In a town halfway up a mountain, Habites crumpled the letter in his hand into a ball and casually tossed it aside.
"A bunch of spineless trash! Being associated with them is an insult to us. What are Austrians worth? Our family has ruled this place since the thirteenth century. Whoever comes has to pay the toll obediently! Not even Prince Eugene or the Eastern Roman Emperor would be exempt!"
"But, Brother, there really are a lot of Austrians, and I heard they've already wiped out an entire town on the way here."
The speaker had a square face, a broad mouth, and a towering build—one look was enough to tell he was a formidable man. Yet his voice now carried hesitation and fear.
"Hmph. Don't lump us together with that useless rabble! Our family has never been conquered! Would that so-called king and his lapdogs dare come collect taxes from us?"
"Of course they wouldn't! Aren't we doing just fine as we are? Why provoke the Austrians?"
The second brother asked in confusion.
A fist slammed into his younger brother's head.
"Idiot! Do you want to spend your whole life rotting in these mountains? Worthless thing!"
"What's wrong with the mountains? Here, we can have wind when we want wind and rain when we want rain! Whatever we want to eat, someone cooks it and brings it to us. If we set our eyes on some family's daughter, she has to strip naked and wait for us at night. No one dares say no to us. Didn't we kill those old bastards so we could live free and easy?"
Habites viciously slapped his brother across the face.
"You bastard! Let me tell you—Father and Grandfather were killed by the Ottomans! Do you understand?"
"Yes! Yes! Those damned Ottomans!"
Habites's