Village Head's Debauchery - Chapter 1052: Mass Execution
The warriors dragged ten nobles up to the stage, and their cries of desperation filled the air. “Please, spare us!” one noble, a Dragmin, wailed, collapsing to his knees. His head was bowed on the hallowed space of the platform, and his bound hands were clasped in frantic prayer. “We can make amends!… Please!!”
Another Dragmin noble stumbled forward, his face contorted with fear. “It wasn’t our fault! We were just following orders! Please, you must understand! We have families who need us!”
“This is insane! Surely we can negotiate something in exchange for our lives!” shouted another noble, his once fine robe dishevelled as he tried to cling to even a shred of dignity, his voice trembling with fear.
A younger noble, appearing to be a young man, cried out in panic, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t know what’s going on! I had no part in this-please don’t kill me!”
An older Dragmin noblewoman clutched desperately at the warriors’ feet, her once regal demeanour now twisted with terror. “I beg you, show mercy! I’m too old to flee or fight! I’m not a threat to you! Please, let me live!”
As the nobles were dragged to the stage one by one, their pleas grew more desperate. Some choked on their sobs, while others spoke incoherently, struggling to find the right words to ensure their survival.
“I’ll swear my loyalty to you! Just let me live!”
“We were deceived by our clan elders!”
“Please think about the children! They are innocent!”
Yet, the voices of the crowd grew even louder.
JUSTICE!! JUSTICE!! JUSTICE!!
Recognizing that actions spoke louder than words in such a moment, Seth took a sharpened cutlass from a warrior and brought it down decisively on the nobleman before him.
Swish!!
Thud!!
As the nobleman’s head tumbled to the edge of the stage before coming to a halt, the crowd cheered again. Meanwhile, the remaining nobles’ cries dwindled to desperate whimpers, their pleas falling on deaf ears.
Swish!!
Thud!!
After dispatching all ten nobles, Seth handed the cutlass to Orion and moved to the other end of the stage. The bodies were quickly discarded and replaced with new ones.
Orion proceeded to behead another set of nobles one by one before handing the cutlass to a warrior and returning to stand beside Seth.
With their Key Leaders setting the example, the warriors wasted no time. Each took their place at one of the ten platforms, wielding their cutlasses to swiftly execute the nobles. Others efficiently managed the process of bringing the nobles up to the stage and disposing of their bodies.
After several hours, the entire House of Arickhan was executed, their heads rolling across the stage. Next, the House of Solon, consisting of the Aarakocras, was brought up individually. The nobility of the Trekking Flamingo Runaway City, drawn from the three major races, stood apart from the ordinary inhabitants due to their purer bloodlines and the exceptional Techniques and Arts that defined their Houses.
To Orion, these techniques and arts were of little value; they were merely tools to establish a new noble household, which he would use to assess their potential and devotion to Paradise before sharing higher-ranked arts and techniques with them.
As the hours passed, blood began to pool on the stage, seeping down and flowing towards the crowd. At first, the spectators trampled over the crimson tide, venting their anger. But their enthusiasm waned as the pool expanded and the blood approached their feet.
Their voices grew quieter, and they retreated several steps, unnerved by the spreading sea of blood.
The entire crowd soon fell into a tense silence. The only sounds piercing the air were the sharp swish of cutlasses as they swung down, the heads of the nobles tumbling to the ground.
The House of Solon!
The House of Fieradol!
The House of Vielodor!
The House of…!!
After five and a half hours, the scene was suffused with the thick stench of blood as each household met its end. The blood pooled on the ground had risen so high that moving through it splashed it up to their upper legs.
As an additional six hours passed, the clouds began to glow with a bright morning orange hue, indicating the approaching sunrise. The area was soon illuminated, casting a light on the gruesome stage and the surrounding slaughter, revealing the full extent of the night’s horrors to everyone present.
Even Orion, Seth, and the warriors were momentarily moved by the scene around them, but they did not falter in their tasks. Undeterred, other warriors stepped in and continued the grim task.
It wasn’t until another six and a half hours had passed that the last of the nobles drew their final breath.
Instead of cheers of excitement, the Trekking Flamingo Runaway City inhabitants stared at the warriors with eyes filled with fear, holding their breaths as though afraid to make a sound.
Though their faces were hidden, their actions were methodical, each warrior taking their turn as if completing a routine task rather than participating in the slaughter of an entire ruling class. They had asked for blood; however, the bloodshed was far greater than anyone had imagined, and it left the onlookers stunned.
Such ruthlessness!
The crowd couldn’t help but wonder: if Paradise could efficiently dispatch such formidable warriors to deal with the nobles, what would stop them from doing the same to anyone who stood in their way? They couldn’t help but gulp at the thought.
However, not everyone in the crowd shared this worry.
“NO MORE LEADERS!! NO MORE NOBLES!! ONLY PARADISE!!” shouted several voices from the crowd, their fervour breaking through the stifling silence.
Paradise had already clarified what was expected: total submission and devotion in exchange for a vastly improved livelihood. So why should they be afraid?
Unless they were plotting a rebellion, none were foolish enough to do so, especially not after witnessing the events unfolding before them.
On stage,
Orion focused on a warrior. “Bring the former leaders of the Trekking Flamingo Runaway City. Let’s begin with the former Commander Edmar,” he said.