“Marcus Sirdi?”

  The name struck a familiar note to many of the older generation in the crowd, but they couldn't put their hands on it immediately.

  Most of the people present in the crowd were merchants. Some of them have lived in Agard all their lives.

  “Sirdi? Fallen noble Sirdi?” An older gentleman muttered and his pupils slowly contracted with shock.

  “Marcus Sirdi! The Marcus Sirdi?” He blurted out.

  At least someone recalls…

  Turning his gaze to look at the gentleman, Marcus nodded his way.

  “I greet the Lord Viscount,” the gentleman bowed.

  Gasps ran through the crowd.

  Just as the older gentleman was doing this, his words slowly hit the rest of the crowd and they too offered their greetings.

  Even the guards that were about to execute the commoner had to offer their greetings to Marcus, loosening their grip on the man.

  If one looked closer, the corners of Marcus’s lips were trembling as he fought to hide his smile.

  He was pleased that his title was still respected, at least, enough to warrant a greeting.

  All except one person greeted Marcus.

  “A Viscount? Since when did Agard have a working, or living Viscount governing?”

  The young noble sneered, refusing to believe that Marcus was who he claimed to be.

  “Deril Savani, Son of Baron Savani. If you do not have eyes to recognize authority, then at least your ears should have heard of it before. Cease this charade before I order your death too.”

  The young man stood his ground.

  His family has had a good share of Agard under their control for over a decade.

  Those he should be wary of and scared of he had been taught their names.

  As for Marcus, he was never mentioned.

  The words of this noble scion shocked the crowd.

  A Baron’s son wants to execute a Viscount?

  Was this speaking out of turn or courting a court-martial?

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  “Go ahead if you,” Marcus smiled as his eyelids squinted slightly, understanding the reasoning of this young noble.

  It wasn't that Deril didn't know the difference in hierarchy, rather, he didn't see Marcus as a force to be feared despite his title.

  “Or rather, ask these guards of yours if they dare to carry out such an order.”

  Deril looked towards the men who had already let the man they were suppressing go.

  The apprehensive looks on their faces said it all.

  Deril wasn't the one they pledged their loyalty to, nor did he hold enough power to order such a weighty command to them.

  If they dared to attack the Viscount, not only would they have to face the knights who had already secretly surrounded them, but also, they would have to face the wrath of the Royal Council.

  Fallen noble or not, hierarchy was hierarchy.

  The games that these nobles play have their own rules. Breaking one of them…

  Even Baron Savani would disown his son to escape the repercussions.

  If they fail to recognize this, then it would be over for them.

  Seeing their expressions, Deril realized that he might have kicked a boulder unknowingly.

  The arrogant air around him lessened a bit.

  “Baron Savani’s son, eh? I wonder, how has your father been all these years?” Marcus spoke as he stepped forward, closing the distance between him and Deril.

  Instinctively, Deril took a step back. It was only after Marcus stopped that he realized that he had done this.

  “Fa…father is faring well.” Deril hesitated as his expression morphed between a frown and a sneer.

  Clearly, he didn't know how to react.

  From everything he had observed, this young noble, who didn't seem to be much older than him, held a lot more authority than he realized.

  Now that he had insulted him, he might have already crossed a line.

  “That's good.” Marcus nodded and turned his head to face the commoner who was slowly escaping by crawling on the ground.

  [Lamile Jorn. Skilled miner.]

  The man’s information appeared before Marcus, and he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

  “Could this man be connected to the iron ore?” Marcus thought to himself.

  His gaze didn't go unnoticed by the crowd.

  Many of them were watching his actions.

  This was a noble that they had heard of, but not many had gotten a chance to see.

  According to the rumors that had passed around for years, he had gone mad and fallen ill.

  It even stated that he was on his deathbed, hence his absence from the State’s politics and social life.

  Their curiosity didn't only stem from his title, but also from his surname.

  …

  “Everyone, let me introduce myself once again!”

  Marcus turned around and looked into the eyes of those gathered around.

  “I am Marcus Sirdi, the Governor of Agard. A Viscount of the Ulha Kingdom, and the sole person given the right by the Royal Council to hold a public execution in Agard!”

  His words rang in everyone’s ears, reminding them of the rules of the Kingdom.

  Agard is corrupt because few with the capability were willing to uphold justice. It wasn't that they had forgotten the laws, but they couldn't enforce them.

  Deril flinched a bit upon hearing Marcus's tone. A feeling of impending trouble washed over him.

  “Mar–Lord Viscount, how about we talk about-”

  “According to the laws of the kingdom, such an act would warrant a sentence of 2 years in prison for first-time offenders and a fine!”

  With a turn, Marcus faced Deril again.

  This time, Deril had no airs of arrogance around him.

  No one had legally tried to find fault with him since he began getting embroiled in the social life of Agard. This was his first time, and he didn't know how to react.

  “Guards! Seize him!” Marcus had just spoken when two knights rushed forward.

  One moved to apprehend Deril with swift movement, while the other appeared as a warning to the guards following Deril.

  “Unhand me!” Deril struggled but to no avail. “You cannot arrest me! On what grounds! My father will not stand for this!”

  “On what grounds!? On the grounds that you failed to recognize your superior and even insulted my honor! On the grounds that had I not been present, a citizen of mine would have been executed with a proper court trial!”

  Marcus listed. With each word, the tone of his voice rose. Though there was still a point he hadn't mentioned. He wanted to save that one for later.

  “I have been afflicted with illness for years and have been unable to oversee Agard. Now I have recovered only to see that my territory has derailed into a cesspit of poverty! And yet, there's a fool who dares to question my authority at this point! Guards, confiscate these carts too!”

  Marcus seemed to unleash a bit of his resentment and anger as he spoke.

  The fury in his eyes was bright, to the point where even the guards who were with Deril didn't dare to make a move.

  They didn't dare make a move when Deril was apprehended, but when it came to the carts, a few of them couldn't help but hesitate.

  Marcus sneered internally.

  Now, many people realized that this wasn't just an introduction, it was a show of power. Marcus didn't necessarily look for trouble, he was acting within his rights.

  It was Deril who crossed the line.

  No one in the crowd dared to openly oppose Marcus at the moment.

  The young Viscount is back and is eager to put his foot on the throats of the nobles.

  He’s emotional now, and would lash out on any who dares to step forward now.

  This is how some within the crowd translated his actions.

  As his guards moved to take reins of the bulls pulling these carts, Marcus called Lamile over.

  “You too, come with me.”

  Scared and uncertain of his destiny, the man nervously followed behind.

  “Let me go! Please, I'll pay you!” Some people in the crowd shook their heads.

  Doesn't this young Lord know that such words could be used against him?

  As Marcus reached the door of his carriage, he turned and said. “If Baron Savani wishes to contend, then he can file for a court trial.”

  With that being said, he got into his carriage and left.