My older sister is a villainous rich girl

Chapter 690 The Shepherd

Wayne and his group avoided the main roads with more traffic and instead traversed mountains and valleys, traveling day and night to reach the Southwest Province more quickly.

However, the mountain paths are not easily traversed by ordinary people, as they are inhabited not only by ferocious wild beasts but also by bandits and robbers.

As soon as the carriages entered the southwestern province, they were stopped by a group of bandits who had set traps and ambushed them on both sides of the dirt road.

Although the bandits scattered and fled immediately upon realizing that there was a large fish in front of them that could break through the fishing net, Wayne did not want to let them leave so easily.

The outcome of the battle was self-evident.

Looking at these subdued young men, each dressed in rags and carrying crude wooden sticks tied with kitchen knives, Wayne frowned deeply.

“They know they might be killed by well-equipped passersby someday, but if they don’t do this, they might not even survive today.” Olive removed her helmet, revealing a striking suit of gleaming plate armor and a longsword hanging at her waist.

Olive, who already had a close working relationship with Duke Wincher's mansion, accepted Wayne's invitation to join the magic corps almost without hesitation, much to Wayne's surprise. Given her status as an outstanding graduate of Clearstream Academy and her fellow student with Wayne, she undoubtedly possessed ample ability and qualifications.

Her addition provided ample logistical support for the batch of equipment developed by Professor Conley that the magicians were equipped with.

Wayne would not overlook the potential for magical items to achieve a surprising victory.

“…I understand what you mean, but that’s not a reason for them to rob us.” He was a little angry.

These people were simply unlucky to have run into Wayne and his gang of tough guys, which is why their malicious intentions failed. If they had encountered ordinary people who were powerless to resist their atrocities, it's not hard to imagine what would have happened next.

Or perhaps these people had already committed the same crimes several times before.

On the other hand, Urban also offered his advice.

“Young Master Wayne, even this wilderness has an owner. Commoners are not even allowed to cut down trees or hunt. If they are caught, they will be considered to have stolen the lord’s property. Since it is also the lord’s duty to apprehend thieves and bandits, if we hand them over to the lords in the vicinity, I believe we will be grateful to them.”

Wayne's brow furrowed even more.

The bandits were all thin and pale, and they were even more terrified when they heard Urban's words.

"My esteemed and kind young master, we only wish to acquire some wealth for our household expenses, and we have no intention of taking lives! Please spare our lives. If we fall into the hands of that wolfish noble lord, we will surely suffer a fate worse than death!"

The others also cried and begged for mercy, extolling the cruelty of the noble lords' exploitation, which left them starving and forced to live as bandits.

Wayne thought for a moment and said, “If you are only acting out of desperation and are not repeat offenders, then you must be residents of nearby villages and towns. Come with me to town, and I will oversee the local governor to conduct a public trial for your crimes.”

The bandits looked ashen-faced, but they knew they couldn't resist and could only obey.

“However, this might expose our whereabouts prematurely,” a seasoned knight whispered a reminder.

"So what? We're already in the southwestern province. Whether we go from the provincial capital into the countryside or from the countryside into the provincial capital, it doesn't make much difference." He gently spurred his horse, and the big black horse rode off ahead.

The others exchanged glances and immediately followed suit.

……

As the governor of the rural town of Ritsburn, Poppen thought he would spend his life leisurely like the lazy sheep on the hillside.

Although Ritsburn is located near a major transportation route, it is neglected because there are two more prosperous cities not far away. The flat cobblestone roads there are more than enough for ten carriages to travel abreast, and caravans gather there to conduct business. As a result, Ritsburn, which does not even have a decent tavern, is always deserted.

Without the movement of people, there is no commerce; without commerce, there is no wealth.

The people of Ridgeburn lived in poverty, and any young person with even a little ambition would go to the nearby big city to make a living and never return.

But ultimately it has nothing to do with Pope.

As the local governor, he at least kept a flock of sheep that could leisurely roam the meadows. With these fine, fat sheep, which were highly regarded in the nearby taverns and castles, he was always able to earn his share from the local nobles.

Every day, he would herd his sheep from one end of the village to the other, and then back again, to ensure they had tender and delicious meat. He treated the lambs with more care than his own sons.

On this day, Pope once again drove the sheep from one end of the village to the other. However, Ridsburn, which was usually deserted, was unusually blocked at the town entrance by dozens of tall horses.

Pope was alarmed by the sight. Ritsburn only had about a hundred people in total, and less than half of them were able-bodied. Outsiders rarely stopped by. The sight of these people, fully armed and in orderly ranks, suggested that trouble was on their way.

Before he could even decide whether he should hide, he heard a steady and clear voice from the cavalry: "Uncle, I heard you are the governor here?"

As these words fell, the cavalry parted slightly, revealing the figure of one person.

Pope looked up and saw an extremely handsome young man sitting high on a black horse with shiny fur. He was dressed in a bright brocade robe with gold embroidery, and a colorful phosphorescent feather of unknown origin was pinned to the brim of his hat, which was dazzling in the sunlight.

"You, you..."

Such an extraordinary-looking young man must be wealthy and noble. Popp's brain raced, trying to guess the man's identity, but no matter how fast he racked his brains, it was all mush; he couldn't recall any useful information. In his nervousness, Popp even stammered, "You...I...this..."

Wayne sized up the man for a while, his gaze lingering for a moment, especially on the flock of sheep behind him.

"We are a caravan from the capital. To save time, we took a secluded path, but we were robbed by bandits along the way. After a fierce battle, we have captured them all. Perhaps some of them are residents of this village or town. Do you recognize them?"

With a slight wave of his hand, the ragged bandits, bound with thick ropes, were pulled forward in a line from the very end of the procession.

It was only then that Pope realized the other side was holding hostages.

His eyes widened: "Gods above! Our village doesn't have so many bandits and robbers!"

"Hmm? You don't recognize any of the people inside?" Wayne asked with a hint of threat. "You'd better look carefully. If I hand them over directly to the lord of this place, and it turns out you're deliberately protecting the bandits in the area, who knows what will happen to you."

Popper, who had intended to vehemently deny any involvement, froze.

He was appointed governor of this tiny town of Ritsburn only because of his expertise in shepherding, while the true owner of this land was Viscount Frode, who was known as the "Lion of Blood".

If the person before him had a powerful background, and the tyrannical Viscount Freud was only interested in appeasing his anger as soon as possible, then even if he was innocent, he would probably be pushed out to take the blame.

Chapter 691 I am the King's Special Envoy

Popper, using his usual manners of ingratiating himself with the noble gentlemen in the castle, revealed a very humble and bitter expression, every muscle controlled to show just the right curve.

"My lord!" he pleaded helplessly, his voice tinged with fear. "I am but an ordinary commoner who supplements my family's income by selling mutton to noble lords. How could I possibly have the audacity to collude with bandits!"

“But you are also the governor of this town, the most powerful person here, aren’t you?” Wayne remained unmoved. “Aren’t you willing to fulfill your duties?”

Seeing that he couldn't shirk responsibility, Pope had no choice but to return to the administration office with Wayne's accompaniment (or coercion) to handle the robbery case under the guise of official business.

Despite being called an administrative building, it was actually just a large thatched house. Its only advantage was its open space, with a wooden signboard at the entrance.

The town wasn't very big. Wayne and his group walked in from the only main road at the entrance of the village. At first, the residents on both sides only dared to stand not far away and watch. After hearing that a group of bandits had been caught, they all whispered and discussed among themselves. Before long, a large crowd of onlookers gathered.

Wayne gestured to the guards to take the bandits to the notice board and line them up.

"Some of these bandits claim to be residents of Ritsburn. Is anyone willing to come forward and identify them?" Before Pope could even speak, Wayne seized the initiative and loudly asked the crowd who were watching.

Under Wayne's sharp gaze, the townspeople all avoided his eyes with furtive expressions.

"This case will be tried in the open throughout, with documents recorded on the side. Anyone who provides accurate clues will be rewarded." Wayne casually pulled a small bag from his saddlebag and shook it. The bag contained a large number of silver coins, each worth one shilling, which made a distinctive, crisp sound as they clattered together.

This was loose change that he had specially exchanged before setting off for convenience.

One shilling equals 12 pence.

Even with the relatively high prices in the capital, buying a sheep at the market only costs one silver coin bearing the king's image.

With such a generous reward, the townspeople couldn't resist any longer, and a burly man with a full beard stepped forward first.

“I know one of them,” he muttered. “The kid on the far left once lost six pence to me playing dice in a tavern in Sheri. As soon as I left town, he and his gang robbed me of the money. I’ll never forget that, even ten years from now!”

“He was a notorious loafer in Ridgeburn since he was a child, and he did plenty of petty theft. Years ago, he boasted that he was going out to make his way in the world and hasn’t been back to town for a long time. I had long predicted that someone like him would cause a lot of trouble one day, and sure enough, he has joined the bandits. It’s true that old habits die hard.”

Wayne looked in the direction he pointed.

The freckled young man shrank back and lowered his head.

“What about the others?” Wayne continued.

The big man shook his head. "I've never seen them before. They don't seem to be from our town."

"What's your name?"

"Hank is the town's butcher."

Wayne took a coin from his bag and tossed it over; a flash of silver traced a beautiful arc in the air before landing squarely in the bearded man's hand. Hank, beaming with delight, stuffed it into his pocket, his face full of anticipation as he awaited the next question.

But Wayne stopped looking at him and asked Pope instead, "According to the laws of the kingdom, what kind of punishment should these people be given?"

Popp looked around at the imposing guards, wanting to express his displeasure at being overshadowed, but he didn't dare.

"If a commoner robs a nobleman... he should be whipped ten times and then hanged."

He carefully and subtly observed the other person's reaction, trying to discern something.

"Oh? What if civilians rob civilians?" Wayne continued to ask casually, as if he were just curious.

Pope had no idea who the other party was, but he also felt that even if he didn't cooperate, he couldn't possibly resist so many of them. So, he gritted his teeth and decided to go all in. He leaned close to Wayne and whispered with a fawning smile, "The laws of the kingdom are, after all, the laws of the kingdom. In our remote little town, we don't care about so many formalities... Just let me know what kind of result you want, and I know what to do, hehehe."

The situation was beyond my control. At worst, I could just get rid of these people as soon as possible and then find a way to inform Viscount Frode. I couldn't possibly be a shepherd like myself, charging ahead and fighting to the death.

As he thought this, he grinned, revealing his slightly protruding buck teeth.

Wayne created some distance.

Pope, not understanding what he meant, winked at him earnestly.

"Arrest him!" Wayne ordered.

As soon as he finished speaking, the guards who were standing by on both sides immediately took action, grabbing Pope from the left and right and lifting him off the ground.

"Wait, wait! What do you mean?! I am the governor here! You people of unknown origin can't treat me like this!" Popp was terrified and struggled frantically but had no strength to break free.

“Where are the previous case records for Ritsburn?” Wayne asked the clerk beside him directly. “Bring them here, I need to review them on-site.”

This unexpected move caused an uproar among the villagers who had been observing from the sidelines.

“From the moment I stepped into this village, all I saw were simple, dilapidated thatched houses, muddy, potholed roads that were difficult to travel on, and most of the residents were emaciated and lacked food and clothing. Yet your flock of sheep is all quite plump. As the local governor, you value sheep herding more than the herdsmen, and now you are making outrageous remarks and openly disregarding the laws of the kingdom. Where do you place His Majesty the King’s dignity?”

Wayne didn't even bother to hear his answer and simply ordered his men to tie him to the bulletin board.

“I am the King’s special envoy. From this moment on, I will requisition Ritsburn as the vanguard camp. Since you have such a disregard for the laws of the kingdom, how can you serve as a governor under the kingdom’s rule? I will inform the lord of this place to choose another capable person.”

Butcher Hank was greatly surprised upon hearing this, as if a flash of inspiration had struck him: "Could it be—you are Lord Wayne Wincher, who was ordered by King Lornes to personally lead a large army to suppress the rebel forces?!"

Now it was Wayne's turn to be surprised.

"My appointment order has not been issued for long, yet even the villagers in this seemingly isolated town have heard of my name. It seems that even though we are far from the capital, some information is still more readily available than I thought."

Hank straightened his back instinctively, and he nervously wiped the oil stains on his clothes that were hard to wash off from his frequent slaughtering, and explained, "No, I only found out from people talking about it in the neighboring town of Sheri. I am the only butcher in Ritsburn, and Lord Pope often orders me to slaughter various livestock and deliver Ritsburn's meat to the lords in the city."

"Then you must also know something about that local lord?"

Upon hearing this question, whose intentions were quite obvious, Hank looked troubled, seemingly unsure how to respond.

Chapter 692 Easy and Difficult

About 20 miles from Ritzburn, there is the town of Sheri.

“Our informants have gathered information that a 20,000-strong pacification army will pass through the east in about a week. Unlike the incompetent fodder of the past, this time the royal city has dispatched a highly skilled force, seemingly serious. However, it is said that Wayne Wincher is not currently in the camp.” A deep voice echoed in the stone-brick castle's meeting hall.

Perhaps due to military considerations, the castle was not designed with lighting in mind, resulting in extremely dark interiors in every room, requiring the use of numerous candles and torches for illumination when necessary.

If it were the wealthy nobles of the capital, they could disregard costs and lavishly decorate their magnificent banquet halls with various magic stones or magic arrays, making the interiors opulent and resplendent. However, in the remote city of Sheri, even ordinary magicians with rudimentary skills could become Viscount Freud's honored guests simply by virtue of their status. Therefore, they couldn't afford to waste so much manpower and resources on mere superficial pomp.

"Having been groomed for so many years as the next heir to the Duke of Winchester, how could he be an ordinary person?"

With another sigh, the red-haired man, who was intently examining the huge map, slowly turned around, casting a large shadow behind him in the candlelight on the table.

"However, these people are often exceptionally talented and have powerful backgrounds. They are used to being pampered and often have high aspirations and are arrogant and disdainful of others. They always think that as long as they put in a little effort, they can achieve great things in the outside world."

He was short and stout but sturdy, with a fierce look in his eyes. His exquisite aristocratic attire seemed to be trying to confine a ferocious beast within the bounds of human social etiquette, and his protruding belly was almost bursting through the buttons of his clothes.

This unassuming man was Viscount Frode, the lord of several nearby cities and lands. On his territory, no one could escape his clutches, just as bleeding prey could not escape the lion's jaws.

“The terrain in Kabritz to the east is flatter, so from the perspective of facilitating troop movement, they probably won’t choose to go through Sheri. Since the purpose is to suppress the rebel forces that are trying to restore the Principality of Milistan, these troops must be stationed near the former capital of the province, Bufania, so that it is convenient to project power throughout Milistan.”

The man analyzing the intelligence was Sir Nar, the chief of the guard who oversaw all defenses within the entire viscount's territory. As Floyd's chief knight, he was Floyd's most trusted right-hand man.

"No matter which route they take, we have to pay them a visit when they pass through. Ha, and it's not just me; I'm sure those guys in Buffalo are also quite restless, counting down the days to welcome that young master from the capital." Floyd smiled meaningfully.

Before Nar could say anything, a soldier burst into the council chamber.

“Your Excellency Viscount Floyd, Commander Nar! Someone from Ritz has come to see you, saying that there is something extremely urgent and of great importance that must be reported in person!”

Upon hearing this, Captain Nar and Viscount Frode exchanged a glance, both harboring a sense of foreboding.

……

“Viscount Floyd…” Wayne pondered, holding the interrogation transcript.

He had heard this man's name in reports from various investigations of the southwestern province. In the mouths of the Milistan restoration forces, this man was a lackey of the kingdom, as tyrannical as a lion and as venomous as a scorpion. Yet, in the kingdom's official records, he was a loyal and righteous man who had repeatedly rendered meritorious service, fighting valiantly for the kingdom.

Behind these two diametrically opposed evaluations lies the infighting among many interest groups.

If one were to reside in the capital or the imperial court, it would likely be equally difficult to ascertain the true situation of the lower classes in Milstein. However, the moment one steps into the southwestern province, the truth becomes impossible to conceal. The incompetent nobles may fabricate reports and manipulate documents, but they cannot fabricate the true state of people's lives.