Disaster struck once again in Ambratu, the northernmost town on the Soqya Peninsula.
Although peace and tranquility were already luxuries in this calamity-ridden era, this particular disaster in Ambratu was somewhat unique. It did not originate from a foreign invasion, nor from the wolfish ambition of a few, but from the very foundation of the city—from two groups of people who could no longer coexist.
It was as if, overnight, Ambratu had reverted to barbarism. Avery's act of beating a merchant to death on the street was like a tiny spark falling into a pile of gunpowder, instantly blowing the entire city apart.
In every street and alley, people were killing one another. Smashing, looting, burning, raping, and kidnapping were everywhere. The air was filled with roaring, cursing, and wailing...
The former freedmen, having retrieved a large number of swords, shields, and bucklers from unknown sources, launched a slaughter against the former citizens. The former citizens, in turn, countered with the discipline and skills they had honed during their time as citizen-soldiers. Both sides killed until their eyes were red with bloodlust; both sides felt the other intended to wipe them out completely.
"My Lord, My Lord, the streets are in chaos! You cannot go out!"
The servants united to hold back John Rice, who had just rushed out of the manor's doors, trying hard to persuade him.
"If I don't go out, Ambratu is finished!"
John Rice struggled, screaming himself hoarse. He only regretted that he had gone out too late. If he had stepped forward immediately when those citizens first blocked the entrance to the Governor's Mansion, perhaps the situation would not have evolved to this point?
"Everyone inside and outside the city has gone mad! It won't do any good for you to go out now!"
These servants belonged to the Governor's Mansion; they served whoever the Governor was. Whether Ambratu was finished or not had little to do with them, but if something happened to the Governor, they would definitely be finished.
"Ahhh! Spare me! Please! I was really forced to remarry! Spare me..."
A scream rang out not far away.
John Rice followed the sound and saw a woman with disheveled hair, stark naked, being dragged into the street by her hair by several men.
The woman cried in terror, begging them to spare her life.
However, one man still raised the hatchet in his hand and chopped off the woman's head.
His companion picked up the woman's head, holding it high and letting out strange howls. The blood dripping from the head was as crimson as their eyes.
"Mad... they've gone mad... everyone is mad..." John Rice murmured.
Seeing this, the servants were even more terrified. Taking advantage of John Rice's daze, they hurriedly dragged the Lord Governor back into the mansion and slammed the gates shut.
Jarrod Garcia stood atop the east gate of Ambratu, gazing at a small group of former citizens brandishing crude weapons and rampaging through the city, leaving a trail of severed limbs and broken bodies in their wake.
"Knight Garcia, the Kane Manor has been breached. The owner's family was subjected to Impalement and the 'Hang-and-Wind' punishment," a squire knight who had just returned from a manor outside the city reported to Jarrod Garcia.
The so-called Impalement involved sharpening one end of a wrist-thick wooden stake into a blunt point, then slowly inserting it into the victim's anus until it pierced through and exited from the throat.
The so-called 'Hang-and-Wind' involved first suspending the victim, then cutting off their genitals and throwing them into a fire to burn. Next, an opening was made in the lower abdomen to extract the tip of the intestine, which was then tied to a winch. The winch was then turned to slowly pull the victim's internal organs out, bit by bit.
The Kane Manor was a property of the Kane family, former dignitaries of the city-state, which was later confiscated and sold off by Jonathan Hackman. Those attacking the manor now were inevitably the former city-state citizens, and those tortured to death were naturally the former city-state freedmen.
"We've only been guarding for a short while... the combat power on the citizens' side is still relatively strong," Jarrod clicked his tongue involuntarily.
The former citizens of Ambratu had to undergo military training from a young age—although not as rigorously perverted as the Delmore citizens, they at least knew how to use weapons correctly, how to cooperate on the battlefield, and possessed more extraordinary power.
On the other hand, although the former freedmen had the advantage in numbers, they had basically never been on a battlefield, and the number of Extraordinaries among them was inferior. Their strength naturally appeared much weaker.
Then, just as Jarrod Garcia was remarking on the inferior combat power of the former freedmen, the small group of former citizens he was watching ran headlong into a group of slaves in ragged clothes but armed with sharp armor and weapons. The two sides immediately clashed without a word. Surprisingly, several Extraordinaries appeared among those slaves. The situation instantly became one-sided, and the group of former citizens was killed and routed in the blink of an eye.
Jarrod Garcia immediately felt his judgment had been wrong; these former freedmen were not to be trifled with either.
"Knight Garcia," another squire knight came to report, "Large numbers of rioting slaves have appeared both inside and outside the city. They possess high-quality weapons."
"I saw," Jarrod Garcia replied calmly.
"This..." a knight said hesitantly, "The situation in Ambratu is completely out of control. Do we not need to intervene?"
"Have the rioting slaves broken into the Governor's Mansion?" Jarrod asked.
"Uh... no," the knight shook his head.
"Have the rioting slaves attacked the Public Treasury?" Jarrod asked again.
"No," the knight shook his head again.
"Then no matter how many people die in Ambratu, it's none of my damn business," Jarrod Garcia replied indifferently, crossing his arms.
The knights and squires behind Jarrod could not help but criticize him silently in their hearts. Truly worthy of the name 'Bloodhound'; even with the brains of former citizens and former freedmen splattering everywhere, Knight Garcia could still maintain this attitude of watching a play.
In truth, with the riots and slaughter reaching this extent, the identity of citizen or freedman no longer mattered.
After the group of rioting slaves Jarrod saw finished slaughtering the former citizens, they immediately smashed open the nearby shops and houses. Then, even more heart-wrenching wails began to drift out from those buildings.
The instigator of this riot, the citizen-soldier Avery, led his companions in slaughtering several households in succession before smashing open another residence.
"Wait! Wait! Show mercy! Citizens!" A fair-faced, pot-bellied middle-aged man raised his hands, blocking Avery and the others. Shielding his family behind him, he shouted, "I am also a citizen! I am also a citizen of Ambratu!"
"You are also a citizen? How can you live so well if you are a citizen?" Bill asked.
Avery and Bill's companions also looked at this middle-aged man with suspicion. Every one of them, having just finished hard labor, looked dark and thin, a stark contrast to this man.
"I am a cripple..." The middle-aged man rolled up his pant leg and took off his shoe, revealing his right foot. Indeed, there was only half a foot left. He said with a bitter smile, "I was injured when the City-State conscripted me to fight on the Alliance front lines. I was left with only half a foot and couldn't do any physical labor. Fortunately, the Viscount exempted me from labor service, so I didn't suffer much..."
As a citizen-soldier who had gone on multiple expeditions to the Alliance front lines, Avery inevitably felt a sense of mutual sympathy upon hearing the middle-aged man's experience. The short sword in his hand lowered involuntarily. However, a young citizen behind him suddenly rushed out, swinging a machete and slashing the middle-aged man on the neck.
Because the force was insufficient, this strike failed to kill him instantly. The middle-aged man fell to the ground, clutching his bleeding neck, wheezing and struggling.
"Pah! He actually called that bitch 'Viscount'! I say even if you really are a citizen, you must be a traitor like Jonathan and John Rice!"
The former citizen who swung the blade spat hatefully.
The other former citizens came to a sudden realization, the hatred in their eyes intensifying. Avery also felt his companion's words made sense; if he hadn't been a traitor, how could he have lived a stable life under Jonathan Hackman's rule?
These rioting former citizens did not deliver the finishing blow to the middle-aged man. Instead, they left him to watch as his wife and daughter were raped and killed, and his young son was stuffed into the stove to be burned to death. Because the stove was too small, the young child was only half-charred.
In his final moments, the middle-aged man wailed, crying and begging these former compatriots to look at the short spear and shield on the wall. He had once held those very items to die for the City-State, but... no one paid him any heed.
"Hang him up there. Hang him up there."
One former citizen pointed to a hook on the eaves used for drying cured meat and made a suggestion.
The others thought it was a good idea, so they hung the middle-aged man's young son on it.
The iron hook pierced through the boy's lower abdomen. The half-black, half-white corpse of the child swayed in the wind like a flag demanding a life.
After doing all this, Avery paid no attention to the middle-aged man who had already ceased breathing and hurriedly followed his companions to the next house.
After venting through unrestrained slaughter, destruction, and rape, Avery felt a long-lost pleasure, a carefree exhilaration. Singing the triumphant songs of the citizen-soldier era and cursing the former freedmen, Jonathan Hackman, and the despicable shamelessness of the Viscount of Lanwan, he and his companions continued to spread the black flames of hell across the land of Ambratu.
In this atmosphere where fervor and madness were indistinguishable, Avery followed his companions to Hardwood Street.
Suddenly, Avery noticed a group of people gathered in front of his own house—no, what should be called the house that was once Avery's. Like Avery and his group, they held swords dripping with fresh blood.
"Avery, you're here!" The other party also noticed Avery's arrival.
"You guys are..." Avery had a premonition.
"We helped you kill that slut and that lowly freedman she remarried." A familiar-looking former citizen smiled and held up the objects in his hand to Avery—two heads.
"Winna..."
Avery recognized one of the heads; it belonged to his former wife and lover.
Was he happy?
Was he sad?
Avery didn't know what his mood was. He just stood there, dazed.
In that moment, the last shred of what could be called humanity in Avery's heart shattered.
Soqya Peninsula, Fedi City-State.
"How confident are you in holding Fedi?" Agostino, the Chief Elder of the Fedi Senate, asked Urbano, who was directing slaves to reinforce the city walls.
Urbano, the current Commander of Fedi's City Defense, shrugged and said, "Don't worry. I will take the old, weak, and disabled soldiers in the city with their broken legs and arms, and defeat the Delmore elite."
"Urbano, this is not the time to joke with you."
Agostino was speechless at his old partner who loved to crack jokes.
"Oh, so you aren't here to joke with me," Urbano stroked the bushy beard on his chin and said, "Seeing as you still haven't replenished my troops by today, yet you come asking how confident I am in holding Fedi, I thought you were here to joke with me."
"Conscription is not going smoothly," Agostino smiled bitterly. "Many city-states don't want to send us citizen-soldiers anymore. The latest reinforcement unit will likely arrive the day after tomorrow, but there should only be two thousand men."
"That is normal," Urbano was not surprised by this answer. "Blanco buried almost all the elite forces of the Ivy Alliance in one breath. It would be strange if our allies were still willing to hand over all their remaining citizen-soldiers to our command. But... if your conscription speed is any slower, Wisdom will really be able to walk into Fedi as a guest without any effort."
Wisdom was the King of the Delmore City-State. Correct, although Delmore was a city-state, it had kings, and two of them. The other king was named Fassbinder.
"The Delmore people are suppressing a rebellion..." Agostino harbored a sliver of wishful thinking.
"Our opponents are most skilled at suppressing rebellions. Every year, they are either suppressing a rebellion or on their way to prepare for one. A mere rebellion won't hinder their march of conquest at all," Urbano poured a bucket of cold water on Agostino.
Agostino couldn't help but feel irritable. He frowned and said, "What else can I do? I have already spared no expense, offering remuneration far exceeding that of mercenaries to conscript citizen-soldiers, but our allies still drag their feet. They are unwilling to lend a hand in our time of crisis and even demand high death benefits from us."
"Heh," Urbano laughed and said, "I said long ago that things like war taxes could have been abolished ages ago, but none of you listened to me. Now look, we have to pay the money back."
Although Fedi had been at war for years, it still did not lack money. This was because it collected a large sum of war tax from its allies every year. This heavy tax burden was also a major reason why the allies were becoming increasingly estranged from Fedi.
Agostino felt Urbano's words were inappropriate and was about to retort when Urbano interrupted him again.
"Rather than paying back the war taxes, why not give that money to me?" Urbano said with a smile. "I might be able to use it to help lift the siege of Fedi."
"Oh? What plan do you have?" Agostino asked in confusion.
"I heard that the Delmore people worship divine oracles immensely, and Wisdom spends a considerable amount of money and time begging God for protection and oracles before every war." Urbano pointed toward the Cathedral of Angels in the southeast. "Perhaps we can spend some money to let God put in a good word for us. Maybe the Delmore people will just withdraw their troops?"
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