CHAPTER 313: CHAPTER 312 - THE SQUIRREL SHOW.

The neutral faction had two lead nobles, both of whom were marquises.

The rest of the nobles were merely counts or barons serving the marquies, or those who were scared of war.

Ten of the neutral faction’s nobles—the ones holding all of the power—had to be kidnapped by the night and returned to their places as if they were never abducted.

However, with Jake guarding Velric along with Vairan, they didn’t have enough members to kidnap ten nobles.

There were nine of them, including Selena, Siris, Clara, Lia, Jessy, Graye, Rufus, Raven, and Alex, who was accompanied by Nibbles.

So, Raven had decided to kidnap both of the marquises since their guards were stronger, but someone had stopped him.

It was Nibbles.

The squirrel had asked to give it a chance to prove that it could do it as well.

After a lot of thinking, Raven had decided to leave the weaker marquies to the squirrel, and although the squirrel had never disappointed him, he hoped that it would be the same again.

Marquise Benedict—a noble who had risen to this position not with power but because of his smooth tongue—was Nibbles’s target.

..............................

The Marquise’s estate loomed in polished marble and iron gates, the kind of place where guards stood taller than statues and servants whispered like mice in silk corridors.

Tonight, however, the estate was host to something no one expected.

A play.

No banners announced it, and no invitations were given—but when the first squeaks echoed from the courtyard, torches lit, and a small stage (built entirely from purloined pantry crates) emerged, curiosity gripped the house.

The guards gathered. The servants gathered. Even the cook leaned out of the kitchen window, his spoon still dripping stew.

None of them questioned why a troupe of squirrels in mismatched capes and feathered hats had suddenly begun acting in the courtyard.

Because it was compelling.

It was something Nibbles had planned, as he had brought along his group.

After all, how could a squirrel plot a kidnapping on his own?

..............................

On stage:

A squirrel in a ragged cloak staggered forward, clutching a chestnut painted red like a bleeding heart.

"Squeeeak..."

At once, a second squirrel in a glittering paper crown appeared, slapping his paws against his chest in regal fury.

A squirrel standing in the corner held up a wooden board scrawled with charcoal letters:

["You betrayed me, brother!"]

The audience gasped as they understood that it was the subtitle squirrel. It was helping them understand what was going on.

The next second, the first squirrel collapsed dramatically, rolling three times in the dirt before throwing his tiny paw to the sky.

["I only wanted peace!"]

Another squirrel darted in, wearing a veil fashioned from stolen lace, leaping between them with squeaks so shrill they quivered in heartbreak.

["Please, stop fighting! The acorn is not worth blood!"]

The guards—grown men with swords at their belts—wiped their eyes.

Meanwhile, Nibbles and his elite squad had already infiltrated through the kitchen window.

Three squirrels distracted the cook by stealing bread, another used its teeth to gnaw open the lock on the wine cellar, and Nibbles himself—helmet polished and sign strapped to his back—marched straight to the Marquise’s chambers.

The noble was at his desk, writing letters with the smug air of a man who believed himself untouchable.

He never saw the squirrel squad coming.

Nibbles leapt onto the desk and slapped down a sign:

"Surprise Inspection."

Before the Marquise could blink, two squirrels hurled a blanket over his head, another smacked him with a candlestick, and Nibbles delivered the coup de grâce: a walnut cracked against the noble’s skull.

The man slumped, unconscious, and was dragged swiftly into a laundry basket padded with stolen cushions.

Operation: Kidnap the Marquis—success.

..............................

Back in the Courtyard:

The play had reached its climax.

The squirrel in the crown raised his acorn-sword, squeaking a battle cry. The subtitle squirrel lifted its board high.

["If I cannot have peace, then I shall have revenge!"]

The cloaked squirrel clutched his heart, staggering back.

["Then strike me down, brother... but know that in doing so, you kill the last hope of our people!"]

Every guard leaned forward, breath held. One of them actually sobbed aloud.

Then—crack!

The crown-bearer squirrel dramatically smote the other with his acorn-sword.

The cloaked squirrel twitched, squeaked weakly, then rolled onto his back and stilled.

The subtitle board trembled as the final words were revealed.

["Goodbye... my brother..."]

The stage fell silent.

The veiled squirrel threw herself over the "corpse," squeaking so mournfully that three guards fell to their knees in tears.

One squirrel at the side slowly lowered a curtain made of bed sheets.

The play ended.

The next second, a squirrel leaped up on the stage and turned its back to the crowd.

Just when everyone tilted their heads, wondering what it was trying to do, it farted.

It echoed like thunder in the silence, but that wasn’t all, as along with the fart came smoke, covering the whole area with it.

The play’s performers scattered in the smoke—how a squirrel farted smoke, no one knew.

By the time the haze cleared, the squirrels were gone. The manor stood still, the guards still crying, utterly unaware their lord had been spirited away under their noses.

Far away, in the shadow of the treeline, the squirrel army regrouped.

The marquise, bound and gagged, was tied to a makeshift sled of sticks.

Nibbles raised one last sign, smirking beneath his helmet.

"Tonight, the nut falls to us."

The squirrels squeaked in thunderous cheer, hauling their prize back toward Raven’s camp.

Just like that, without a single casualty or alarm, the squirrels had pulled off the impossible: a perfect, rodent-powered kidnapping.

The acorn heist was complete.

With this, Nibbles was sure that he could prove to Raven that he was the master of the art of kidnapping.

They didn’t know yet, but later, when this mission was recorded, it would be passed down in Velmorian history, named as Operation Nutcracker

.

However, despite the crazy feat he had pulled off, one worry ate away at the little rodent’s mind.

’Was Alex doing alright?’

That was all Nibbles thought, as Alex rarely worked without him, and when Alex was alone, he behaved weirdly.

So, what was Alex doing right now?

The answer was Kidnapping.

It was just that the way he was doing it was not something one would expect from a dumb guy like him.

His target, unlike Nibbles, was a count.

But just because he was a count didn’t mean he was less important.

This count was one of the richest nobles in the kingdom.

The Count of Dorelle—another one of the neutral faction’s pillars—was a man who enjoyed three things: wine, women, and making everyone else feel poorer.

His manor was crawling with guards, enchanted lanterns, and even a few warding glyphs. It was supposed to be impossible to sneak in.

Yet, a glob of black-red molten slime slithered across the ceiling.

Then another.

Then a man in crimson-black armor swung past a chandelier, clinging upside down with claws dripping lava.

Alex.

Blargh, the lava symbiote, purred in his ear: "Left, Alex. Left. Guard with big nose—stabby-stabby?"

Alex whispered back, "No stabbing, Blargh. Kidnap mission. Stealth."

He said it while dangling two feet above the guard’s head, grinning like an idiot.

The guard looked up.

Alex panicked, slapped his hand on the ceiling, and whispered harshly, "Blarghtackle!"

A glob of lava-goo splattered the man’s face. He slumped silently, stuck to the wall.

Alex blinked. "...Huh. That worked."

He swung onward, whispering dramatic nonsense to himself. "I am... the night. I am... the lava bug. No, wait. Lava-Man? No, already taken..."

Blargh offered, "Molten Daddy?"

"Too weird," Alex muttered, landing catlike on the Marquise’s balcony.

Inside, the noble sat with a goblet, smirking at his reflection in the wine. He never noticed the red-black shadow crawling across the ceiling.

Alex dropped silently behind him, whispering, "Surprise, motherfu—"

Before he could finish, Blargh shot out a tendril, wrapping the Marquise like a burrito. The man flailed once, then was gagged with molten goop and hauled up to the ceiling.

Alex hung upside down beside him, finger to his lips. "Shhh. Kidnapping in progress."

Then he swung out the window with his prize, muttering to Blargh, "Bro... we’re so good at this."

"Molten Daddy strikes again," Blargh replied smugly.

Just like that, without anyone noticing, another noble was stolen into the night.