My older sister is a villainous rich girl

No wonder the repeated suppression of rebellions in the southwestern provinces often turned out to be nothing more than a waste of resources and ineffective. In this place that has long been neglected by the Kingdom of Lornes, there are enough seeds and soil; given the right conditions, it will eventually bear fruit.

"We'll first set up camp outside Ritsburn town and work with Professor Conley's equipment to set up the magic circle."

Senior Sister Olive accepted the order and left.

“Reply to the main force and tell them to speed up their march. Next, we will pass through the gates of the nearby city of Sheri, making sure that the people inside the city see that our military discipline is different from the past. Then we will choose a place to encamp between Sheri and Bukalitz.”

The other two magicians left to prepare to send a message.

The 20,000 well-equipped and well-trained regular army was an unprecedented size. Given the long-standing poverty and weakness of the southwest, it was no longer capable of raising another force strong enough to confront it head-on, and the same was true for those so-called "rebel" forces that were a motley crew.

No matter who occupies a place and openly raises the flag of rebellion, as long as the kingdom's army presses in, it will be an overwhelming force. Therefore, the rebels can only hide behind the scenes and stir up trouble by using methods such as infiltration, bribery, and assassination.

As for the local tycoons who have accumulated wealth through plunder and exploitation, they usually just try to collude with gangs or bandits to arm themselves. They are good at bullying the people and oppressing the villagers, but they are no match for regular troops.

For this reason, after the news of the kingdom's army's arrival spread, both gangsters and bandits, as well as the previously rampant rebellious forces, all chose to lie low for a period of time, avoiding direct confrontation, and then make a comeback after the suppression forces left.

That's why Wayne was so concerned about these roadblocks. The armed forces camped in the mountains and forests might very well be hiding behind a pattern of nobles and rebels deliberately raising bandits and exchanging benefits with each other.

To his disappointment, the people he captured were just ordinary bandits, while the nobles of the southwest were particularly attentive to his movements and had probably already made corresponding preparations. It was only the impoverished lives of these commoners at the bottom of the food chain that could not be faked, and that the powerful disdained to feign them.

“If you have any doubts, why don’t you go to Sheri yourself? The little viscount has no chance of acting rashly in front of you,” Urban urged from the side.

“Killing a person is easy, but eradicating deep-seated problems is difficult. What I want is that after I leave the Southwest, what I brought with me and the achievements I made will not be usurped by others.” Wayne looked at the silent butcher Hank, “You will be my messenger and deliver messages to the nearby towns.”

Chapter 693 We Will Meet Again

That night.

Apart from a makeshift tavern converted from an ordinary house, Ridsburn had no other entertainment venues. However, even just a few sips of cheap liquor were a rare treat for the hardworking commoners.

After all, even the worst wine is still a luxury made from precious grains.

Wayne took only a small sip, then raised the wooden bowl high without changing his expression: "Folks! Tonight, all the wine and meat are on me. Let's forget all the unpleasantness of the past for now, and let those damned nobles go to hell! Let's all drink to our hearts' content!"

"Whoa whoa whoa!" The deafening cheers almost lifted the roof off the tavern.

Large platters of cooked, succulent mutton were laid out on the table, generously provided by His Excellency Mr. Pope, the Consul of Ritsburn.

Almost everyone here has their eyes shining, a stark contrast to their dull and reserved demeanor during the day.

As the wine flowed freely and people became increasingly animated, some pounded on the table and sang loudly, others danced and gesticulated wildly in the crowd, and still others, unable to contain themselves, wailed as if they were in a deserted place: "I've forgotten when was the last time I ate and drank so heartily, waaaaah..."

The children, who were not allowed to drink alcohol, still gathered around the table, looking at Wayne with reverence: "You...you are really different from those nobles in the city. They treat us commoners like dirt, but you are willing to share the food on the nobles' plates with us commoners. Will you really bring us a more prosperous life?"

“Yes, I promise.” Wayne replied without hesitation.

People laughed and joked even more heartily, as if this extremely simple sentence had already given them a glimpse of a bright future where they would no longer have to suffer from hunger.

Senior Sister Olive sat quietly next to Wayne the whole time, witnessing everything before her eyes.

After the unprecedented feast in the town ended, on the way back to camp with Wayne, Olive asked softly, "Did this really make sense?"

Wayne was taken aback when he heard her question.

He then smiled.

"Why would it be meaningless? Everyone was having a great time tonight, weren't they?"

"You know that's not what I meant. It's certainly great to be happy now, but no matter how luxurious a meal is, they still have to face the same old life when they wake up tomorrow," she sighed.

Because of her noble birth, despite being the original founder of the Seiki Academy Student Council and the student with the best academic performance in her class, Olive suffered quite a bit in proving her abilities.

In a place like Seiki Academy, where princes and nobles roamed freely, the situation of lower-ranking nobles and commoners was not much different, a fact Olive was acutely aware of. She had also tried to bridge the class divide, but no matter how hard others tried to ignore it, the insurmountable chasm remained, unshakable.

Invisible threads divide the world of people, distinguishing between superiors and inferiors, nobles and commoners.

“A dream that vanishes upon waking, but through it, people can glimpse another possibility.” Wayne looked up at the moon, which hung serenely high in the night sky. “Like this moonlight, it never gives more light to anyone based on their status; it has simply been there since time immemorial. But people can add to it a brilliance far exceeding reality through their imagination, through poetry and song.”

"Our ideals are the same."

"If you want it to generate greater power, you must first give it a beautiful vision. Then, believe that it will come true and strive for it."

Olive stared blankly at Wayne, who was walking ahead and seemed to have a glowing head, then looked down at the moonlight shining equally on her.

She reached out and felt it carefully; it had no weight and she couldn't grasp its shape, but the light was definitely there.

Olive chuckled softly, "You always have a lot of fallacies, but every time you hear them, you can't help but want to believe them."

"Really? Then it must be due to Mr. Conley's excellent teaching."

"You mean he taught you the secrets of how to deceive people?"

"Hey, hey, you have to take responsibility for talking nonsense. Don't forget we're from the same school. How can you make such malicious assumptions about your mentor and junior brother?" Wayne protested sternly.

"Oh, I'm drunk. What I said tonight doesn't count. I'll forget about it tomorrow." Olive blinked.

Wayne was speechless for a moment. How come even Senior Sister Olive was starting to go astray?

With "being drunk" as a valid reason, Olive let go of the mental burden she had carried along the way and no longer insisted on maintaining a composed image as a senior.

“Actually, I’ve always felt very honored.” She opened up completely, “to be Professor Conley’s student, to be your senior, to be able to establish the student council at Qingxi Academy and to meet such an outstanding junior as Tasia.”

Upon hearing Tasia's name, Wayne's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly masked it.

"I... I also feel very lucky to have met everyone." Although he was a habitual liar, he genuinely felt this way.

However, he wanted to move on from the topic as soon as possible, but Senior Sister Olive was determined not to let him have his way. She rambled on and on, but eventually returned to Tasia.

"Sigh, I never expected that Tasia would suddenly stay at the Holy See. Perhaps the academy should negotiate with the Holy See and ask them to at least allow Tasia to complete her studies in the capital. I didn't even have time to say goodbye to Tasia, and I don't know when we'll meet again."

The atmosphere took a sharp turn for the worse, and now Wayne's laughter was about to turn into something else entirely.

“She decided to stay at the Vatican herself,” he could only explain in vain.

If Tasia insisted on returning to the academy, she would have had the confidence to fight even against the so-called god Wayne. However, Tasia colluded with the Church and completed all the succession rituals alone while concealing her actions, leaving him no room for maneuver. By the time he finally learned the truth, it was too late.

"Wayne, did you and Tasia have a falling out when you were at the Vatican?" Olive suddenly asked. "It seems like it's been a long time since I've heard you mention Tasia. Given how good your relationship was before, it shouldn't be like this."

Does having a lie exposed count as a conflict?

"No. It's just that she knows me a little better than I thought, while I don't know her as well as I thought I did."

That's why they think their clumsy scams are always successful.

“Whether it’s the Papacy or the Kingdom, they are just organizational forms. In that case, no matter which path we choose, as long as we go in the same direction, we will always meet again at some crossroads.” He tried to change the subject again: “Ritzburn has a small population. Even if we just set up a textile factory, it would be enough to cover more than half of the population. There are also two larger towns nearby that can support each other. And since it is located at the border between the Southwest Territory and the Kingdom’s mainland, it can serve as a model town to lead the development of the Southwest region.”

Chapter 694 The Bloodthirsty Lion, Floyd

Even the most skilled con artist cannot fool someone who is already on high alert. Therefore, believing is always the first step to being scammed.

The infamous "Bloodthirsty Lion" Viscount Frode, renowned throughout the southwest, was not actually of noble birth. His ancestor was merely a stable boy when a certain king of the Kingdom of Lornes was still a prince. Because that prince unexpectedly inherited the throne that his brother had given him, the stable boy's fate took a completely different turn.

From groom to knight, from knight to lord, through countless means and painstaking efforts, he finally acquired a real fiefdom on the former territory of the Principality of Milstein.

But he was not satisfied with that.

When Floyd received news that the Duke of Winchester's adopted son would be leading an army to quell the rebellion as the king's envoy, his first thought was to seize the opportunity.

Unlike himself, a fellow who had struggled and toiled his way up from the mud, in his mind, the noble youths of the capital were always not only greedy but also foolishly naive. To solve the most immediate problem, they could ignore all the less pleasant consequences, seeking only the fastest results.

Of course, if they really cause trouble, these privileged children who come here to gain experience can simply pack up and leave, and the mess will always be cleaned up by another unlucky person.

Therefore, they often possess an unbridled sharpness, needing only a sufficiently sharp knife.

Freud wasn't particularly concerned with whether Wayne Winchester's visit was to embellish his resume or to gradually seize control of the kingdom's military and political power. All he knew was that if he clung to the giant's coattails, the giant only needed to lift a foot, and he could use that leverage to rise to prominence.

Of course, the other person might simply walk past him without realizing it, crushing him like an ant.

Therefore, he kept a close eye on Wayne Wincher's movements, ready to appear before him in the best possible condition at any time.

However, the terrible news brought by Hank the butcher from Ridsburn shattered his previous optimistic expectations.

Viscount Frode sized up the messenger who claimed to be delivering a message for Wayne Wincher. The man was dressed in roughly cut cloth, with several dark spots formed by indelible oil stains.

He had no recollection of the butcher's face, even though the man claimed to be a regular visitor to the castle in Sheri to provide him with meat.

“Lord Freud, he and that shepherd governor from Ritsburn did come here a few times,” the captain of the guard confirmed.

"Oh." Freud nodded to indicate that he understood.

“So, Pope is dead?” he asked.

His tone was as calm as if he were discussing the food on the dinner table that evening.

Under the watchful gaze of this infamous nobleman, whose fearsome reputation could silence even the most stoic child, Hank felt a slight tension. He had a feeling that the other man would open his menacing fangs and gaping maw at any moment and tear him to pieces, swallowing him whole. But the thought that he was delivering a message for the king's envoy, Lord Wayne, gave him a surge of courage.

No matter how bloodthirsty a lion may be, it is nothing more than a dog on a chain in front of that person... I am delivering a message for an extraordinary person!

Hank straightened his back. "It wasn't there when I left Ridsburn, but I think it will be soon. His Excellency Wayne is very dissatisfied with him."

boom--

Floyd slammed his hand on the table, startling Hank, who was trying to appear intimidating, into shrinking back, a hint of fear flashing in his eyes.

Ignoring his utterly submissive behavior, Freud righteously and sternly cursed, "That bastard! I trusted him so much, yet he dares to bully others in Ritzben because of my appointment! Lord Wayne's handling of him was absolutely correct. It's just a pity I wasn't there at the time; otherwise, I would have eliminated him immediately without Lord Wayne's intervention!"

Without the slightest hesitation, he took the initiative to convict Pope, seemingly even more furious than Wayne, even though Hank hadn't yet had a chance to explain why Wayne was dissatisfied.

Hank was slightly taken aback.

"Is His Excellency Wayne in Ridsburn right now?" Floyd pressed, staring intently at Hank. "I will go to see him immediately and apologize for my oversight."

"Uh, yes... he's in Ridgeburn..." Under the intense pressure of the other person's piercing gaze, Hank stammered.

But as reason returned, the last vestige of clarity in his mind allowed Hank to barely regain the composure befitting a messenger for an important figure. So he reorganized his words, deliberately softening his tone: "However—there's no need to go see him to apologize. Lord Wayne said that the most important thing on this trip is to thoroughly wipe out the rebels in the southwest, and everything else must temporarily give way to this."

"If Viscount Frode is interested in making a contribution, he might as well hand over the clues you have gathered over the years to Lord Wayne, and he will consider your merits accordingly," he hinted meaningfully.

Having said what needed to be conveyed, Hank turned back home without hesitation, fearing that any delay might lead to unforeseen changes.

However, Freud never intended to keep him.

After personally seeing Hank off, Floyd sat back down in his chair, deep in thought. "Do you find this believable?"

He was asking his trusted confidant, the chief of the guard, Nar.

“We don’t seem to have many options,” Sir Nar said tactfully, standing beside him.

“Yes, I was thinking that if he needed a knife to break the deadlock, I would make the knife. You have to be willing to bet to win more chips.” Floyd hesitated, “But…”

He wasn't stupid; he knew how others perceived him behind his back. It's just that he had always ignored those weak, helpless commoners, treating infamy as an honor, since they were utterly powerless against him, and even their curses seemed like praise of his strength.

But what if that young master from the capital is out of touch with reality, and is swayed by the voices of praise or lamentation nearby, and in a moment of impulsiveness leads those commoners to turn their attacks on the nobles...? Who can guarantee that they won't be the next Pope, easily dealt with to boost their reputation?

“The moment Wayne Wincher stepped into the Southwest, he used my men to establish his authority. Although Pope is a nobody, he is like a mirror, constantly reminding me of the consequences of disobeying. I may be the sharpest knife in his hand, but that knife cannot cut off my own head.”

Captain Nar explained, “Duke Wincher wields great power in the capital, but his influence in the southwest is weak. If he wants to succeed, he will need the support of us local nobles. Envoy Wayne is new here, and it is only right that he establishes his authority. Since they have come to our territory, perhaps we should take the initiative to welcome him into the castle and show our goodwill.”

“No rush,” Floyd murmured. “Let’s first let Buffalo know his whereabouts and see what their attitude is.”

Chapter 695 His Excellency the Special Envoy

After receiving Wien's orders, the rear army reorganized and changed its orderly march towards the provincial capital, Bufnia, to a forced march towards Sheri, shortening the originally planned seven-day journey to five days.

After the defensive magic array fortifications on Wayne's side were completed, the adjutant responsible for coordinating with Wayne's operation also arrived in Ritsburn.

"Your Excellency, our troops have arrived outside Sheri City and are ready for your inspection at any time."

Adjutant Kent reported to Wayne in a very serious and formal manner.

He was not a member of the Duke of Winchester's faction, but he was a close family friend of the Marquis of O'Neill since childhood.

After a series of misfortunes befell their children, the Marquis O'Neill family gradually withdrew from public life, and their influence within aristocratic circles waned. Although people verbally denied the existence of the so-called "curse of national ruin," they were honestly avoiding any association with the O'Neill family's misfortunes, choosing to sever ties and avoid contact with them. Only Kent continued to silently support O'Neill from behind the scenes.

He witnessed firsthand how O'Neal went from a spirited and promising young man to a despondent figure, and he felt genuinely sorry for him.

Therefore, he naturally took notice of Wayne Winche, the young man who was recently highly praised by O'Neal.

Kent carefully sized up the other person.

Judging from his appearance alone, this man is almost too handsome. Although he has not yet graduated from Seiki Academy, his tall and upright figure and the demeanor he exudes do not make him seem too young. His friendly tone, on the contrary, inspires a strange sense of trust in people.

“You must be tired from your journey, General Kent. I’ve heard from Marquis O’Neill that you are very capable, and I’m glad to be able to work with you to complete the mission entrusted to me by His Majesty the King.” Wayne smiled.

In fact, according to his original intention, he would feel more at ease handing over the position of adjutant to one of the Wenche family's own confidants, as there were capable people among the family's vassals who were qualified to take on this role.

However, Duke Elliott told him that while this would put his mind at ease, it would put His Majesty's mind at ease.

After much deliberation and selection, Wayne finally noticed Kent and, through Minister Franz's connections, recommended him to His Majesty the King. The King, unsurprisingly, appointed Kent, who had no apparent connection with the Winchester family, as Wayne's deputy. Ostensibly, it was to assist him, but in reality, it was mostly a means of restraint.

Wayne didn't care much about such calculations. As long as he could follow orders and get things done, he didn't care whether the cat was black or white, as long as it caught mice. And as it turned out, Kent did cooperate with his orders very well. He didn't look down on him because of his low seniority and young age, but Kent was serious and stern. Overall, they got along quite well.