Chapter 83
The soldiers standing behind Sir Decal began to murmur anxiously.
"Treason? Marquis Leandro was plotting treason?" a soldier asked.
"This is madness! If we get caught up in this, we're dead too," another said.
"Our families... Our families will suffer..." still another added.
It only took them a second for their morale to break. The soldiers who had been standing firm to stop the rebels now found their resolve crumbling under the weight of the situation. In a way, it was natural. That was just how treason charges had always been.
Sir Decal, who had been watching the situation, shouted hurriedly, "Don't be swayed by such nonsense! We are not the rebels here!"
He tried to calm the troops, but the cracks in their morale had already begun to spread. And Caron, with his unrelenting words, only continued to stir them further.
"Since you soldiers have only followed orders from your superiors," Caron called out smoothly. "If you join us now and help us suppress these real rebels, we'll make sure to take that into account. But if you stand against us... You'll die as traitors. I swear on my grandfather's name."
Caron invoked the Leston family name with ease, and the soldiers couldn't help but be affected. They all knew the weight that name carried, and the promise it held. His clever persuasion made them waver.
It's over, Caron thought to himself as he watched the soldiers slowly falter; a silent smile crossed his lips. This wasn't the first time he'd used such tactics. Back when he was a knight commander in the royal forces, this was how he'd crushed rebellions under the old king's orders. He sowed discord within the enemy ranks, rather than simply overpowering them. And now, with the enemy's numbers far greater than his own, this strategy was more effective than ever.
"Cobler," Caron said casually.
Cobler quickly covered his mouth with his hand as he answered, "Yes, Young Master?"
"How many of these soldiers are involved in the slave trade?" Caron asked.
"...Hmm, probably not too many. Marquis Leandro doesn't trust anyone outside of the nobility. I'm sure the officers are involved, but holding the lower-ranked soldiers responsible would be a bit excessive—" Cobler explained.
"Did I ever say I was holding anyone responsible?" Caron cut him off. He didn't intend to kill them all, although there would be a thorough investigation later.
He nodded lightly, raising his sword and pointing it directly at Decal before saying, "It seems the soldiers have made their choice. What about you? What's yours?"
"...What exactly do you want from me?" Sir Decal asked quietly.
"The same thing I asked of Noor. Betray your boss," Caron said coldly.
Decal's voice wavered as he asked, "And in return, what would I get—"
Before Decal could finish, Caron lunged at him with lightning speed. Decal tried to block the sudden attack by raising his sword, but Caron's sword twisted like a snake and grazed his shoulder as it passed by.
Thud.
Decal heard something hit the ground. He looked down, dazed, and saw his right arm lying there alongside his sword.
Then, the pain hit him.
"Guhhh...!"
Agonizing pain surged from the stump where his arm had been. Behind him, the soldiers trembled, raising their swords.
"Sir Decal!" one of them called out.
But none of them dared to attack Caron. Their instincts screamed at them that attacking him would mean certain death.
"Since you want a reward, I'll give you one," Caron said, his voice casual as he ground Decal's severed arm under his boot. "I'll let you live."
Decal's face twisted in a mixture of pain and humiliation, but he didn't resist. Despite his desire to fight back against this monster, he was paralyzed by fear. His legs trembled violently as he looked up at Caron. In this situation, the entire concept of loyalty to Marquis Leandro felt distant and meaningless.
With no other option left, Decal dropped to his knees and shouted desperately, "I'll testify! Marquis Leandro... He has been plotting rebellion... rebellion against the empire!"
Caron sneered and said, "You fold faster than light. A natural-born traitor, aren't you?"
"I-I'll say whatever you want... W-Whatever you tell me," Decal stuttered.
"There you go. Natural-born traitors like you are always the ones who survive the longest. Yes, you should live. What's more important than that, right?" Caron remarked with a satisfied smirk on his face.
A severed arm in exchange for survival. That was a cheap price to pay. Decal had crumbled in an instant. And seeing their deputy commander surrender, the other three knights quickly dropped their swords to the ground in defeat.
Caron watched them, then made a subtle gesture toward Cobler and said, "Tie them up and throw them in your prison."
Cobler hesitated, looking troubled as he replied, "...These men are knights, my lord. Normal restraints won't be enough—"
"That's all you need help with?" Caron interrupted.
"Yes, that's—" Cobler couldn't finish his sentence.
Boom!
Caron drove his fist into the chests of the kneeling knights who had just surrendered. The sound of his strikes echoed like an explosion; all four knights, including Decal, collapsed, frothing at the mouth as they lost consciousness.
The violence was sudden and brutal, leaving Cobler so startled that he hiccuped in surprise.
Caron casually dusted off his hands and said nonchalantly, "I've only destroyed half of their mana cores, so they should wake up by tomorrow. Problem solved, right?"
"O-Of course! Hey! What are you standing around for? Hurry up and drag these knights out of here!" Cobler shouted at his men. They scrambled to carry the unconscious knights away, dragging them like sacks as they disappeared into the distance.
Caron watched them go, then suddenly remembered something. He muttered, "I should've asked where they kept the slaves."
Just then, a soldier, visibly trembling and hesitant, approached him. His face was pale with fear, but he gathered his courage and said in a trembling voice, "L-Lord Caron Leston, sir. I... I have something to report... J-Just one thing."
The soldier, a young man with a simple, almost innocent appearance, stood stiffly before him. Caron flashed a bright smile and greeted him warmly. "What's your name?"
"My name is Kobi, sir," the soldier replied.
"Well, Kobi, I'm glad to see someone with the right attitude. So, what's this information you have for me?" Caron asked.
Despite Caron's gentle tone, Kobi couldn't resist trembling. The memory of Caron severing Decal's arm and ruthlessly beating the knights was still fresh in his mind. But even so, he found the courage to speak up. The word "treason" rattled around in his simple mind, terrifying him.
Anything but treason... I can't be involved in that! Kobi thought. If he got caught up in charges of treason, it wouldn't just be him. His wife and children back home would also be dragged into the mess. He had to protect his family. So, he decided to share the suspicious activity he'd noticed.
"There's a garden behind the main building. It's off-limits to soldiers, but... I've seen knights going in and out of there," Kobi explained nervously.
"That was just the information I needed. I appreciate your proactive cooperation, Kobi. You've got the right spirit," Caron replied.
"Th-thank you, Lord Caron! I've always taken pride in serving the empire as a soldier. I've never been involved in any rebellion, I swear—" Kobi began to explain himself.
But Caron interrupted by patting Kobi on the back and laughed. "Do you really think I'd hold a soldier like you accountable? Don't worry. I'll remember how helpful you've been. By the way, could you guide me to that garden?"
"Of course, sir!" Kobi replied eagerly.
It was finally time to free the slaves.
***
Following Kobi's lead, Caron arrived at the garden. In a corner of the wall, hidden beneath dense foliage, was a door cleverly disguised by the greenery.
"Smells fishy already," Caron muttered as he tapped the door lightly with his hand. It felt heavy to the touch, clearly reinforced with thick metal. The idea of such a fortified door in the middle of a garden seemed odd, to say the least.
"You did well, Kobi," Caron said, commending the soldier who had guided him here. Placing a hand on Kobi's shoulder, he continued, "From now on, you're the commander of the second division. You'll lead the soldiers outside."
"C-Commander?" Kobi stuttered in disbelief.
"You've joined our cause now, haven't you? You'll fight alongside us. When we've eradicated the traitors, I'll make sure you're rewarded accordingly. So, you'd better fight hard," Caron added.
Kobi's eyes lit up with determination as he snapped into a salute and said, "I will serve with all my loyalty!"
"Commander of the second division, this place is my responsibility now. Go take command of the soldiers," Caron instructed.
"Understood, sir!" Kobi replied, then quickly disappeared from sight, eager to fulfill his new role.
Once he was gone, Caron turned his attention to the door. Gripping his sword, Guillotine, he stared it down.
"Owner, that door is reinforced with mana stones and covered with defensive spells," Guillotine's voice echoed in Caron's mind.
Caron could sense the faint hum of mana emanating from the door, just as Guillotine had noted. The door was securely locked, likely with a key hidden somewhere in the main building. But Caron had no interest in wasting time searching for it.
Whoosh.
With a low hum, Guillotine's blade began to glow with a dark blue aura, the telltale sign of intense mana energy. This aura was a manifestation of Caron's overwhelming power, proof that he had surpassed the rank of a 6-Star knight. It was a realm of ability reserved only for the most elite.
Then without hesitation, Caron brought the blade down onto the door.
CRACK!
The door split in two with a grotesque screech. One half remained attached to the hinges, clinging to the wall, while the other crashed to the floor with a thunderous noise. Beyond the shattered door lay a descending staircase.
"What is it with people around here and their love for staircases?" Caron grumbled as he began making his way down.
According to the catalog Noor had shown him back in the auction house, there were seven slaves held here. Of those, two had particularly caught Caron's eye. They were individuals who could prove useful for his plans. They were the reason he had come here before dealing with the other slave camps.
"Hm." Caron descended further until the staircase finally ended, revealing a prison-like facility. The eerie silence that filled the space made the air feel heavy.
Caron grabbed a lantern hanging on the wall and struck a match to light it. With a flicker, the lantern illuminated the space around him, and the scene slowly came into view. He was standing in an underground prison filled with iron bars, a maze of cells stretching into the darkness. On one side, a section was not only barred but completely sealed off by metal walls, isolating whatever was inside.
Without a second thought, Caron approached the sealed area. Raising his sword once more, he sliced through the door.
Thud.
As the door fell, Caron stepped inside. His ears caught the faint sound of a voice.
"...Ah, the scent of blood." The voice was rough and cracked, as if it belonged to someone who hadn't had water in a long time.
Caron lifted the lantern, casting light toward the source of the voice. There, lying on the ground, was a beastfolk woman; her hands and feet were bound. Her pointed ears and tail gave away her non-human heritage.
Beside her, a towering figure stood bound in chains; he was a giant. His head almost touched the ceiling. He glared down at Caron with eyes full of suspicion.
"Human. Are you my enemy too?" the giant asked, his deep voice booming through the chamber.
Caron calmly approached them, then in a low voice he said, "Pleased to meet you, everyone."
The beastfolk woman's voice was filled with wariness as she muttered, "...A new scent. Several kinds of blood mixed in. Human, who are you?"
Caron chuckled softly and replied, "I doubt telling you my name will mean much to you. In a place like this, do names even matter? I've come to set you free."
Standing between the two of them, his tone softened as he introduced himself. "My name is Caron Leston, youngest grandson of Grand Duke Halo and a member of the noble Leston family. Have you heard of me?"
At this, the giant nodded his head enthusiastically and answered, "The Leston family! A house of honorable warriors! It is an honor to meet you. I am Utula of the Black Axe Tribe!" His reply was filled with energy that was almost out of place amid the grim surroundings.
The beastfolk woman, however, was not as impressed. Her voice remained sharp as she replied, "And what brings someone of noble birth to such a wretched place? Especially reeking of blood?"
Caron smirked at the contrasting reactions between the two. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "What if I told you... I'm offering you a chance for revenge?"
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend", as the saying went. Caron extended his hand to these new potential allies, ready to make his move.