Lambert's cloak lifted in the wind. Ash coated his visor as he said in a low voice, "Finish this. Keep a few alive and dispose of the rest."
The Red Tide Knight Order began its bloody suppression.
As dawn approached, a sliver of white appeared on the horizon, and the knight orders and logistics teams stationed outside the city arrived one after another.
The crowd stopped amid the shattered walls. The air smelled of burning and grease, so pungent it turned their stomachs.
They stared at the scene before them: the blackened courtyard, collapsed statues, metal twisted by flames, and snow soaked in blood. The entire manor looked as though hellfire had swept through it.
A young soldier swallowed, his voice trembling. "What... what happened here?"
The Red Tide Knights were lifting mangled corpses with their spears in coordinated movements. Occasionally, a dying barbarian let out a howl, only to be swiftly finished off.
In the end, Red Tide kept only a few prisoners who appeared to hold important positions.
They were the barbarian chief Uru, bound in iron chains, and his two lieutenants. All the other barbarians were executed.
Once the casualties had been tallied, Lambert stepped forward and knelt before Louis:
"My lord, the count is complete. The nobles suffered heavy casualties. Nearly half of the more than thirty nobles attending the conference were affected, and seventy-five knights died.
"Three nobles died inside the manor, and two were shot dead by arrows while fleeing. The highest-ranking among them was Viscount Bolton. As for Sixth Prince Asta... his death has also been confirmed."
Louis paused slightly at the news, his brows drawing together. He was clearly somewhat surprised.
His original plan had been to use the attack to place the prince under house arrest and force him into complete