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A man from Hols crept toward the outside of the house. He trembled with sheer terror, like a wild deer whose courage had been shattered. He was constantly afraid that danger might spring up from somewhere at any moment. With almost neurotic vigilance, he swiveled his wide-open eyes left and right, scanning his surroundings. Even the slightest rustle of grass was enough to make him fling himself flat to the ground.
Despite his overwhelming fear, he did not stop advancing or try to find a place to hide. Instead, he forced himself to slowly grope his way forward through waist-high grass, occasionally lifting his head with extreme caution to look around.
The coarse linen clothes on his body were stained black with mud. The fabric at his knees was so worn that it had torn, exposing bloody skin. His fingers, constantly clawing through the grass, were cut and bleeding wherever they were not protected by thick calluses.
He advanced with great difficulty and stopped cautiously after every short distance solely because of the terrifying sound of armor grinding all around him.
Those soldiers, clad head to toe in iron-scaled armor, surrounded the village in the blink of an eye. No one could escape beneath the iron hooves of those dreadful warhorses. Everyone was easily herded into the village's central threshing ground.
Although the cavalrymen had not begun to slaughter indiscriminately, the bloodstained iron maces and sabers in their hands terrified everyone. Even the warhorses seemed to have turned into bloodthirsty monsters, occasionally surging forward in a fit of rage, as if about to charge the villagers.
Once everyone had been gathered, a tall man told the village chief that no one would be harmed and no unnecessary blood would be shed as long as they remained there. All the grain they took would be exchanged for goods of equivalent value. Although this place was somewhat far from the nearest town, the money they provided would allow the villagers to obtain more food.
Seeing that the other party was reasonable, the villagers became less afraid. Although the Imperial soldiers looked fierce, they did not seem intent on killing the villagers at that moment. Otherwise, wouldn't it have been easier to simply slaughter everyone and search house by house for grain?
Thus, the villagers remained obediently in the village’s central threshing ground. Each time a soldier brought a sack of grain, the tall man tossed a silver coin into the village chief’s hand. That single coin could buy at least one and a half sacks of grain at the market. In any case, the villagers were coming out ahead.
However, the man could not stay quietly with the others. Although the soldiers had seized him at the beginning and thrown him into the threshing ground, his wife was in labor, giving birth to their child. Later, he still had not seen her in the crowd.
Overcome with worry, the man took advantage of a moment when the guard looked away. He slipped into the waist-high grass, relying on his hunting skills to make a quiet escape like a cunning viper.
He knew he was doing something foolish. According to the soldiers, if even one person was missing from the gathering, someone would end up bleeding. Yet, he could not abandon his wife.
He just wanted to make sure she was safe. If she and his child. Whose sex he did not yet know were both safe, he would return immediately. With three or four hundred people gathered in the center of the village, the absence of one or two individuals would be difficult to notice. As long as he got back before they noticed, there would be no problem.
However, no matter how he looked at it, he was putting everyone else in the village at risk. He knew that doing this would surely make everyone despise him. Yet, he had to do it. In his eyes, the lives of his wife and child were more important than anything else, even his own life.
Thus, he made his way back to his house. Since all the soldiers were concentrated in the village center, he went unnoticed. He pressed himself against the mud-and-branch wall of his home and quietly peered inside.
Then, a pair of eyes as sharp as an eagle’s appeared before him. The intense killing intent and willpower in those eyes instantly made his legs go weak. He couldn’t help but let out a startled cry.
Fully armed cavalrymen appeared at the corner in the blink of an eye. Before he could rise, a powerful hand seized his shoulder. He was dragged into the house as easily as a quail.
"Healer, do you know this man?"
Tesolus regarded the spying man with keen interest. He had just been about to snap the thin branches covering the window with his bare hands and drag the intruder inside. However, considering the precarious state of the dilapidated house, he abandoned that idea and ordered Arka to bring the man in instead.
In a situation like this, anyone bold enough to spy on the commander of this cavalry unit could hardly avoid arousing suspicion that he was a Hols spy.
Tesolus's moral standards were far above those of this era, yet he also had his own principles. If the man before him was truly a spy, Tesolus would execute him without hesitation. He could not risk revealing the location of his troops, at least not yet.
Arka had already drawn his chain hammer from his waist. It was a slender metal rod connected to a palm-length chain. An angular metal hammerhead hung from the end of the chain. Short, blunt spikes protruded from the hammerhead, capable of crushing a human skull like a ripe melon.
Once their general gave the order, Arka wouldn't even blink before killing.
Just as the man trembled like a leaf in the wind, Talina spoke up in time:
"Please spare him, My Lord! This man is just an ordinary hunter from our village. The woman in labor on the bed is his wife. He must have only wanted to return and check on his child. He bears no ill intent! Moreover, he isn't carrying a weapon, which proves he's harmless.”
Tesolus suddenly turned his head.
"Madam, is this truly your husband?"
The woman, now regaining her senses, tightly embraced her child. The infant’s cries rang out once more, causing the man on the ground to shudder. He wanted to turn his head toward the bed, but the terrifying rattling of the chain beside him kept him from making any sudden movements.
Tesolus had been watching the man closely. The moment he saw the man shudder slightly, he had already reached his conclusion. He waved his hand, signaling for Arka to put away his weapon.
"Your courage and recklessness both surprise me. You must have heard what I said earlier at the threshing ground, so you must have considered the consequences of being caught, right?”
The man’s entire face contorted. His fingers dug into the earth beneath him. His voice was stiff with fear and remorse.
"My Lord, this was my decision alone. It has nothing to do with anyone else. I am willing to accept any punishment as long as you can spare my wife and child. Even after death, I will pray to Effas for your health and well-being.”
Silence suddenly descended upon the room. Tesolus regarded the man before him with an indifferent expression, and the atmosphere grew increasingly perilous. The other three people in the room were trembling.
No matter how approachable this officer had seemed before, it was hard to expect him to show leniency when faced with someone who had clearly violated his orders.
The sound of the saber scraping against its scabbard made everyone’s hair stand on end. The blade was so sharp that it could reflect a clear image and curved slightly. With the momentum of a horse behind it, the blade could easily cleave a person in two, and cutting off a man’s head would be just as effortless.
Intricate, beautiful gold inlays adorned the blade, lending this terrifying instrument of death an almost artistic elegance.
The woman and infant's suppressed sobs rose and fell in the room. The child’s mouth was firmly covered by his mother to prevent him from crying out. She could only gaze at her kneeling husband with eyes full of despair. Beyond that, she could do nothing.
A flash of cold light. Several drops of blood trickled from the tip of the blade. The glinting reflection made the woman in labor scream, but her cry cut off abruptly.
The man stared in shock at the saber slash across his left cheek. The cut was not too deep, and only a little blood flowed just enough to moisten the blade slightly.
The sharp tip of the saber pointed at the man’s forehead.
"My orders cannot be violated. Therefore, I am making you bleed as punishment for your mistake. As a husband who cares for his child, this punishment should be sufficient.”
Tesolus smiled gently as he watched the blood dripping from the tip of his blade.
The man bowed his head deeply, as if he wanted to bury his forehead in the earth.
“Thank you for your mercy! …………”
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