From a distance,
But when he charged toward them, the assembled people merely shuffled aside to open up a path down the middle, then continued standing there with deadened expressions — though a faint change had entered their eyes: curiosity and envy. From the tattered rags wrapped around their naked bodies and the whip scars crisscrossing their skin, it was obvious they were all slaves.
Lorist found it strange. What on earth were the slave owners of Nubit Port doing, herding so many slaves out here at the docks at a time like this?
But Lorist had arrived a touch too late. The garrison troops who had been swaggering around the dock district, throwing their weight around and terrorizing these slaves, had long since fled in panic the moment they saw the enemy bearing down on the docks — armor discarded, weapons abandoned, scrambling and rolling their way into the inner city of Nubit Port, where the gates had just slammed shut.
Soon a wave of heart-rending wailing from the dockside and several columns of black smoke drew Lorist's attention. A large group of women and children — slaves themselves by the look of them — were collapsed on the pier, sobbing bitterly, overcome with grief. Moored alongside the pier were seventeen or eighteen sleek, sharp-prowed galleys, their decks piled high with burlap sacks of supplies — but on a dozen or more of those galleys, the sacks were already ablaze.
Lorist's keen eyes quickly grasped why the women and children were weeping. On either side of those galleys sat rows of oar slaves, their hands and feet shackled with long iron chains, their feet locked beneath the seat in front of them. Beyond sitting in the rowing positions, they couldn't even stand. Watching the sacks burn beside them, they could do nothing but wait helplessly for death to come.
Some of the oar slaves were crying and shedding tears. Others wore expressions of relief. Still others were coughing incessantly, choked by the black smoke. Only at the very front sat a brawny slave — his body covered in wounds, the burning sacks behind him — yet his expression hadn't changed in the slightest. He was calling out to his loved ones on the pier, urging them to be strong, to live on with hope…
Lorist soared through the air like a great bird and alighted upon the burning galley. The moment his feet touched the deck, the heavy stench of oil hit him full in the face. Damn — those sacks had been doused with fire oil, no wonder they were burning so fiercely. Without a moment's hesitation, Lorist used the long pole he'd snatched from the dock to lever and shove the sacks off the galley and into the sea. A burst of elated cheers erupted from the pier behind him.
Several more figures landed on those burning galleys — the Family Knights and soldiers who had rushed up behind him. Spotting Lorist rescuing people, they hurried over to help.
The Family Knights' long swords flashed with white blade-light as they severed the iron chains binding the slaves with ease. The moment the slaves who had barely escaped death set foot back on the pier, they threw themselves into their families' arms, embracing one another tightly…
"My lord, my lord…"
Lorist turned to see the brawny, scarred man from earlier running toward him with two children in tow, both around ten years old. The moment he reached Lorist, the man dropped to his knees and prostrated himself fully on the ground: "Thank you, my lord, for saving our lives…"
Lorist sidestepped to avoid the full prostration: "Rise. You don't need to perform such an extravagant gesture for me. The
In Galentea, the full prostration was the highest form of courtesy — one generally reserved for worshipping the gods and honoring one's ancestors. Beyond that, it was the slave masters of the Hanea Bada Kingdom who forced their slaves to perform this kowtow, to satisfy their vanity and their lust for power over the lives and deaths of others.
The big man froze, his eyes widening in near-disbelief: "We're free?"
Lorist nodded: "Yes, you are all free. But you'll need to remain under our temporary supervision for a while, so you don't get in the way of our operations. We are still in the midst of war. Once we've eliminated the slave masters and slave traders in that city, you will have truly gained your freedom."
The big man straightened up, gathered the two children beside him into his arms, and wept without restraint: "Freedom… we're free…"
Lorist studied the big man and his two children with quiet interest. The older one was a boy, around eleven or twelve years old. The younger was a girl of only seven or eight, yet she was dressed like a boy, her hair chopped into a haphazard mess. Lorist supposed this was yet another way of keeping a girl safe.
"My lord, forgive the spectacle." The big man finally composed himself after a long bout of tears. "Might we learn your honorable family name? We will never forget this kindness."
"We are the Norton Family of Northland — the Roaring Fierce Bear," a guard beside Lorist answered proudly.
"Northland? Norton, Fierce Bear?" The big man shuddered: "I understand now. You're here for revenge. No wonder your armor looked so familiar. Last time, the dock garrison even caused a death over one of your breastplates."
"Oh, what is your name?" Lorist raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued.
"My lord, my name is Kaimen. I am from the Roman Empire," the big man replied respectfully.
"The Roman Empire? That's quite far. Rise and tell me — how did you become a slave?" Lorist asked.
"Thank you, my lord." Kaimen stood up. "My lord, I was once a squire to Count Bilopu. The Count offended the powerful Prime Minister, was stripped of his lands, and then attacked by the army. After we squires and guards were captured, we were all sold to slave traders. This was nineteen years ago; I was only fifteen then..."
"You awakened combat force?"
"With two children..." Kaimen answered bitterly.
"Then why were you locked on that galley?" Lorist asked.
"The..." Kaimen pointed toward the distant Storm sailing on the sea and the cluster of sunken ships. "My lord, are those ships also from your family?"
Lorist nodded.
"Too impressive! In just that short while, they sank ten or more ships from the Royal Patrol Fleet. The remaining ships didn't dare approach. The one in charge came up with an idea: fill the rowing galleys with combustibles, ignite them, and ram them into that ship. That's why they picked slaves like us who have families—asking us to trade our lives for our families' safety..."
Lorist felt a shiver of lingering fear. Thank goodness he'd arrived in time to thwart the enemy's plan. Otherwise, with twenty or thirty fire-laden rowing galleys charging the Storm, who knows what kind of damage it might have taken...
"Take one battalion to search every ship in the port. Drag everyone off the vessels for screening. Kill anyone who resists!" Lorist commanded the guards beside him.
"My lord, those Royal Patrol Fleet men all fled into the inner city with the dock garrison. Their ships are already abandoned," Kaimen said from nearby.
"But the merchant ships still have people on them. Everyone must disembark for inspection." Lorist was quite pleased. The two hundred or more vessels now anchored in Nubite Port were all his spoils. The ships alone were worth at least a million gold ferd.
"By the way, Kaimen—you mentioned earlier that the dock garrison fought over one of our suits of armor and people died. What was that about?"
"My lord, three months ago, the slave hunters here launched a major attack, didn't they? Did they raid your domain?" Kaimen asked.
"Yes, they attacked one of our island territories," Lorist replied.
"Your domain's garrison is formidable," Kaimen complimented. "I remember the dock garrison sent over twenty men, but only three came back. They managed to loot some valuables, but it seems the only piece of equipment they stripped from your fallen soldiers was a single chestplate. After they returned, those three argued endlessly over who owned it. They'd been drinking heavily and it turned into a fight—two died and one was injured. The injured one didn't last two days either, dying from blood loss. The chestplate was taken by the garrison captain."
At the time, it was me and a few other slaves who went to clean up the scene, so I had a pretty deep impression of that chestplate. When I saw your family soldiers just now all wearing armor of the same style, I knew you'd come for revenge. But my lord, last time it seemed like a lot of your people were captured — there were tens of thousands of slaves herded off those ships. We were all wondering where they came from."
"Only a small fraction of them were actually our subjects. The majority were drifters we'd recruited for territory development and construction. It was precisely because we recruited so many drifters that the slave masters and slave traders here set their sights on our family's territory. Oh, and Kaimen — a great many of our family's soldiers were captured as well. Do you have any idea where they're being held?" Lorist asked.
"My lord, let me think... I believe someone mentioned something," Kaimen said, straining to recall.
"Barri, Barri, come here!" Kaimen turned and called out to the slaves behind him.
A thin, small slave of sixteen or seventeen shuffled over timidly. "Uncle Kaimen, you called for me?"
"Yes, Barri. Two months ago at the dock, did you see a group of very unusual slaves being brought off a ship?"
The slave called Barri nodded.
Kaimen said, "Think carefully — what was it about those slaves that struck you as unusual? And where were they taken?"
"Well, when they came off the ship, every single one of them looked proud and defiant. A lot of them were wounded, and some were cursing up a storm. They kept saying that my lord would come to rescue them and that when he did, he'd slaughter every last one of their captors. The dock guard was there at the time, and when they heard the cursing, they grabbed their whips and wanted to go teach them a lesson, but the captors stopped them. The captors said these slaves were all being sent to the Hamidas Capital arena, and if the guards whipped them and damaged the goods, they'd have to pay compensation. So the dock guard took their anger out on the rest of us slaves instead — they even lashed me a few times..." Barri said.
"The Hamidas Capital arena?" Lorist felt a sudden, ominous premonition.
Sure enough, Kaimen confirmed this premonition: "My lord, perhaps only a small portion of your people managed to survive. The Hamidas Capital arena is a veritable hell — every inch of its ground is wept upon by the countless ghosts of slave gladiators. The slave masters here adore watching gladiatorial performances above all else. They love pitting slaves against magical beasts to fight, watching the slaves get torn apart and devoured alive. They also split slaves into two teams to slaughter each other, with only the victors earning the right to live..."
"There are gladiator shows roughly every ten days, though those are small-scale — around ten or so casualties each time. Once a month there's a grand event, with at least a hundred combatants in a team battle each time, and all the slave masters turn out to watch. Last month they even held a founding anniversary celebration, and I heard nearly a thousand slave gladiators died..."
A surge of killing intent erupted from deep within Lorist's heart, and his eyes turned slightly red: "Very well. Hamidas Capital arena — for every one of my family soldiers who died, I'll kill ten of them to accompany them in the grave. For every Family Knight I've lost, I'll slaughter a hundred nobles as sacrificial offerings..."
"Minor casualties. Great Swordmaster Injeliek sent me to report to you, my lord, and to ask when we should launch the siege?"
Lorist raised his head and gazed at the inner city in the distance, its walls teeming with figures: "Are there many wall-mounted ballistae on the ramparts?"
"No fewer than a hundred as far as we currently know," the soldier replied.
Though learning that the soldiers and Family Knights captured on Silowas Island had been sent to the Hamidas Capital arena enraged Lorist terribly, his fury wasn't quite enough to make him lose his head and order the family forces to assault the city on the spot.
"Order the troops to pull back beyond the range of the wall-mounted ballistae and establish defensive positions. Set up patrol lines to prevent the enemy in the inner city from escaping. Order the single-wheel steel crossbow regiment to set up firing positions outside the four gates and suppress the ballistae on the walls. Since we've already secured the dock district, order Auvikis's Thunderbolt catapult battalion to board ships and come over here. Let the enemies in the inner city live one more day. We'll launch the attack tomorrow," Lorist ordered.
"Yes, my lord." The soldier ran off again.
"My lord..." Bodfanger also hurried over.
"How are things on your end?" Lorist asked.
"
"Good. If Rosemark and his men have already secured those eight islands, you can order them to bring their people back. All prisoners and slaves are to be brought to the main island. Leave one squadron on each island for watch duty — if they spot any hostiles, light the wolf-signal fires to raise the alarm. Order Senbawood's naval corps to tighten patrol around the coastal archipelago. Give him one heavy infantry battalion and one single-wheel steel crossbow regiment, and have them sweep the remaining nineteen islands clean. Bring back all prisoners and slaves..."
"Yes, my lord." Bodfanger snapped to attention and answered.
"My lord, my lord..." Kaimen called out.
"What is it?" Lorist asked.
"My lord, could you give us a chance to serve you? You rescued us and gave us our freedom. We can organize ourselves and fight alongside you to take the city. My lord, we're not afraid of death. Just give us weapons and we can take our revenge on those slave masters and the garrison troops who oppressed us..."
Lorist shook his head. "Kaimen, it's good that you have such spirit, but to be honest, I don't think well of your chances. You've had no training, your bodies are weak — sending you to assault the walls would be sending you to die for nothing. Such a sacrifice would have no value..."
Kaimen's eyes dimmed. He knew Lorist was telling the truth.
"However, Kaimen, you can help us in other ways." Lorist pointed toward the large group of slaves gathered in the dock district. "Go organize them for me. We need guides, people to show us the way. We need your help to find the granaries here and get food to fill your stomachs. The Kingdom of Haniabadha reportedly has over four hundred thousand slaves. If we rescue you but then leave you to fend for yourselves, it would turn into a disaster of immense proportions."
"Go gather up the ones among the slaves who have prestige and talent. I believe you have the ability to do this. You'll need to set up a resettlement camp first, so that the slaves we rescue will maintain order. Once we've eliminated those slave masters, we can arrange ships to send you back to the continent and let you return home."
"Oh, right, there are many other things we'll need your help with. You can help us sort through the slave masters' lackeys and determine who deserves to die and who doesn't, help us find the hidden storerooms of those slave masters, help us cook meals, transport the wounded, and keep the supply lines running — rather than charging into battle alongside us. Of course, if you're willing, you can also return with us to the Northland and settle down on our family's lands. Kaimen, will you help?"
Kaimen bowed deeply. "My lord, being able to serve you is the greatest honor of my life. I believe all the slaves will be more than willing to work for you."
(To be continued.)