Chapter 17: What Is a Surprise?
"…We submit."
"You stole my property," Rhodes replied evenly. "You have no standing to negotiate."
"If you seek forgiveness, come out and surrender."
He did not soften simply because they had lowered their tone.
In the northern wilderness, compromise was often mistaken for weakness.
A lord could choose mercy. But he could not appear pressured into it.
At last, seven hunters stepped out from the innermost cabin, Renn among them.
Rhodes gave a small gesture. Soldiers moved in swiftly, disarming them.
Durant entered the cabin to search it. As expected, he discovered a hidden passage beneath the cellar—an escape tunnel leading beyond the village perimeter.
Had their families not already been captured, the hunters would have fled through it.
Rhodes made a mental note.
Secret passages were valuable things.
One day, his castle would have several.
"You have our surrender," Renn said stiffly. "There is no need to treat us like criminals."
"This," Rhodes replied calmly, "is precisely how criminals are treated."
He regarded them steadily.
"As punishment, all your property is confiscated. You will serve in labor for five years. You will receive food and shelter."
"After five years, based on your conduct, you will regain your freedom and become citizens of Frostleaf Town."
Renn exchanged glances with the others.
"We accept. But we are hunters. We do not farm."
"I will make use of your skills appropriately," Rhodes said.
For now, he had no intention of developing the depths of the Blackrock Mountains. What he wanted was iron ore.
A few workers could remain stationed here. Most would be relocated to Frostleaf Town, whose farmland and surrounding terrain could support a far larger population.
Those who had surrendered early were punished more lightly—Rhodes confiscated eighty percent of their property.
As night fell, the village gradually settled.
Following Rhodes' orders, Durant organized the treatment of the wounded. Soldiers oversaw cooking preparations. After a full day of marching and fighting, everyone was hungry.
Meanwhile, Rhodes walked through the village, inspecting his gains.
The Blackrock settlers were wealthier than he expected.
Their storage huts were packed with cured meat, dried mushrooms, wild vegetables, fruits, and nuts.
He even discovered a large jar of honey.
In the northern wilderness, where sugar was scarce, honey was precious.
What pleased him most was the ore stacked beneath a wooden shelter.
He estimated at least three thousand jin in weight.
There were also more than ninety animal hides—mostly wolf and deer.
Grain, however, was scarce. Less than five hundred jin of rye remained. Even with rationing, it would not last long.
"My Lord Baron, I trusted you," Marcus Silverdove's voice cut in sharply. "And you used me."
Rhodes turned slowly.
"Is your head filled with wax?" he asked mildly. "Or was it misplaced elsewhere?"
Marcus blinked, stunned.
"They illegally occupied my land. Mined my ore. Hunted my game. Seized my property like bandits. I mobilized soldiers during planting season to suppress them."
"And you, my friend, traded with them."
Rhodes' tone remained calm, but it carried weight.
"Yet I did not accuse you. I welcomed you warmly."
"We used your caravan to reclaim my territory."
He looked directly at Marcus.
"Tell me. Where did I go too far?"
"Did I extort an extra gold coin from you? Did I seize a single wagon of your goods?"
His voice was not loud—but it carried.
Work ceased. Even the villagers listened.
A noble sent north to a barren frontier. Forced to reclaim what was legally his.
Was that tyranny?
Marcus lowered his eyes.
"I spoke rashly. I apologize."
He paused.
"I did not know they defied you. Had I known, I would not have traded here."
"That," Rhodes replied, "is why I do not hold you accountable."
His expression softened slightly.
"Our trade continues. I can sell you hides, herbs, cured meat, mushrooms."
Not the ore.
That remained strategic.
"You are generous, Your Excellency," Marcus said with visible relief.
He hesitated.
"Then… may I ask that you not punish them excessively?"
Rhodes exhaled lightly.
"Did I not just outline their punishment? Five years of labor, then citizenship."
He waved a hand.
"You may tell them yourself."
Marcus nodded gratefully.
"And our friendship?"
"Unchanged," Rhodes replied without hesitation. "Provided you remember the slaves you promised."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
Merchants were lifelines in a frontier territory.
Rhodes still valued Marcus Silverdove.
"As promised," Marcus said confidently. "Next time, I'll bring you strong laborers."
Then he leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"There's something here you'll appreciate."
Rhodes raised a brow.
"A surprise?"
"Come. You'll see soon anyway."
Marcus turned toward the hut where the wyvern eggs were stored. Rhodes followed.
Then—
A deep, thunderous roar split the night.
It rolled down from the mountains like collapsing stone.
Rhodes stopped instantly.
Under the pale moonlight, a vast shadow circled above the ridgeline.
Wings.
Massive.
Black.
Slowly descending toward the village.
Rhodes did not look at Marcus.
His voice was perfectly calm.
"Marcus."
A beat of silence.
"Is this your surprise?"
(End of Chapter)