Chapter 415: Chapter 19: Kill You, and Your Things Beco Mine
In the face of soldier casualties, Roman initially felt intense sadness, but now there is only a sigh.
He sent people to transport the bodies of the warriors back and buried them in Origin City’s cetery, then reinforced those fortresses with additional troops.
War does not only bring losses, but also gains.
There is no need to ntion ordinary materials for now.
There are between two to three thousand captives alone.
These captives were common folks in the past, summoned now purely to serve as consumables and cheap labor.
Most of them were gaunt and pale, with a mouth full of rotten teeth, belonging to inferior goods among slaves, unlikely to fetch a good price.
Roman happened to have captured so many captives—unless it’s a siege, the victorious side couldn’t catch many captives.
At that ti, he led the troops northward, sweeping along in a formidable manner from the frontline.
On the other side, Ed gathered a small group of remaining troops and captured the rcenary camp at the rear, where many farrs and nials couldn’t escape in ti and beca captives.
Roman had a complete process for handling this group of laborers—enslaving captives was his only thod of population absorption.
But not all of these captives were manual laborers.
There were also traveling rchants, squires of knights, maids of nobles, and grooms…
…
Several days after the war ended.
The sky was overcast, and fine rain was falling.
Fortunately, the rain didn’t affect the work.
The place where the captives were held was terrible; dirty, chaotic, and poor. With the rain, mud was everywhere, exuding a strong sll of ferntation—this was originally a place for temporarily housing slaves.
Roman ca riding in, wearing a rain cloak. Behind him were Shasta, Margaret, and others.
Roman didn’t want to step foot in this pigsty-like environnt, and if it weren’t necessary, he didn’t want to be here at all.
A hundred militia and a squadron of soldiers guarded this place to prevent disturbances.
The Squadron Leader saw Roman’s group and ca forward, saying: “Your Highness, those traveling rchants have been clamoring to see you.”
Roman glanced. “Traveling rchants?”
“Yes!” The Squadron Leader led Roman to them.
This group lived in the best cages, about a dozen of them, haggard and clothes dirty, struggling to maintain their dignity.
When they saw Roman—red-eyed, brown-haired, noble deanor, riding a white horse, undoubtedly the son of Riptide—they imdiately cheered up, pulling at their collars and shouting:
“Lord Roman, we are not your enemies.”
“We do business with you, but your warriors were too rough, locking us up here.”
“I am from Free City, please return our property.”
At first glance, Roman knew what kind of people they were.
The land always has this—it’s never void of soone seeking opportunities upon the outbreak of war—they do all kinds of business, slave trade included, adept at handling war trophies, and follow war like shadows.
But constantly standing by the river, where does one’s shoes stay dry. Ed treated them all alike, regardless of their origin, and sent them all as captives, without thinking if this would cause trouble for Roman.
As facts proved, Roman didn’t find this troubleso—he had no interest in them.
But the Squadron Leader didn’t know how to deal with them.
The Squadron Leader was nad Dave, appearing thin and weak, with brown hair and brown eyes, previously lost three fingers on his left hand on the Heavenly Pegasus Plain, greatly diminishing his combat power, but still had the ability to fight.
Dave said: “Your Highness, rchants are neutral and claim they can do many free tasks for us…”
“Are there free tasks?” Roman asked. Dave pondered and said: “Maybe it’s their way of buying their lives.”
Roman frowned, expression tired: “I don’t want their money.”
They do things for other armies in the sa free manner, as long as there is a spread in profit.
The traveling rchants, initially stunned, then panicked and trembled like sifting chaff, clearly understanding the aning of these words.
This ti they were in for it, having been in business half their lives and never expected to end up like this, originally hoping Roman’s noble deanor would give them freedom, but now they received this result,
“No, no, no, Lord Roman, you can’t do this to us…”
“We ca to do business, what do you want to do?”
They were terrified, having overheard conversations among militia these days, that the River Valley King Roman executed all war captives in a central beheading, and their identity as ordinary slaves spared them.
But being in such a fierce place, they lived each day in fear, worried that this cruel lord might take their heads as well.
No need to worry now.
The suspended heart finally seed settled!
rchants chase wealth, but life is unpredictable, even the rich can capsize in a stormy sea.
When scholars et soldiers, reasoning is pointless!
It’s ti to cut one’s losses to survive!
“In the na of the Hall Family, I swear that as long as you spare my life, I am willing to hand over all my accumulated wealth to you. I promise not to disappoint you.” Lante Hall spoke loudly, trying to sway Roman’s thoughts.
Roman, upon hearing these words, turned his head.
“What do you do?” he asked.
“I am here to entertain the knights, I have many treasures, but they have fallen into your hands along with .” the rchant replied.
He pointed to another cage not far away, a slave cage made of bars and a roof, lacking even wind-and-rain shielding panels to save building materials, where many won lay or sat on the damp floor.
After days of captivity, those won were in disarray, thoroughly drained.
“Who are they?”
“Your Highness, they are camp prostitutes.” Answered Dave, who was well aware of everyone’s identity here, he said. “rely prostitutes.”
Roman turned his gaze to Lante: “The treasure you speak of is them?”
“They are all money trees, bought female slaves, but only a dozen or so over there are mine, you let return, I’ll bring all treasures I have elsewhere to you.” the rchant said politely, knowing how to negotiate with nobility.
Roman’s face remained calm, looked at the anxious rchant for a mont, then glanced at the numbed camp prostitutes.
He gestured to the soldiers beside him, who, seeing Roman’s gesture, understood and handed over the spear he was holding.
Roman first held the spear, weighed it twice, and the rchant nad Lante instantly realized! Eyes wide and terror-stricken, he turned swiftly to flee into the crowd—but his actions were never quicker than Roman’s spear!
Roman, under his cloak, on horseback with his muscular arms! Single-handedly exerting force! He threw the spear!
Whoosh!
Precise direction!
Blazing speed!
Lante only glanced back in panic for a mont…
‘Puff’ The ferocious steel spearhead pierced sideways into his chest, then out from his back, exploding into a large spray of blood mist in an instant, leaving him no room to resist, then the imnse force pinned the rchant to the ground!
Silent!
Dead silence!
Everyone in the cage went pale, lips trembling, even stirring panic among the slaves in the neighboring cages.
Flowing!
Blood gushing!
Blood flowing out from his body, Lante lost all ability to resist, with a large gush of blood spilling from his mouth, still murmuring: “My… treasures… all yours…”
“By killing you, all treasures are mine!” Roman said coldly from atop, lips icy. “Execute them all! Leave no one!”
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