Yesterday afternoon, Tagger's bewitchment of Viscount Timba played a great role. In the evening, the news of Viscount Timba receiving the decree of His Majesty King Luther III to reward and reorganize the Shame Corps spread throughout King's City. The people of the Shame Corps were overjoyed, while the soldiers of the City Defense Force and the Royal Guard Corps who stayed behind were filled with jealousy and hatred.
The next day, it was even livelier. Barrels of ale, small jars of potatoi, and slices of beef, mutton, and pork from various pubs in King's City were transported into the Royal Guard Corps' camp and piled up like a mountain. Tagger also ordered Cherwa, Dore, and the others to requisition the cooks of the pubs and purchase all kinds of banquet supplies such as fruits and vegetables in preparation for a big banquet in the evening.
Thanks to the great news that Viscount Timba was going to reward the soldiers of the Shame Corps with wine and meat, the number of people who joined the army today reached as many as seven hundred. This news made Luther III very satisfied. As long as this number continued for four or five days, the Shame Corps would be full.
Viscount Timba was also very happy. He got five thousand gold coins from his brother-in-law, Luther III, but he only gave Tagger a thousand gold coins. He requested Tagger to prepare three portions of meat and wine as a reward, and gave Tagger a warrant to act at his discretion.
Tagger did not disappoint him. He spent a little money to establish a relationship with the managers of the West District's material warehouse. Then, he took out a large amount of coarse grains from the warehouse and ordered the cooks to make a large amount of coarse grain bread. He also bought a lot of salted fish. By five o 'clock in the afternoon, all the preparation work had been completed. The entire Royal Guard Corps' camp was immersed in a cheerful banquet atmosphere.
As the protagonist of the reward for the Shame Corps, Viscount Timba naturally came here to inspect in person. He also had to toast to all the soldiers to boost their morale, and announce the rewards for meritorious service and the strict military discipline that would be implemented soon. However, Viscount Timba's mind wasn't on these trivial matters. He carefully looked at the rewards that the soldiers received and discovered that every soldier received a portion of roasted or braised meat, a portion of fruit and vegetable salad, a steamed dried salted fish, a catty of roasted potatoes, and a cup of ale. As for coarse grain bread, he couldn't help but frown when he saw how much they could eat.
Tagger thought that Viscount Timba was dissatisfied with the amount and weight of the reward. Just as he was about to explain, he was pulled aside by Viscount Timba and scolded harshly. This was because Viscount Timba felt that the rewards were too much. Why would he want fruits and vegetables? Why would he want salted fish? Wouldn't it be a waste of so much coarse grain bread? If he was strict, he could cut the amount of meat in half. As for the potato stew, he should add more water to it. That way, one serving could be made into two or even three …
Viscount Timba said to Tagger resentfully that if he let his butler do it, he could save at least four or five hundred gold coins from the one thousand gold coins. It would be a pity to waste it on these coarse grains. Looking at the back of Viscount Timba's carriage that left angrily, Tagger felt that his impression of these great slave owners and nobles had once again been refreshed. He shook his head with a wry smile. The reward of wine and meat for more than twenty thousand people was not a small amount like what he said to Viscount Timba. He had already filled in the one thousand gold coins and spent more than four hundred gold coins of the family's funds. After all, this was the last feast of the soldiers of the "Shame Corps", so he had to let them eat better, right?
Since the evening, the gate of the imperial guard corps' camp had been tightly closed. However, there were still many soldiers of the city defense force who entered the camp through their good friends. Tagger didn't care and ordered them to drink freely. Anyway, there was plenty of wine. They drank until about ten o 'clock in the evening. The noisy camp finally calmed down gradually. Almost most of the soldiers were drunk and had fallen asleep. No one was on sentry, no one was on guard, and no one was on duty. Being in King's City, no one had the slightest vigilance.
The slave gladiators who had been waiting for a day set out under Laurist's lead. Ayer opened the back door of the imperial guard corps' camp, and a feast of slaughter was waiting for these red-eyed slave gladiators.
Blood flowed inch by inch over the ground beside their feet. This was truly a river of blood, and there were corpses everywhere …
An hour ago, this place was still a bustling carnival venue, but at this moment, it had become a slaughterhouse. The people who were drunk lost their lives in a joyful mood.
The sound of vomiting came from behind. Even the slave gladiators who swore that they would pay blood for blood and show no mercy became more and more hesitant in this silent slaughter. They even felt nauseous and wanted to vomit.
Killing an enemy in a drunken dream was very simple. As long as the longsword was placed at the junction of the enemy's shoulder blade and throat and pressed down diagonally, it was guaranteed that the enemy would die quickly and painlessly. However, when you were asked to kill twenty people in one go, or even more, then even the slave gladiators who claimed to be the most iron-blooded began to soften …
These were human lives, and not chickens being slaughtered. Even if these drunk people on the ground were the slave catchers and the cruel mercenaries that the slave gladiators hated the most, they were as defenseless as babies in front of the slave gladiators who were holding swords, even though they were snoring and had idiotic smiles on their faces while they were sleeping, they were as helpless as babies in front of the slave gladiators who were holding swords.
"This is murder, not a battle …" Finally, a slave gladiator threw away the longsword in his hand and knelt on the bloody muddy ground. "I'd rather fight them face to face than take their lives silently like this …"
"Because you see yourself as a warrior, that's why you think this way." Laurist appeared beside this slave gladiator. His low voice was not loud, but it clearly reached the ears of over a thousand slave gladiators. "But you're wrong. The ones who are drunk on the ground now are not innocent people, but beasts whose hands are stained with blood. They carry the souls of countless old, weak, women, and children on their backs. Think about how they charged into a peaceful village, how they killed others, and how they stole the freedom of others. In their eyes, you are not of the same kind, but two-legged cattle that brought them wealth …
Think about your family and companions that died in their hands, think about how you and your companions killed each other in the Gladiator Arena, but it became a performance for these beasts to laugh at. Will you still be soft-hearted? Pick up your longsword. As a warrior, your responsibility is to fight for yourself and your companions. These people on the ground are just beasts in human skin. Every time you kill one, the innocent people will be safer … "
The slave gladiator who had thrown away his longsword picked up his longsword in shame, and the soundless killing continued …
"Those in front, move faster …" An anxious urging voice came from behind, as if deeply dissatisfied with the hesitation and slowness of the thousand slave gladiators who were playing the role of executioners. Nearly a hundred Norton Family soldiers wearing the bronze breastplates of the Royal Guards stepped out from the crowd. Without the bronze helmets, their faces were expressionless, like cold puppets. With a swing of their longswords, the drunkards on the ground lost their lives in droves.
The silver moon above seemed to be unable to bear to watch the slaughter taking place in front of her, so it hid behind a thin layer of clouds. The dim red crescent of the blood moon in the sky became brighter and brighter.
They had only cleared one-third of the camp, but more than an hour had passed. No wonder Fatty Shi, who was at the back, was so anxious. He was in charge of leading more than two thousand young slaves to move the granary and armory behind the camp. He also had to prepare to strip the better equipment and armor from the corpses on the ground. What he was most worried about was alerting the enemies in the camp and causing them to fall into a chaotic battle, which would cause his plan to fail.
These two thousand young slaves were the result of his hard work last night. Behind the Gladiator Arena was the shack area where the slaves lived. The homes of the five to six hundred slaves who worked in the Gladiator Arena were located there. However, the slave area was under the surveillance of the northern city wall. Standing on the city wall, one could see everything that was happening in the slave area.
However, this was not a problem for Fatty Shi. He sent a few trustworthy slaves to bring the disguised golden gladiators, Giros and Mason, into the slave area. After that, he found the location of the sewer and dug a tunnel from the top to the bottom of a hidden shack. Then, he secretly transferred more than 3,000 slaves nearby to the underground prison, preparing enough labor for the next transport task.
Laurist wandered around the camp, swinging the longsword in his hand casually. From time to time, the tip of the sword would explode with starlight and sink into the throats and foreheads of the drunken soldiers on the ground. In a short while, Laurist's longsword had reaped nearly a hundred lives.
Laurist did not feel any pressure killing these drunkards. It was just like playing a game in his previous life. He felt that these were all NPCs, so it was not a big deal to kill them. What he didn't realize was that Lollister's eyes had become redder and redder, and they reeked of blood. It was a chilling sight, and he felt as if everything in front of him had been covered by a layer of blood-red gauze …
Laurist stood still. At this moment, his thoughts and spiritual senses spread in all directions like mercury, quickly occupying the entire Praetorian Army's camp. At the front of the camp, there were one to two hundred people who were not drunk yet roasting a goat around a bonfire. A few people in the barracks to the left were wiping their bodies and preparing to sleep. At the stove to the right, a dozen cooks were preparing a sumptuous supper for themselves. Beside the stove, there were two slaves secretly taking a bone and wolfing down the old, tough, and charred meat.
Strange, why did this feel so similar to when he had driven the Flying Fish of the Kingdom of Dawn to escape from the Chikede Merchant Association's fleet at Hidden Gold Bay and killed 300 people on that ship? It was as if everything was under his control, and he even knew what those people were about to do. However, at that time, he was in a daze. Although he knew that he was killing people, his consciousness could not control his body like now.
Laurist squatted down, stood up, extended his hand, bent his waist, lowered his head, turned his body sideways, and finally stretched out his fingers to grab at the air a few times. He was sure that he could easily control his body's every movement. Yes, he remembered that he had encountered true danger on the ship. More than 300 people had swarmed him, and he had nowhere to retreat under their blades. That was why he was forced into that blood-red world. But now, it was just an easy massacre. How did he end up in this strange blood-red world? And why did he feel so clear-headed and at ease?
Laurist did not bother thinking about things that he could not understand. Since he had entered this blood-red world, he should not waste it. Laurist bowed, and like a wisp of smoke, he suddenly disappeared from where he stood. When he reappeared, he was already at the campfire at the very front of the camp. His body turned, and cold stars shot out in all directions. The two hundred or so people who were roasting mutton and drinking ale suddenly froze, and then fell to the ground one after another. One of them spilled the ale in his hand onto the campfire as he fell, and a flame sprang up high …
One of the dozen or so chefs looked up, and just happened to see the scene of people falling to the ground. His expression became extremely shocked, and just as he was about to scream, a figure suddenly appeared in front of him. A cold longsword was stabbed into his mouth, and the tip of the sword came out from the back of his head.
After taking care of these dozen or so chefs, Laurist remembered that there were still two people alive at the stove. His figure flashed, and he appeared next to the stove. He poked his head out, and saw the two bony slaves with whip marks all over their bodies hiding in the innermost area, happily gnawing on a bone. Their left shoulders still had the mark of a slave.
Laurist swept his longsword horizontally, and lightly tapped the back of the heads of the two slaves. The two slaves hugged their bones and fainted. This was a helpless move. If he wanted to save them, he had to first knock them unconscious and take them away from here. Otherwise, if he let them see the corpses strewn all over the ground and the merciless massacre, there would only be two consequences. One, they would go crazy from fright, and the other, they would scream in fright. That would add a lot of trouble to Laurist …
The massacre finally ended at two in the morning. Laurist had already retreated from the blood-red world. This time, he did not fall to the ground and sleep for a few days like the last time. However, his face was a little pale, and he felt very tired mentally. He could only hold on as he watched his family's soldiers vomit as they stripped the leather armor and equipment from the corpses on the ground.
The slave swordsman Seuss came to Laurist's side, his face also very pale.
"Very tired?"
Seuss shook his head. "I don't feel tired physically, but I don't feel happy when I see the corpses strewn all over the ground. I don't know why, but I don't feel any joy from taking revenge after killing so many members of the slave hunters that I hate. I even feel a little tired …"
Laurist laughed dryly. "Yes, we killed more than twenty thousand with just a thousand people. This is an amazing achievement, and we didn't even lose a single person. However, none of the enemies could fight back, which makes us feel like we had an unfair advantage. Also, we are warriors, not butchers. Many people can't stand this kind of massacre. Why don't you bring the slave gladiators back first? The massacre tonight was a great stimulus for them … "
Following the direction of Laurist's finger, most of the slave gladiators were paralyzed on the ground, not making a sound. A few of them were even leaning against each other and crying silently …
Seuss looked at the Norton Family's soldiers and could not help but sigh. "My lord, your family's armed forces are really elite. They are very strong and well-trained. The massacre just now did not affect them at all."
"Because they firmly believe that what they did was right," Laurist said proudly. "Killing these beasts is like killing the magical beasts that invade our family's territory. The more we kill, the safer they will be for their families and the beautiful lives they want to protect. The Norton Family never feels sad for our enemies, because only a dead enemy is the best enemy …"
"Yes, only a dead enemy is the best enemy. Lord Locke, these words are so domineering!" Greatsword Seuss praised.
"That's what we did." Laurist smiled faintly. "Let's go to the back and see how many things Shredder and the others have moved back."
"Right, you two, come here. There are two slaves beside the stove. I knocked them unconscious. Bring them to the arena."
"Yes, my lord."
… …
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