CHAPTER 63: THE CITY WAS CHANGING

Several days had passed since the Baron’s orders had set into motion the sweeping crackdown on numerous local gangs in the central districts of the city. The campaign against these smaller criminal groups, though less notorious than the great factions, had begun to shift the atmosphere within Rammstein.

On one such day, within the palace grounds, Baron Estefan sat comfortably in a chair placed in the midst of the expansive grassy courtyard.

The sun was warm, the breeze gentle, and the surroundings exuded a rare sense of calm. "Quite peaceful, isn’t it?" he remarked casually, his posture relaxed as he surveyed the open space before him.

"Yes, my lord," replied Galliard, standing respectfully at his side. "I’d say this peace exists only because of your leadership. Without your intervention, this part of the city would still be steeped in the same chaos it had endured for years."

"You’re not wrong," Estefan responded with quiet confidence. "If it weren’t for me, the city would have rotted into ruin under the weight of all that filth. At least now the cleaners are doing their jobs properly, keeping the streets free of the scum that once plagued them." His tone was laced with mockery, a reflection of how utterly degenerate he found the state of the city before his arrival.

Before Estefan’s reforms, the City Guard had been little more than a puppet force as its officers pressured, bought, and bent by the whims of crime lords who paid their superiors.

By removing all those worst corrupt influences, Estefan had given the remaining Guard the chance to function as they should. But he knew this was far from the end since many more filth still festered within the city, and those remnants had to be excised, no matter the cost.

Slowly but surely, his actions were reshaping Rammstein. The gangs felt their grip loosening, their once-secure power being eroded.

The common folk, for the first time in years, began to resist the decay rather than resign themselves to it.

Many placed their faith in the Baron, seeing in him a stark contrast to the Duke. Where the Duke’s campaign against crime had turned civilians into collateral damage and making scapegoats of the innocent but Estefan’s strikes had been precise.

Criminals died, but the deaths of noncombatants were little to less, making him seem to the people a far better leader than the man who had sired him.

"I hope this peace lasts," Galliard said with a faint smile, watching the quiet city from the courtyard.

"Oh, it will," Estefan answered with absolute certainty. "As long as I rule here, nothing will disturb the order. Under my watch, the city will thrive."

"I’m sure the Duke is proud of your work, my lord," Galliard ventured, unaware of the poisonous truth between father and son.

Estefan’s lips curled into a mocking grin. "Oh, I’m sure he’s delighted," he said with cutting irony. In truth, the Duke had no such feelings, he had hoped the chaos of Rammstein would be the death of his eldest son, turning the assignment into a win-win situation.

Yet Estefan had not only survived but turned the city’s decay into an opportunity to shine. The very scenario meant to break him had instead bolstered his position.

Most reports sent to Luso, the Duchy’s seat of power, where Duke Gerin Angeras and the rest of the family resided were carefully shaped to paint Estefan in the most favorable light possible.

Dangerous incidents, such as the attack on the city gates, were deliberately omitted to avoid prompting unwanted interference.

The use of thunder barrels in such an event would have drawn the eyes of the entire Kingdom to Rammstein, bringing other nobles and possibly the Royal Court itself into the fray. Estefan could not risk that since too many in those circles bore him ill will.

The truth was grim, his father despised him, and the Royal Family had no reason to lend him aid. The King’s sister was his brother’s mother, a blood tie that excluded him entirely. Isolated, Estefan knew he could count on no allies in high places.

The only advantage he possessed was his position as the heir to a powerful, autonomous ducal house, a house that had once resisted the Kingdom’s conquest, only to later join on its own terms.

The Angeras Duchy had seized territory from the Kingdom during those wars, and its ruling family had kept a distance from outside nobility ever since. The other lords of Ikarus regarded them as outsiders, resenting their self-sufficiency and autonomy which they didn’t have.

For Estefan, inheriting such a position was no guarantee of safety or acceptance. Even if he were to overthrow his father and claim the Duchy, he suspected the other nobles might unite against him, provoking a territorial war under the guise of reclaiming lands for the Kingdom.

This understanding led him to a sobering conclusion that he would not only have to contend with enemies within his own bloodline but potentially face the animosity of the entire Kingdom.

The Duchy’s western frontier was the Kingdom’s border, but to the north, south, and east lay the lands of rival nobles, any one of whom might seize the opportunity to strike. If war came, he could be facing three fronts at once.

"The city must prepare," Estefan said at last, his tone carrying the weight of a warning.

"Prepare, my lord? Why would we need to do that? Once the city is purged of crime, shouldn’t peace follow naturally?" Galliard asked, a trace of worry in his voice.

"Peace, yes... but eternal peace?" Estefan shook his head. "That’s a fantasy. Conflict is inevitable because human nature ensures it. We may enjoy peace for a time, but the day will come when it is broken."

"And who would dare challenge the City under the Duchy’s possession?" Galliard asked, puzzled. The Angeras Knights were, after all, renowned as the finest military force in the Kingdom.

Estefan tapped his fingers slowly against the chair’s armrest. "There is always someone stronger, no matter how mighty you think you are." His gaze turned toward the horizon.

Galliard, curious about the next steps, asked, "When will the City Guard finally move against those two factions?" It was a fair question since after all, the City was effectively split in half, with one side firmly under Zorthar’s grip and the other dominated by Lutis.

For years, the so-called City Government had been nothing more than a puppet dancing to the tune of these two powers.

Whenever Zorthar or Lutis demanded something, the officials complied without hesitation, their coffers filled by the endless bribes thrown their way.

Whatever these factions wanted, they got as they had total freedom to act as they pleased. Their orders carried the weight of law simply because the city’s government declared it so.

There had been no way to stop this rot. At least, not until Estefan dismantled the old administration entirely.

With the corrupt government erased, he moved to stabilize the City by rebuilding and empowering the City Guard. Once dismissed as little more than the gangs personal playthings, these men now had their pride restored.

The Baron changed their entire mindset as transforming them from submissive, defeated soldiers who believed servitude to criminals was the safest path, into disciplined warriors with the will to fight. Now, they stood ready to strike back, bringing justice where there had once been none.

The ongoing campaign across the central districts was proof of this transformation. The crackdown was ruthless but not against innocent civilians, but against the criminals themselves, who were hunted down like prey by relentless predators. No quarter was given as the enemies were struck down the moment they were found.

And yet, the gangs did not cower in the shadows. Arrogant and certain of their strength, they confronted the Guard head-on, dismissing this newfound bravery as mere posturing that could be crushed through sheer force.

The result was chaos with the streets turned into battlegrounds, buildings hastily converted into fortified positions, and violent sieges breaking out to dismantle these improvised strongholds.

The fighting was fierce. Civilians were warned to keep away from these hot zones, but that hardly stopped them from coming to watch.

What followed was almost surreal. Crowds gathered at a safe distance, cheering for the City Guards as if witnessing a grand spectacle.

Betting became a pastime as wagers were placed on which criminal would fall first, which Guard would score the first kill, and who amongst the City Guards would rack up the highest kill count.

Strangely enough, this public attention pushed the Guards to perform even better. What had once been a force plagued by laziness now thrived under the eyes of their supporters, their morale soaring.

Meanwhile, the gangs morale began to crumble as the realisation sank in that the City’s people were no longer afraid of them.

Once, these criminals ruled entirely by fear. Anyone daring to oppose them would be slaughtered and displayed as a warning, all while the Guard stood idle. But that time had passed. Now, the Guard stood as the City’s defenders, actively fighting to uphold the law and deliver justice to anyone who dared break it.

[To be Continued]