I'm still here. Being a Linderberg is like having lice; you can't get rid of us. We come back every year, stronger than ever.

Business was booming at the start of 1528. I eventually lost track of the years. What year was it again? Uh, 85, 86, 90 years? Anyway, it doesn't matter.

The Mage Guild was the latest addition to the family. All I needed was a handful of herbs you could gather from nature. Between that, the bank, and the bribes, it was going pretty well. My only goal now was to get my family up the ranks of the town hall so that my efforts wouldn't have been in vain.

Edward Junior could live a few more years, but Champlain and I were already old. The successor was supposed to be him, Paul Linderberg, trained in a guild of artisans, but between us, he was a bit of an idiot. I hope his children, my great-grandchildren, will be a bit smarter.

Meanwhile, we continued our little routine in this lovely little town of Lyubeck. Every night at the same time, I set fire to all the houses of my rivals, and around 4 a.m., it's bomb time, a bit more traditional.

Since the village rooster died in a fire, it's the bomb explosions that tell the inhabitants what time it is. It shows that humans can adapt to anything.

To climb the hierarchy of the town hall, I have a plan. The position of landowner, the gateway to a town hall position, is currently held by Arthur Lancaster, a member of the Lancaster family. The problem is that Atwood Lancaster, also from the same family, was bound to vote for his retention. So the solution was simple: abuse my powers.

'May I never see you around here again, you're banished.' And there you go, now he can't vote. See? Politics is much simpler. Ah! I think it's 8 o'clock, the 8:05 bomb tells us it's time to go to work.

By the way, while I was quietly planting my bombs, I happened to stumble upon a fight outside the tavern. Thieves were fighting with the town bishop right in front of the guards. This was a clear case of the rich abusing the poor.

Ah, but we have to help these poor innocent people, right? It just so happened that among the injured in this brawl was also the person who was supposed to attend my son's trial. His absence had, unfortunately, resulted in the immediate cancellation of the trial.

Well, maybe next time he'll hurry up and arrive early, or in another life perhaps. Oh, come on, it's fine, isn't it? He's a bishop, he believes in heaven, doesn't he? So, in a way, I'm doing him a favor.

Oh yes, in the meantime, I also burned down the church. What? The bishop was dead, and with the guy I had banished, it cleared up some territorial space. Plus, that way, Paul could easily step into the game.

So it was my son, Edward Junior, who also left the inner circle to make way for my grandson's wife, Narissa.

They are young and vigorous while I felt myself slowly dying. Unless... unless I made a pact with the devil and drank this potion. A potion made from coagulated demon blood and the heart of blind orphaned babies strangled at birth. But was I really ready for such a sacrifice to live longer because of that? OH HELL YEAH.

'Move aside, pigs!' Castille Linderberg is back. Getting a second youth feels amazing.

My goal now that I had become young again was to see my son die. I mean, watching your kids die of old age is pretty cool, right?

So, I began to live long enough to see my great-grandchildren. Narissa, Paul's wife, had just given birth to a child, a boy. Seriously, was it too much to ask to have girls once in a while?

But it's good to have boys. They are strong and will carry on the lineage. Sure, they don't sell for much, but at least I was happy with the good news. Narissa was a builder's daughter, which meant we were finally going to get our mine. No more material shortages and supply issues that put us in trouble. Now, we'll be able to shit gold coins, so let's celebrate by burning down some buildings and poisoning the town's well.

Unfortunately, my celebration was quickly spoiled. It had to happen sooner or later, but Champlain had just died, and now the whole family was by his side, mourning. I still remember that day when I forced him to marry me and all those people I asked him to kill. He never said no because he loved me. Ah, I guess I'm next.

After all, I was 97 years old; I had lived even longer than Grandpa Edward. No! No way, I refuse to die, I'd rather drop dead. There's nothing like a little witchcraft with the devil when everything goes to hell.

'Castille! If you sell me your soul, I'll let you live for twenty more years. Make a pact with me!' he had said. Very funny, this little devil. No, no, he didn't get it. If he let me live twenty more years, I let him leave my place with his balls still attached to his body. He wasn't the one making a deal with me; I was the one making a deal with him. Fortunately, he eventually got the message.

However, now with all that, I had the charisma of a rock that had soaked in a pigsty, but I didn't care. When I reached 150 years old and was still not dead, we'll see if people start asking questions.

By the way, now that I was as strong as an ox and mastered Satan's jujitsu, I planned to add another card to my bombing attacks. So I started insulting everyone in town and provoking them into duels. Afterward, I'd beat them up.

Yeah, I know, politics isn't what people think it is. The whole family joined in, by the way. Narissa, my grandson's wife, her thing was more about poisons and assassinations. You see? She mastered the black widow's poison perfectly, it's painless, and it kills within a few hours.

Well, assassination was a bit pricey, and besides, I was no longer at an age for that sort of thing. I preferred bombs, violence, and abuse of power.

By banishing people left and right, I finally reached my goal: the whole family was in place. My grandson Paul and his wife Narissa were ready to take over the moment I left this world.

The dynasty was secured, and I was reassured. So now, there was only one thing left for me to do: kill as many people as possible before leaving this world.

Passersby who wandered too far from town? It's dangerous here, sir, don't you know there are wolves armed with swords roaming around? A house that doesn't suit me? Hop hop, you're in a flood zone, we'll put it down.

There's no point in running. You spilled your coffee, that's eight years in jail.

Oh, look at this lovely family, gathered in the same place, men, women, children, elders. The warm glow of homes, the joy of being together, united in the flames.

Ah, is it already 5 o'clock? Hey Satan, I hope you're telling Grandpa to watch closely. I hope so, you better.

Moreover, I multiplied the trials everywhere by sending my informers throughout the town. Yeah, my informers are people whose job is to report criminals so we can sue them. Look at this beautiful list of criminals, we had plenty of evidence on them, like: attacking civilians, attacking carts, kidnapping...

Well, there was also some small evidence against me, but we're not here to talk about me; we're here to talk about the real criminals. And then, my grandson's wife became a bishop. So, God forgave me again, and that's good because I feel something's going to happen. A bad feeling, call it a woman's intuition if you like.

At first, I thought it would be deaths in the family. First, it was Luisa's turn. I have no idea who that could have been. I guess it was my daughter. Then, it was my son Edward Junior at the age of 83. And yes! I finally managed to outlive my children, but still, it was a bit annoying because we lost a seat on the council. But my bad feeling didn't come from that.

And finally it happened, in the winter of 1528, I was captured by the dungeon master, Gilroy Tricorno. He had recently been appointed to the council and was already abusing his powers, even though he had no evidence against me. How dare he touch me? Me? I am the queen! Well, if that's how it is, we'll play this little game together.

It just so happens that last summer I built a mercenary fortress south of the town. So I gathered almost all of my troops and sent them to the Tricorno family home. No living being will leave that house. Women, children, none, burn it.

After a few hours, I was finally released from the dungeons without confessing anything, but there would be no forgiveness.

I moved myself to the battlefield to finish off the last survivors. Even the town guard will be massacred in their pathetic attempt to stop my revenge.

By the end of the day, the house was destroyed by my orders. It's the end of the Tricorno dynasty. There remains only the old man who ordered my imprisonment, standing dazed before the empty fields where his home once stood.

Now that your entire family has been massacred, was it worth it, Gilroy? I imagine you must have had a good laugh when you ordered my imprisonment. Except you forgot the first rule of leadership: never strike against someone stronger than you. Slit his throat!

I have been indulgent for far too long. The duels didn't work, the bombs didn't work, diplomacy didn't work, the trials didn't work, so now, it's war.