Everyone Wants Me Dead: The Villain Lord's Survival Diary

Chapter 56 – The Fall of the Buton Family

Sylvie didn't bother with the three Earth Knights lying dead on the ground in a gruesome state; Bane Bloodhoof didn't need his help either.

He first went to Claremont's side to check on his condition.

The old knight's face was haggard, and he had fallen into a coma.

He was already exhausted, his Battle Aura depleted, and he had suffered significant injuries in the fight. It was remarkable that he had held on until Sylvie arrived.

"Fortunately, he's not in any life-threatening danger. A bottle of Water of Life, and he'll be as good as new..."

Sylvie smiled slightly and breathed a sigh of relief.

However, situations like this would become more frequent in the future, with more and more injuries, and it wouldn't be feasible to rely on the Water of Life every time.

Sylvie secretly made up his mind.

"This time, we need to hurry and awaken Loli."

He pondered in his heart. With enemies surrounding them, the lack of healing power was a critical issue.

The best healing power, of course, came from priests, who were invaluable resources typically found only in the cathedrals built by the Holy See in the cities of earldoms.

But Sylvie did not regret having killed so many priests of the Badal Holy See.

Though priests of different deities all knew basic Healing Spells, their beliefs varied greatly.

The priests of the Badal Holy See worshiped the God of War and Flame, which determined their destructive nature.

This was why they viewed commoners as insignificant ants and committed the demonic act of using the blood of demi-human maidens to create Templar Knights.

Moreover, priests could never be controlled by Sylvie. Even priests of benevolent gods ultimately served their deities, not any particular lord.

Sylvie understood this well. He was different from other lords and could not allow any power beyond his control, as a betrayal at a critical moment could spell his doom.

So, regarding the choice of healing power, aside from the completely trustworthy little maid, Sylvie had some new ideas he wanted to try.

On the other side of the battlefield, the Buton Territory's army, already in a precarious position, fell into a disadvantage with the addition of the Minotaur Warriors.

"Bloodhoof Clan, join the battle!"

"Take this!"

Carl Bloodhoof, dragging a magic cannon, grinned widely, his bovine mouth stretching into an exaggerated smile. With a "boom," a purple-red beam shot into the Buton Family's formation, blasting a group of soldiers into the sky.

This startled the soldiers and knights of the Buton Territory.

"These... these monsters have magic cannons!"

"That looks like the ones from our city walls. Report to the Viscount immediately!"

...

In fact, there was no need for the soldiers to report; the Viscount of Buton had long noticed the purple-red beams occasionally shooting across the battlefield.

He watched the Minotaur Warrior wielding the magic cannon with uncertainty, his sense of foreboding reaching its peak.

"Impossible, it can't be, they can't have breached Buton City. Yes, that's their own magic cannon..."

"Viscount, something terrible has happened!"

At this moment, a soldier stumbled and crawled to the Viscount of Buton.

He was wearing the equipment of a city guard, panting heavily, clearly having rushed over from Buton City.

"What happened? Tell me, Buton City is fine, right?"

The Viscount looked eagerly at the soldier in front of him, clinging to a sliver of hope, wishing to hear some good news from the soldier's mouth.

But the city guard, with a mournful face, shattered his last hope.

"No! Viscount, Buton City... Buton City has fallen, and the entire Homan Keep has been ransacked! Viscount... Viscount?"

"The Viscount has fainted, someone help!"

"Quick, get the Viscount out of here!"

"Retreat, retreat!"

From the first call for retreat, the defeat of the Buton Family was sealed.

The first to drop their weapons were the farmers, who were poor souls forced onto the battlefield by the Buton Family's knights. Upon hearing the order to retreat, they immediately turned to flee.

The mass exodus of farmers caused the knights and regular army still engaged in battle to waver, with one after another beginning to flee, ultimately triggering a chain reaction.

By the time the last few Buton Family knights fighting to the end fell under the Minotaurs' giant axes, the war was already decided.

The Buton Family's militia scattered like headless flies across the vast desert, pursued by the bloodthirsty Winterfell City forces.

In their eyes, these people were both enemies and a path to glory.

It wasn't until Sylvie arrived to take charge of the battlefield and ordered a halt to the pursuit that the militia obediently returned to their ranks.

After a brief cheer, the soldiers of Winterfell City began to clean the battlefield. The Buton Family's soldiers and militia wore better equipment than they did, and now stripping it off became their spoils of war.

With a bit of cleaning, they could collect over two hundred sets of iron armor. Even the slightly damaged ones could be taken back to Winterfell City for the blacksmiths to repair.

As night fell, the soldiers finished tidying up the battlefield and set up camp.

Claremont had already awakened from his coma and gathered around the campfire with Sylvie and the other knights for a meeting.

Sylvie chose not to return to Winterfell City immediately. The soldiers needed rest, and marching through the night was unsafe.

Aside from the recent victory cheers, the mood around the campfire was not high, with many people falling into silence and sadness.

The war had undoubtedly been brutal, with many militia members dying, but they had sacrificed their lives to preserve most of Winterfell City's knight forces.

After making some simple arrangements, Sylvie offered a few words of comfort. Though the effect was limited, it somewhat lifted everyone's spirits.

What surprised him even more was that the knights spontaneously brought up the issue of providing compensation funds for the fallen militia.

After understanding the situation, he couldn't help but feel a bit emotional. He hadn't expected that a small gesture of his would earn such support from the militia, and it also had a profound impact on the knights under his command.

It was a good thing, though he felt sorry for the fallen militia.

Sylvie didn't say much more, instructing everyone to rest early and return to Winterfell City the next morning.

The Buton Family was finished, their assets completely plundered by Sylvie. There was no need to attack and occupy Buton City, as that would escalate the situation from a border conflict to a full-scale war.

At present, Sylvie was not ready to bear the burden of a war of that scale.

As the knights dispersed, only Claremont, Bane, and a few trusted individuals remained by the campfire.

"Master Sylvie, have you broken through to Sky Knight?"

Claremont, still somewhat weak, was now able to walk without much issue, his gradually recovering Battle Aura nourishing his body.

Sylvie nodded with a smile and said, "I broke through a couple of days ago, just hadn't had the chance to mention it."

"Good... that's wonderful..."

Claremont's lips trembled with excitement, unable to hide his joy, more thrilled than if he had broken through to Sky Knight himself.

"Master Sylvie, you're still so young. You could become a Champion Knight in the future, maybe even a Legend."

"Perhaps one day, the flag of Eaglehold will fly across the entire Kain Continent."

Sylvie shrugged, half-jokingly.

"My Lord, the Bloodhoof Clan is willing to clear the path for you, to serve you with all our might!"

...

On the desert, the cold night wind rustled the tents, and throughout the camp, only the patrolling soldiers remained awake, while the rest had drifted into slumber.