Welcome to Hell! - Chapter 233: Evening Party Riot (3)

Liselotte and Fiora left Cornell and Marianne’s side and stepped out of the room where the evening party was taking place. Although “outside” meant only the balcony leading to the venue of the evening party, it was one of the count’s mansion’s most scenic spots which offered a splendid view of the beautiful garden.

The time was gradually shifting towards evening and it wasn’t as bright as midday. Yet the garden illuminated by the setting sun created a unique scenery that could only be appreciated at this time.

“The garden is beautiful, isn’t it? Don’t you think so, Lady Fiora?”

“Pleashe call me Fio. Lady Lishelotte.”

“Fufu, is that so? Then I shall call you Lady Fio. In return, please call me Liese.”

“Aight. Big shishter Lieshe.”

Fiora had instinctively seen in Liselotte the ideal image of a young lady she aspired to be. With a graceful demeanor, she showed respect to her superiors without being overly humble… In essence, Fiora admired Liselotte.

Although Liselotte couldn’t fully grasp Fiora’s true feelings, she understood that Fiora had grown fond of her. Since the little girl was the granddaughter of her great-aunt’s friend and since Lieselotte herself was quite fond of cute things, she felt nothing but joy being adored by the small and cute Fiora. In fact, calling each other by nicknames was something they both desired.

However, even though they had become close, the matter of family status remained. Fiora was the daughter of a marquis, and Liselotte, soon to inherit her family, was still just a count’s daughter. With their families being almost equal in status within the country, Liselotte, even as the older one of the two, felt it necessary to show proper respect to Fiora due to their respective standings.

Fiora slightly furrowed her well-shaped eyebrows, but even though she was still young, she was beginning to grasp the complexities of noble life. She decided to be pleased that she could now be called by the nickname Fio.

“Lady Fio, do you often attend evening parties like this one?”

“No, it’sh my firsht time.”

“My! It’s your first time? Yet, you handle greetings so well; that’s very commendable. You will surely become a charming lady.”

As the two of them were looking at the scenery and chatting about their hometowns, a scream that sounded like tearing silk pierced the air from inside the venue. Liselotte instinctively moved to protect Fiora while trying to glimpse what was happening inside.

Inside the venue, a woman elegantly dressed was being held hostage, a blade pressed against her throat. There were other people dressed as servants but they were armed and they were blocking the entrances and exits of the venue; the atmosphere in the venue was extremely tense.

“We are warriors who have risen in concern for the plight of the refugees! Our sole purpose is to intensify the relief efforts for the refugees who continue to suffer!”

The person who demanded so loudly was a large man dressed as a gardener. Judging from the fact that he was standing next to the man holding the woman hostage, he was probably the leader of this reckless group.

The large man’s request echoed throughout the venue. At first, the room fell silent, but it quickly filled with voices of protest and indignation.

“How dare you! Release the lady at once!”

“Unbelievable audacity for those who are being provided for! Shame on you!”

The majority of those gathered at the evening party were nobles and except for a few like Marianne who couldn’t refuse the invitation, these were the sort of people who delighted in attending such lavish events. It was no surprise then that their responses to the situation were far from gracious. They hurled vile insults at the criminals.

Yet, despite being showered with such relentless verbal abuse, the bandits remained cool and composed, as if they had anticipated this reaction. Perhaps their unperturbed demeanor angered the nobles even more as they raised their voices even further and shouted insults that were unbearable to listen to.

“Everyone, calm down! Creating a commotion won’t solve anything!”

“What if my wife gets hurt?!”

However, there were some among the nobles who silenced the aristocrats who were making a fuss in order to have a dialogue to free the hostage. Those capable of such composed judgment were typically of higher nobility. In particular, a small old man with an intimidating gaze sharply reprimanded the crowd and the noisy nobles instantly fell silent, bringing immediate quiet to the hall.

In the midst of all this, it was the husband of the woman taken hostage who was still pale and sweating greasily after the nobles had been silenced and quieted down. The man was known for his deep love for his wife so he would undoubtedly go to any lengths to ensure her safe return.

On the other hand, it seemed no coincidence that the bandits had targeted the wife of such a devoted husband. None among the more level-headed nobles considered this a mere coincidence, and they all realized that this attack was part of a meticulously planned scheme.

“Now that it’s quiet, let’s discuss our demands… For the further support for the unjustly oppressed refugees. I’ll elaborate on the specifics, but save your questions until after I’ve finished… and don’t move.”

The ones attempting to move quietly were those with the power to fight, including the warriors serving the “Goddess of Protection” who had entered the venue as attendants. With their strength, they were likely capable of overpowering the bandits. Even if they were inferior to the likes of Antares, they were still first-class fighters.

However, it was crucial not to forget that the bandits had a hostage. Rescuing the hostage unharmed while subduing the bandits was a heavy task, even for those skilled, due to the lack of coordinated teamwork. Moreover, the bandits did not seem like mere refugees but rather skilled fighters judging from their demeanor. They reluctantly abandoned the idea of resistance.

“It seems you understand. Should anyone move, this lady’s face will acquire a permanent scar each time. Keep that in mind.”

Despite the piercing stares from the frustrated nobles, the leader of the bandits remained unfazed. This attitude came from the fact that he was convinced that he had the upper hand, and this also hurt the self-esteem of the nobles.

Seizing the moment of silence among the nobles, the bandit leader began to detail his demands. As he stated, the ultimate goal was unmistakably “relief for the refugees” However, the demands were diverse.

They ranged from food support, job facilitation, reorganization of refugee camps, construction of row houses instead of mere tents, to guarantees of life in other territories…. He made various demands and they were also so extensive that the nobles who were instructed to remain silent grew agitated.

“Ri-ridiculous!”

“How could we possibly do that?”

“…. Didn’t I tell you to remain silent until the end? Hey, you!”

“Yes!”

Especially the younger and less self-controlled among the nobles exploded in anger and started shouting furiously. Their words represented the collective will of everyone who was faced with such outrageous demands, but…it was a complete bad move.

After glancing briefly at the yelling nobles, the leader of the bandits casually instructed his subordinate next to him. And then without hesitation, the subordinate ran a blade across the cheek of the woman they held hostage.

The blade cut shallowly yet it unmistakably sliced through the lady’s skin. Blood seeped out faintly, trickling down in a thin red line. The pain of the cut seemed less significant to the lady than the heightened sense of danger to her life. Her already pale face turned ashen.

“Bastaard! What have you done to the lady?!”

“Fool My wife, my wife!”

“Gih-? Gah-?”

The young noble who had raised his voice directed his righteous anger towards the despicable man harming the woman. However, before he could finish his sentence, his handsome face was distorted by a powerful fist, fueled by an anger surpassing even his own righteous indignation.

The one who struck the young noble was the husband, whose wife’s face had been marred. The mere fact that his beloved wife was captured and threatened was agonizing enough for him, let alone seeing her harmed by the blade. He felt as if he himself had been slashed and was overwhelmed by a sense of unbearable torment.

He had thought about it. What should he do to prevent the situation from worsening? The answer was to silence the agitated young man and do so forcibly if necessary.

“Silence! Stop at once! She will die if it continues like this! Phew… I apologize. Please, continue… However, in light of the young man’s pitiful state lying there, I ask you to refrain from laying a hand on the lady.”

“Very well, I shall forgive this time, in honor of the old man. But now, for our final demand: we seek assistance in rebuilding our homeland. There are many refugees who yearn to tread upon their native soil. Do you have any objections?”

As soon as the demands were made, the nobles seized the opportunity to verbally assault them. The words they spewed were excessively ornate, almost devoid of substance. But if one were to extract the key points, they were essentially saying, “We have already provided sufficient support and are suffering because of it.”

The leader of the bandits remained calm even after being showered with such vehement insults. More than that, he seemed to be holding back laughter as his lips curled up slightly in amusement. This attitude of mocking condescension greatly irritated the nobles.

“What’s so funny?!”

“Heh… my apologies. It’s just, I never expected to hear tales of ‘suffering’ from those who attend a luxurious evening party wearing fine clothes.”

“What do you mean…?”

“Refugees who fled their homes set ablaze, faced unfair treatment wherever they went, struggled daily for food, and some even resorted to crime to survive. Then there’s the capital’s people, suffering from increased taxes due to the war and deteriorating public safety. And here you the nobles sit atop them, savoring delicacies from land and sea and fine wines while speaking of ‘sufferng’ with well-fed tongues. If this isn’t funny, what is?”

The leader of the bandits seemed genuinely amused as he spoke, yet he had flames of hatred burning intensely in his eyes. It appeared the other bandits shared the same sentiment. There should have been a larger number of nobles, but many of them instinctively retreated back as if they were frightened by the vision of the flames hatred.

Seeing the nobles cower in fear, the leader of the bandits stopped laughing, seemingly satisfied. He continued, “What is your response?” Faced with this question, the nobles were unable to reply immediately and the venue fell into silence.