Re: Blood and Iron

Christoph and the count met outside the villa well within the courtyard's grounds. Considering they were far enough away from the city within the Prussian countryside, and there was an actual shooting range built into Christoph's estate, much like his fathers where he grew up during his early years. It would not be the least bit suspicious if a gunshot or two went off at this time of day.

The sun was bright, and the sky was clear, while the weather was warm, but not overly hot. It was a fine spring afternoon, and a most surely an ideal day for a duel. Tradition had been ignored, as it would normally be the Count's right as the challenged to pick the method of the duel.

He would also normally have a second to vouch that this event had occurred. But such days were long past, and this little squabble of theirs was most certainly illegal. Thus, the honorable traditions of a bygone era were not granted at this time.

No, this was a way for two men with animosity towards one another to settle their grievances without resorting to bludgeoning each other with their fists like savages, nor petitioning the court to listen to their bickering like men who lacked a pair of testicles between their legs.

Each man was issued a pistol, a breechloading weapon designed by waffenwerke von Zehntner, and masterfully crafted with the most advanced steelmaking technique known to man. The barrels were button rifled to an ideal twist rate and were manufactured from modern 4150 chrome moly vanadium steel.

While the receiver was forged of sterner stuff, ideal for long-term abuse and rigidity. The breakaway action was quick, tactile, ambidextrous, and robust. Robust enough to handle the extensive power of the .45-70 hand loads that Christoph had personally crafted for his own use on the range.

The man fancied the extensively powerful rifle round that in a bit of comedic marketing would be officially rated to take down a tyrannosaurus rex in promotional material for a popular move franchise rebooted sometimes during the 2010s of Bruno's past life.

It was, of course powerful enough to do so in its non-magnum format. The rounds loaded into these pistols were, of course hollow point ammunition.

After ensuring that their weapons were properly loaded, and were primed to fire Christoph briefly went over the rules with his opponent before they took their places on the courtyard in front of a solid gold statue dedicated to an obscure ancient Greek goddess that Christoph had personally commissioned as he fancied the mythology of the ancient world.

"The rules are simple. We take ten steps in opposing directions, turn around and fire our shot. If both of us are still standing at the end, we will consider it a draw, fair?"

Seeing how Christoph was not going to force the man to continue with this farce until one of them was dead the count was quick to sigh in relief, that is until an important questioned was triggered within his mind.

"And what happens if this little contest of ours results in a draw?"

Christoph smirked. He was an expert marksman, a former Jaeger officer whose qualifications with pistols and rifles were at the peak of military excellency. And he had been training with this massive breech loading pistol for some time now.

One whose breakneck recoil was more than enough to cause serious bodily harm to a lesser man, who might end up snapping himself in the face with it. Nevertheless, he answered the Count by telling him exactly what he wanted to hear before sinisterly stepping towards his starting position.

"I'll consider it my loss, and our matters will settle once and for all. As a result, any evidence I have of your extracurricular activities will be burned in front of your eyes, and I will treat it as if I had never seen it. Fair?"

The count was quick to agree to these terms. The pistol was heavy, far heavier than he imagined it would be. He doubted anyone could reliably fire off a shot at short notice and actually hit their target even at ten paces out.

Because of this, he was confident this would be his win as he took his starting position. The referee of this contest was the head of Christoph's house staff, who began the countdown.

"You may proceed…"

The count had his back to Christoph, as Christoph had his back turned to him and had begun taking his steps. With each movement of his feet, he felt as if his heart was about to explode from the overwhelming pounding that was resounding in his ears.

It was so loud that after the third step he had hardly heard the premature gunfire which echoed across the vicinity. At first he thought perhaps he was hearing things, until he realized there was a massive hole in his chest, causing him to gaze in shock as he fell to the ground tumbling over into a position where his vision quickly began to fade. Discover stories with My Virtual Library Empire

The last thing he could see was Christoph walking towards him, ejecting the spent cartridge from his breech loader with particularly joyful gait in his step, along with a devilish grin on his face.

After which he bent over and collected the man's own pistol, which Christoph had given him for the sake of the duel, and began to process of clearing it, and cleaning it without a second thought to the man who was rapidly fading away beneath his feet.

And finally, there was utter darkness. The last thought the count had was, "why?"

---

Christoph's servants immediately began to dispose of the body, while the referee shook his head and clicked his tongue while voicing his disapproval.

"Of all the unsportsmanlike conduct I have seen in my life, this has got to be by far the most dishonorable… Really, master Christoph? This is how you wish to behave during your first duel?"

The head of Christoph's staff was a generational servant of the von Zehntner family. He had been around long enough to personally witness the splendor of duels fought within the household. He had also seen the practice outlawed and disappear entirely.

For this to be the last duel he would ever witness in his life, Christoph's actions were nothing short of distasteful. However, it was the words he spoke after being called out on this dishonorable behavior that would perhaps haunt the aging specter most of all.

"Honor is the prize of a fool, Walter… The dead have no use for glory... You think your fanciful ideals of honor win wars or protect the family legacy? No, it is iron and blood. It has always been this way.

You who have never served in the army, and have been at my family's side as a mere servant since the day you were born have only ever seen the vain trappings of chivalry we nobleman put on as a display to maintain the façade that we are more than mere killers.

Every single nobleman worth his salt rose to his position because he was damn good at killing his monarch's enemies. I was not going to leave this matter to mere chance… He had to die today. And soon rumor will spread that the last place he was spotted before he went missing was my home.

They won't find a body. The age of industry and science has made disposing of such things quite easy for those who possess the knowledge, wealth, and means to do so. But there will always be a reminder that the Count disappeared after his wife had insulted my family.

And that should remind these cretins who have been resting on the laurels of better men for far too long that my family is still too young to tolerate such things without resorting to force as a means of retaliation. And violence, Walter, is the supreme force in this world, of which all other means of authority are derived.

If you want to send a message, it's best to make it a bloody spectacle. Nobody will ever forget such a thing, even if they can't prove you did it. Now, come, these priceless pistols aren't going to clean themselves, now are they?"

Christoph did not say another word after this. The count's body would be dragged off by his men, where it would be dissolved in acid, and buried in a barrel in some random plot of public land. Deep enough never to be disturbed. As for the blood that stained the Earth within Christoph's estate.

It would seem that God had shown his favor to the von Zehntner family on this day, as an unusual storm broke out over the outskirts of Berlin shortly thereafter, washing away any trace of what had happened this day. Whether that be gunpowder residue, blood, or sinew.

Thus, the silent guardian of the von Zehntner family, and the most inconspicuous of his siblings, went back to performing his day job. Which was operating the family business on his elder brother's behalf.

And as Christoph suspected, things would suddenly become very quiet after that regarding any less than desirable rumors that may have been spreading about Bruno's family. Almost as if one were to speak ill of them, even within closed doors among close friends, they would be inviting the devil into their midst.