Chapter 201: Counter Measures - Part 7
His lips began to curve into a violent expression, as the lid off his anger was removed, and his mind determined that it was safe for him to vent his frustrations. His hand went to his sword.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The soldier spluttered, his shout loud enough to draw a crowd. 'Good', he thought. 'Let them see what I do to peasants that don't know their place.'
His sword came clean of the scabbard, and he levelled it towards the peasant's throat – or at least he tried to. There was a sudden flash of pain in his hand, and then a moment later, his sword on the floor.
Startled, he reached to grab it, but the boy's foot found its way onto the steel first.
"Boy! Remove your dirty feet from my sword!" The soldier cried out in anguish, thoroughly disoriented at this point. All he felt was anger.
"Oh, my apologies," Beam said, as though only just noticing. He removed his foot. The soldier reached to grasp the sword, but just before he could get his hands on it, Beam's other foot came in.
There was something of a small crowd gathering now. The butcher was sweating to an extreme degree behind the soldier, as he witnessed things escalating at an unbelievable rate.
Even Judas and Nila – who were meant to be part of this plan – seemed shocked by his actions, by his blatant disrespect of an authority that was above him.
"Ah, wait," Beam said, as his foot returned. "I have to confirm, this sword is for the protection of the village peace, is it not? If you're stirring up conflict within Solgrim garrison whilst we are so close to war, you'd be violating Captain Lombard's clear orders. Even if you are my social superior, I cannot disobey the orders of nobility. Do forgive me."
The soldier was stunned. He had been in more than his fair share of peasant villages, and he'd made sure to wield his authority to the maximum in each of them. But never before had anyone stood up to him.
What was this? He froze, mid-crouch, his arm extending from his sword. He felt like a deer frozen in place by the gaze of a hungry predator. He could feel a heaviness in the air that made it difficult to breathe.
'This man is dangerous' his body seemed to scream. But no matter how dangerous a peasant usually was, it did not matter, for they could not defy the natural social order of this world. To do so would mean spitting in the face of their superiors, and gathering a legion of support against them.
Yet, this boy had framed it in such a way that he – of the higher class as he was – would be going against nobility and disobeying orders merely by defending himself. It was such a farce, and an obvious what at that. Yet against such a threat, both physical and social, the soldier froze up.
He was not used to confrontation, especially not of this sort, and especially not from someone who was so far beneath him socially.
He spluttered, attempting to form a counterargument. But now the gazes of the crowd that he'd been so pleased about before worked against him, pinning him in place. He could see the blatant hostility in their eyes. For the first time, that hostility hurt him. Without the shield of his superior class to hide behind, their aggression dug in deep, leaving him feeling naked despite his armour.
And now, seemingly out of nowhere, there was a giant standing in front of him, apparently an ally of the boy. He towered over the soldier, the physical difference between the two of them immense. There was an aggressive look in his eyes as well, as he merely folded his arms and stared down at him.
The soldier glanced between his two aggressors, then back down to his sword that was pinned to the floor, it didn't seem like he'd be reaching it any time soon.
But then, after being beaten down so thoroughly, it was as though an angel had descended. An adorable girl, of small stature, with bright red hair, and a kind face. She knelt down so that he did not have to and retrieved his sword.
"Your sword, mister," she said, with a smile and a bow of her head.
Relieved, the soldier reached out to grab it.
But it turned out, she was the devil as well. Just before his fingers could wrap around its hilt, she drew it back slightly.
"Of course, that's with the understanding that it's wrong to bother the butcher, right? I'm sure you were only joking. Of course, a noble soldier such as yourself would not abuse their power merely for fun, not whilst the Captain made it clear he didn't want to hear about any discord. Unless you have reasons to undermine our defence?" Nila said, flashing a devilish smile.
Beam fought to hide his own smile. It was sweetly done, but it was essentially the same tactic that Beam had used – likening the man's actions to treachery, as they made him explain the reason behind the unnecessary friction he was creating.
"…Only joking?" The soldier said weakly, glancing behind him for support from the butcher. But the butcher merely turned away. Out of a soldier and that fearsome trio behind him, he found that pissing off the soldier would likely be the lesser of the two evils.
Defeated, the soldier could only acknowledge them. With his heart toyed with and his soldiers slumped, he agreed with her, and took by his sword. "…Indeed, I was merely joking," he murmured, sheathing his blade, and hurriedly moving to leave, the gazes of the crowd feeling like spears on his back.
There was a temptation in his heart to throw a tantrum, to cause an even bigger scene, but just as he enjoyed using his social superiority against others – he feared it being used against him. Bringing up nobility, holding that over his head, suggesting that he was going against them.
It was a fatal move, especially when the nobility treat the serving class with the same dismissiveness that they did for peasants.
There were more than a few instances of soldiers being cut down merely as an example.
He meekly left with his shoulders bunched up tight, as he kept his eyes on the ground, and fled at a speed that nearly approached a jog.