out laughing.

"That's right! It was all my arrangement!" He slapped his thigh, radiating pride. "You haven't disappointed me after all!"