The room was silent, save for the faint clinking of utensils as they finished their meal. Edward set down his fork, the weight of what he was about to say evident in his eyes.

"We need to start a war," he declared, his voice steady.

Rick looked at him in disbelief. "Ed, I think you should get some rest."

Edward raised an eyebrow, confused. "Why? Do I look tired?"

Rick sighed, leaning back in his chair. "You tell me. Do you even hear yourself? Starting a war requires immense resources and manpower. Need I remind you we have none of that?"

Even Hans and Derrick exchanged uneasy glances, their skepticism clear.

"Did you eat something that’s making you feel unwell, young master?" Derrick asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

Edward couldn't believe they had so little faith in him. Though, to be fair, if his past self had heard these words, he wouldn’t have believed them either.

"Sigh... You’ve got it wrong. What I mean is, we won’t be the ones fighting."

Rick’s frown deepened. "What do you mean, ‘start a war’ if we’re not going to fight?"

Edward smiled slightly. "Curious, right? I knew you’d ask that. Here’s the plan: As you know, the Lancasters and our family, the Yorks, have been at each other's throats for a long time. This town itself is proof of that. With a little push, things will escalate into a full-blown war. And as the two families fight among themselves, we’ll wait. When they’re at their weakest, that’s when we strike."

A heavy silence fell upon the group as they processed Edward’s words, still harboring doubts.

"If you don’t mind me asking, young master, how do we give them that ‘little push’ exactly?" Derrick asked.

Edward chuckled. "We’ll cause chaos in both territories, making each side think the other is responsible. As for manpower, we can search for mercenaries to supplement our numbers."

As the idea sank in, a newfound respect for Edward began to form in their hearts.

"Where did you learn all this?" Rick asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Well, although Richard III did screw us over, he did teach me a few things during that month," Edward replied with a wry smile.

"Guess there’s a bit of good in everyone, even if it’s just a little," Hans remarked, smiling.

“Hey, Ed, there’s one more thing I don’t get. Where do we find these mercenaries, and with what funds?” Rick inquired, his concern still evident.

Edward sighed softly but smiled. "Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it?"

Hans leaned back, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "If it’s just about gathering mercenaries, we might try something."

"And what might that be?" They all looked at him curiously.

Hans grinned. "Tell me, young master Edward, have you ever been kidnapped?"

...

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Two days had passed since that conversation, and Rick found himself standing near the town’s abbey*[1] tower with Derrick. From their vantage point, they could see most of the town. The dilapidated part of the city stood as a testament to the war that had once raged here.

Both Rick and Derrick were dressed in black clothes, hoods pulled low over their faces. Rick had a bow and arrows slung across his back.

They watched from a distance as Edward and Hans moved through the town, buying various items. Their extravagance was noticeable, drawing the eyes of everyone they passed. Rick’s heart ached at the thought of the money they had been spending over the past two days, but he knew it was necessary.

Rick observed closely as Edward drifted away from the group, moving as if he were merely exploring more of the town. He ventured only a few blocks before he was subtly taken by someone.

Hans didn’t react, continuing his role as the indulgent merchant father, seemingly unaware that his ‘son’ had wandered off. Of course, it was all part of the plan.

Rick and Derrick exchanged a quick glance. They knew what came next. They swiftly moved toward the location where Edward had vanished. Derrick’s sharp eyes and keen senses led them to an abandoned house on the edge of town.

"This is where they took him," Derrick said with a smirk. "Amateurs. They didn’t even bother covering their tracks."

Rick couldn’t help but smile at Derrick’s confidence. They called over the other No-Names, who quickly surrounded the house, watching it closely. They waited until nightfall when they saw more figures slipping into the building. It seemed they had found the kidnappers' den.

Derrick gave the order. "Incapacitate everyone, but don’t kill anyone. We need them alive."

The No-Names moved swiftly and silently, like shadows in the night.

Loud noises could be heard from the house. Derrick counted to ten in his head, then motioned for Rick to follow him.

They approached the door with the precision of a well-rehearsed plan. But just as they were about to make their grand entrance, the front door swung open.

Edward stepped out, a nasty bruise forming on his cheek. He looked at Rick and Derrick, his expression a mix of irritation and amusement. "Took your time, didn’t you?"

Rick grinned. "Stop whining. I’d say you handled yourself pretty well."

Edward snorted. "Fine. But next time, it’s your turn."

Rick shrugged. "Fine, if it’ll make you stop whining."

They stepped inside, the stench of fear thick in the air. The No-Names had already secured the place, and the kidnappers were huddled together, trembling. Derrick scanned the room, his gaze locking onto the leader of the group.

They had separated the leader from the others, and the group approached him as Derrick squatted down near him.

"Now then, I’ve got a couple of questions for you. Do you mind answering?" Derrick asked, his tone deceptively friendly.

The man stared at him blankly, his resolve to stay silent evident.

"You want to go down that road, huh? I’m cool with it—just don’t break too fast," Derrick said, reaching into his coat and pulling out a bag filled with different kinds of blades—small ones, big ones, thin, tall...

He took a piece of cloth and stuffed it into the man’s mouth to muffle the screams. What followed was a brutal interrogation, the kind that made Edward turn away, his stomach churning. He stepped outside, needing fresh air, while Rick stayed behind, watching the proceedings with morbid curiosity.

The night sky was clear, the stars twinkling above as Edward leaned against the wall of the house. He looked up at the stars, his thoughts racing. Soon, he told himself. Soon, they would be in a position to win.

...

The sound of breaking glass echoed through the room. A figure slipped into the chamber through the shattered window, moving with quiet precision. He took a moment to survey his surroundings before settling into a chair, watching the man who lay sleeping in the bed.

When the man awoke at daybreak, he was startled to see a stranger sitting calmly in his room. He opened his mouth to call for help, but the stranger—Hans—raised a hand, his expression calm but menacing.

"Don’t. If you still value your life, that is."

The man hesitated, then slowly nodded. He could sense the danger in Hans’ tone, the undercurrent of violence held in check by a thread.

"Now that we’re on the same page, I’ll start by introducing myself. I have no name. As for the reason I’m here, well..."

Hans leaned forward, his eyes cold. "Your men kidnapped one of my young masters."

The man’s face paled as the realisation of his situation hit him. He stammered out an apology, offering to pay handsomely for forgiveness, for the lives of his subordinates.

Hans laughed, the sound devoid of humour. "Instead of that, I have a proposal for you. It’s risky, but at least you won’t be dying today."

The man swallowed hard, his mind racing with possibilities.

Hans leaned back, a slow smile spreading across his face. "What do you say, partner?"

AUTHOR's Note: [1] for those who don't know its the same as a cathedral