"This place is safe!"
A commoner led Pistri Hamlet into a shed in the Docklands—only with a roof and walls connecting to the roof, the remaining sides were filled with straw except for the pillars.
This straw was a treasure for the commoner in front.
Even the bed was layered with blankets.
Of course, there were fleas inside.
Pistri stumbled as he was pulled in, still in a state of bewildernt.
Until now, this Young Lion dared not believe his Uncle had actually launched a rebellion.
And certainly, he couldn't believe his best friend had betrayed him.
Why?
Pistri really wanted to shout out loud.
As the Young Lion, Pistri Hamlet, who had mingled with commoners for years, had a bad reputation among the Nobles of the Inner Bay.
Nobles considered this Young Lion as fallen, as one who had forgotten Noble Honor.
In fact, for a long ti, he was absent from the Noble salons in the Inner Bay.
This did not bother the Young Lion.
He hated endless banquets and salons.
He hated the extre hypocrisy where people wanted to kill one another yet remained cordial.
He preferred sincerity and frankness.
He liked the idea of returning ho after a busy day, where his wife and children patiently awaited the husband, and the family ate roasted potatoes and bran black bread.
No soup, nor any seasoning.
But there was warmth.
Just like the warmth of a ho.
He liked it that way.
Thus he was willing to befriend commoners.
Of course, he also concealed his identity.
Not that he didn't want to be open, but because once he had confided boldly, his once talkative friend beca reserved upon seeing him again.
Such restraint shouldn't exist between friends.
Thus, he distanced himself from that friend and started making new friends.
However, today was an exception—
Today was his first friend's wedding day.
He felt it was a must to attend the wedding.
But when he arrived at the wedding venue, his friend's expression was quite odd.
A kind of astonishnt.
Also unexpected.
Mixed with an unspeakable discomfort.
Such expressions shouldn't appear at weddings.
But soon he learned why.
Soldiers!
A group of soldiers surrounded them.
Handing a bag of money to his friend.
"Thank you for your cooperation."
The leader said.
Then the soldiers rushed towards him.
This scene plunged Pistri Hamlet into inexplicable anger—at the ti, he didn't know exactly what happened, but he had undeniably been betrayed by his friend.
This made him very angry.
For the first ti, he experienced the taste of betrayal.
But he was more confused.
Because—
"Run!"
His friend dashed out, standing in front of the soldiers.
Then—
Got slashed.
The head nearly dropped.
The face twisted in pain at the brink of death.
Seeing the distortion, Pistri felt confused.
He had been betrayed by his first friend.
But the one who obstructed his Uncle was also this friend.
"Why?"
Pistri wondered.
"They've taken Kaka."
The nearby commoner said.
Kaka, the deceased friend's fiancée, or accurately, his wife.
The two were supposed to get married today.
For this, he had prepared a sufficiently heavy gift.
His purpose of attending the wedding today was due to this gift.
He hoped his first friend could live a better life.
But...
The bewildered Pistri raised his head to look at the commoner beside him—the man was his friend's friend, whom he had seen a few tis before.
It was this person who pulled him out amidst the chaos.
If not for him, he'd have been caught by those soldiers belonging to his Uncle long ago.
Even later, successfully fleeing into the Docklands was due to him.
"Don't look at .
I was asked by that fellow..."
Thud!
Before finishing, an arrow shot over, piercing through the commoner's neck.
A distance away, the pursuers were holding crossbows, grinning gruesoly.
The commoner clutched his neck, trying to say sothing, but couldn't utter a word, could only keep signaling to Pistri with his eyes.
Run!
Pistri hesitated for a mont, then turned and ran as the man gestured forcefully.
And behind him, the shed erupted in flas.
Before falling, the commoner yanked down the kerosene lamp.
The lamp oil and flas instantly ignited the straw-filled shed, blocking the advancing soldiers, while Pistri was grabbed by a skinny commoner and pulled into an alley—
"Follow !"
This commoner wasn't just skinny, he wore no boots.
Not even a decent piece of garnt, almost shirtless.
Pistri swore he didn't know this person.
This was his first eting with him.
But just this first eting, the stranger helped him.
"Hey, being chased by those bastards ans you aren't a bad guy, and just now Tita helped you until his death, I feel I should help you.
After all, I owe Tita a cornbread."
The skinny commoner chuckled.
Then, pulling Pistri, he zigzagged and charged out of the pursuers' encirclent.
In a small alley by a warehouse, the skinny commoner pulled open a 'door' from a pile of junk—a door entirely woven from various garbage and concealed among the trash.
In fact, calling it a door wasn't accurate.
It should be called...
A lid!
"Get inside, walk from here!
This path leads directly to the docks, where there are many boats.
You must find a way to board a boat.
Or you can swim out!"
The skinny commoner said while pushing Pistri in.
Obviously, this commoner had humor.
But in the next mont, the smile turned stiff.
A longsword pierced through the chest of the commoner.
The commoner lowered his head, looking at the longsword through his chest, twitching his mouth, wanting to laugh again, but couldn't.
All he could do was growl—
"Run!"
After saying it, he forcefully covered the lid.
Even lying flat on the lid.
"Release him!"
"Pull him off!"
In the pursuers' roars, the sound of blades repeatedly hacking resounded.
The skinny commoner was minced into pulp.
Pursuers continued the chase—
"My lord, why do you run?"
The pursuers laughed crazily.
Pistri was running instinctively, subrged in a bizarre state.
Anger, confusion, and helplessness.
Seeing Pistri crawl out, the pursuers laughed even harder—
"My lord, can you escape?
Why not kneel and pray to the Divine Spirits?
Maybe the Divine Spirits will co to save you, and even resurrect your good friends?"
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