Chapter 525: Before the Battle (2)

Chapter 525: Chapter 340: Before the Battle (2)

This time, however, he had brought all his forces to bear for a once-and-for-all solution: a full legion of five thousand elite soldiers. Dealing with a Baron who had a few tricks up his sleeve shouldn’t be a major issue. At worst, it would just take a little more time.

And upon seeing the Curved Sabers, Kemish couldn’t suppress a surge of greed.

The fact that this Baron of High Cliff Castle could forge his own weapons proved he definitely owned an iron mine—a source of unimaginable wealth, its value potentially even greater than the slave trade.

After all, one had to find buyers for slaves, but weapons never lacked a market in this world.

Even the natives understood that to possess weapons was to possess money and women.

“But, my dear master, if Debei finds out about this, we could face troublesome consequences and condemnation from the Empire,” the Black slave warrior said hesitantly.

Going to war with a Baron from Debei would clearly cause a dispute between the two nations.

“Getting caught would indeed be a bit troublesome.” Kemish smiled, gazing at the vast, white horizon. The snow fell endlessly across this Wilderness, burying everything and leaving only a desolate, white expanse.

“But the thing is, the Wilderness is a completely remote backwater. With the snow falling nonstop, it’s difficult for merchants, traveling poets, and the like to even enter. And if an obscure Baron—a Baron of Exploration, no less—were to be annihilated, how long would it take for anyone to find out?”

“Perhaps when the snow stops falling?” the Black slave warrior said after a moment of thought.

“No, I’d say at least a year,” Kemish said.

Because, if he recalled correctly, the nobles of Debei were required to pay a tax to the Noble Garden every two years, and the next collection was still a year away.

When a noble failed to pay, the Noble Garden would send someone to investigate whether they were dead or simply trying to evade the fee.

If you asked those pigs in high places to investigate a farmer’s stolen cow, they probably wouldn’t find a thing. But if it was about hunting down a tax-evading noble, they could find them even if they were hiding on the highest snowy peak or in the deepest desert.

But Kemish didn’t voice the main reason: the Persian Gulf Empire was currently stronger than ever, and with the Radical Faction making up seventy percent of the domestic political power, they wouldn’t mind a pretext for war.

…

The sun sank in the west, its last rays tracing golden edges on the tents that sprouted like mushrooms from the snow.

“The King of the Persian Gulf Empire is named Fern the Ninth Golden Diamond. This Monarch more or less just inherited the throne from his father. He has no particular talents to speak of, but he is exceptionally cruel.” Si Kai, dressed in a suit of Plate Armor, sat by the stove warming his hands as he explained the situation in the Persian Gulf Empire to the group.

“How cruel?” Mier asked, chiming in while placing sweet potatoes by the stove.

“Let’s put it this way: he once did something that drew strong condemnation from all Seven Kingdoms.” The Knight, on loan from the Lord, shifted his weight and continued, “To build a Pyramid piled high with gold, he conscripted one hundred thousand slaves. When the Pyramid was complete, he had all one hundred thousand of them buried alive beneath it.”

“That truly is cruel,” Orak, who had been meditating with his eyes closed, couldn’t help but open them and remark.

One hundred thousand might seem like just a cold, hard number, but in reality, the entire population of High Cliff Castle, including the ten thousand Old People who recently joined from the Kas Mountain Range, was just over twenty thousand. You’d have to slaughter everyone in High Cliff Castle five times over to reach that count.

“But why? What good did that do him?” Miriel, the Half-Elf, had changed into a suit of tight Leather Armor that perfectly accentuated her curvaceous figure.

She hadn’t participated in the Lord’s previous Legendary wars, and this time she had insisted on coming along to see the action. The Lord had figured, ‘Not only is she easy on the eyes, but her Archery is also pretty good,’ so he’d let the head of the Secret Silver Commerce Association tag along.

“If anyone knew the reason, he wouldn’t be known for his cruelty, would he?” Si Kai shrugged. “And that’s not the only ‘good deed’ he’s done.”

“If you could call the Persian Gulf Empire a semi-slave state before, now it’s a full-blown slave state. Freemen probably make up less than forty percent of the population.”

“The entire country is ruled by the great Slave Masters of eight major families, and beneath them are countless lesser nobles and minor Slave Masters.”

“These are all policies he’s pushed, aiming to transform the nation into one composed solely of nobles and slaves.”

“Holy shit, and no one’s rebelling?!” the Lord exclaimed, his face a mask of shock as he bit into a juicy, roasted sweet potato.

“My good Lord, how could they rebel?” Si Kai explained patiently. “The commoners of the Persian Gulf Empire are forbidden from possessing any iron items. To do so is considered an attempt to oppose Fern’s regime, and the punishment is beheading. Meanwhile, the Slave Warriors are trained from childhood to be killing machines who view their Slave Masters as their one True God.”

“Though internal unrest has never ceased, it’s obviously impossible to expect a group of commoners armed with wooden pitchforks to succeed in a rebellion.”

“Damn, shouldn’t some hero emerge from nowhere to save the Empire from its plight?” a deeply concerned Lord couldn’t help but blurt out, quoting a line from a Far East stage play.

‘A country made up almost entirely of slaves… I can’t even imagine how terrifying and cruel that must be. Things like human trafficking and forcing women into prostitution have probably become legal acts.’

“Well, one hasn’t appeared yet, has there.”

“Perhaps that hero is… yours truly?” the Lord said with a grin.

Si Kai didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He suspected the Lord had been secretly up half the night reading Knightly Novels again.

“Lord!” Just then, the imposing Hog strode in, dragging a blood-soaked soldier behind him.

“The chitchat’s over. Time for business,” Levi said, tossing the last tip of his sweet potato into his mouth. He clapped the dust from his hands and stood up.

“Lord, we encountered one of their Scout parties, but we let one get away,” the eyepatch-wearing Jackal Wolfman leader said, deeply ashamed.

The scouts’ individual strength may have been average, but they were fearlessly defiant. They had no intention of getting bogged down in a fight; their only goal was to ensure one of them escaped to deliver intelligence, which allowed a single soldier to break through their encirclement.

Perhaps their pride had led them to underestimate their opponents, but what’s done was done. They had let one escape.

“You only improve by taking a few hits. If you never made any mistakes, I’d actually be worried.” Levi patted the Jackal Wolfman’s shoulder, and his words weren’t just for comfort; he meant it.

“This is the one we captured for information, but he won’t talk, no matter how we interrogate him.” Hog nodded seriously, clearly taking Levi’s words to heart.

The prisoner held by the Jackal Wolfman was towering, a full ren and nine-tenths tall, with unique curly brown hair. Though his skin was dark, it was from long exposure to the sun, not his natural complexion.

His Leather Armor was in tatters and his body was covered in blood, clear signs of a prior interrogation. Even so, he laughed. “You sons of bitches from Debei! Don’t even think you’ll get any information about my master from me!”

“You lily-livered son of a whore, I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Before the Lord could even speak, an enraged Hog, spitting a string of Wilderness slang, smashed his fist into the soldier’s face.

To the people of High Cliff Castle, you could insult them… scratch that, you couldn’t insult them, and you definitely couldn’t insult their leader!

Anyone who dared to do so would be given a free, one-way ticket to the afterlife.

“Ghh… hhh…” The soldier tried to say something else, but with a mouth now empty of teeth, his words were just a windy hiss.

Though he was no longer taunting, he didn’t immediately kneel and beg for mercy either.

“Lord, this man is a specially trained slave. Getting him to talk will be difficult,” Si Kai said. He had noticed a whip-shaped brand on the man’s forehead and knew this was one of the Persian Gulf Empire’s Slave Warriors.