Sudden Outburst

The weather was still quite pleasant. Though the air remained bitingly cold, the sunlight overhead brought people a trace of warmth.

Reiner and his party soon arrived at the outskirts of Red Fruit Village. Low fences encircled the entire village, likely meant to keep wild beasts from coming in and causing damage.

But such fences were practically nonexistent before the regular army led by Reiner, as fragile as a sheet of paper.

The residents who had fled earlier while gathering food in the wilderness had long since brought word of Reiner's arrival back to the village. Though panic had already spread through the village, they had not all fled outright.

It was winter now. The wilderness was not brimming with life as it was in spring and summer. If they left this place, all that awaited them was a cold, barren snowfield. Serfs who lost their homes simply could not survive.

Thus, under the Village Elder's persuasion, the villagers remained in the village and waited for Reiner and the others to arrive. Perhaps they would not slaughter them. Maybe they would leave as long as the villagers handed over their food and valuables.

And so, filled with unease, the villagers gathered in the center of the village. It was a large open area where anything that happened in the village was usually held.

The soldiers opened the wooden fence, and Reiner entered the village alongside the knights atop tall warhorses.

This Red Fruit Village was much like the villages in Reiner's territory. It looked desperately poor, its homes all low wooden structures. At that height, Reiner would likely have difficulty even standing upright inside.

The houses were also riddled with damage. Reiner had finally witnessed what people meant by rain outside and a downpour indoors. The damaged spots had merely been stuffed with dry grass, with no proper repairs made at all.

Even such houses were few in number within the village—only around thirty or forty. Though this was an era where productivity was primarily concentrated in villages, a single village would not have many people.

Hunger, war, and crushing taxes left them with no strength to reproduce and thrive. It was already fortunate enough for a village to continue existing.

Reiner had grown accustomed to seeing such ruined villages. Most villages in his territory were in the same wretched state. Those in his direct domain were somewhat better off, while the villages granted to knights as fiefs fared even worse.

Passing through the village's rugged, irregular paths, Reiner led his army to the village center, where the villagers were waiting for his arrival.

When Reiner appeared before them with his well-equipped, powerfully built soldiers, as well as knights clad in imposing armor and mounted majestically on tall warhorses, the fear and evasiveness in the villagers' eyes were plain to see.

Especially the knight lord at the front, dressed in the finest clothes. Wrapped in armor, he seemed beyond their ability to even look at directly. To lowly serfs like them, he belonged to a completely different world.

Reiner swept his gaze across the villagers gathered in the village center. There appeared to be nearly two hundred of them. The entire population of Red Fruit Village should be here.

Besides the ragged, sallow, emaciated serfs, Reiner also saw several people who looked sturdier and were dressed far more respectably. They were likely free peasants or landowners in the village. Some relatives of the Gwen Family might even be among them.

As a noble family that had lived and multiplied in the North for over a century, the Gwen Family had quite a few relatives. At the very least, each village had one of their branch families living in it. Reiner's goal was to eliminate these people; otherwise, it would be difficult to rule all of Goer Castle.

After all, Reiner's purpose in bringing Goer Castle under his command was simple: its population, land, and productive capacity. The fortress standing in this region was entirely optional to him. It was not a populous, commercially prosperous city or town. A military stronghold was not all that important.

The upgraded Morland Castle was enough for him. There was no need for two castles less than thirty kilometers apart. What Reiner truly valued was the population, land, and productive capacity.

Most of this era's productive capacity was concentrated in villages. Towns and cities were, after all, still few in number. The economic base determined the superstructure. Before food and other essential resources reached a certain level of output, there was simply no way to support workers who had left agricultural production to begin handicrafts.

A man who was much better dressed and more robust, clearly a Village Elder, stepped forward and respectfully bowed to Reiner.

Such people were known as wealthy peasants, small landowners, or by another title: country gentry.

They usually served as a village's Village Elder, handling its various affairs. Lords recognized their status and relied on them to govern the villages.

"Greetings, honored sir. I am Ram Gwen, Village Elder of Red Fruit Village, of the great Gwen Family. Is there anything we can help you with? As a blood relative of Baron Lobean Gwen, ruler of Goer Castle, I believe I may be of some assistance to you!"

This Village Elder Ram mixed softness with firmness, speaking to Reiner with both threats and humility. Though his manner was very deferential, the meaning hidden between his words was nothing less than a threat.

He repeatedly emphasized that he was a member of the Gwen Family, hoping to use the family's reputation to intimidate Reiner and make this unknown nobleman with elite subordinates wary.

"A member of the Gwen Family?" Reiner did not remove his helmet, his voice muffled as he asked.

Hearing Reiner's words, Village Elder Ram thought he had successfully intimidated him. His tone was no longer as humble as before. "Yes, my lord. I am indeed a member of the Gwen Family. May I ask what brings you here?"

Reiner looked at him as though he were a clown. Rather than answer immediately, he merely glanced at him, then drew the longsword at his waist and slashed across the man's throat.

Ram had no time to react before he collapsed to the ground. Reiner's strike had severed half his neck, leaving only a strip of flesh holding his head to his body.

The severed artery spurted blood like a fountain, driven by the beating of his heart. As it fell upon the ground, it formed a beautiful scene: plum blossoms in the snow.

Reiner's sudden outburst threw the villagers into immediate panic. They began shoving their companions aside, wanting nothing more than to get away and flee for their lives.

Watching these villagers scatter like startled birds, Reiner removed his helmet and shouted, "I will not harm you! But anyone who runs dies!"

The knights at Reiner's side and the soldiers behind him shouted along with him. More than a dozen voices rang out in unison, drowning out the villagers' terrified cries and gradually calming them down.