The Lord Of Blood Hill

Chaos reigns on Henwell’s side.

Because there are hostages, the guards hesitate to launch a full attack.

Yet not all test subjects are involved, some lie on the ground, covering their heads and staying still.

Others try to join the rioters but get pushed back.

One even attacks the rebels but ends up beaten down by them.

The rioters’ leader shouts out, “Tell your people to back off and let us go, or I’ll kill these hostages!”

Outside, Phoebe Crow puts on a convincing act, or maybe he’s genuinely anxious. After all, this is his oversight that led to the crisis.

Though he knows Henwell and Jax are among the hostages and likely safe, he can’t hide the worry on his face.

Phoebe Crow responds, “As long as you don’t harm our people, we can talk. But if any of ours get hurt, none of you walk away!”

The two sides stand off, bargaining and arguing over terms.

After a while, several Lord Iron Guards squad leaders return, their armor stained with blood.

The lead captain, DeWitt, looks around. “Where’s the lord?”

Phoebe Crow points toward the exercise yard. “There! Henwell’s been kidnapped!”

Seeing Henwell in a white coat held by rioters, DeWitt scratches his head. “Should I report to the lord?”

Phoebe Crow glares at him. “Go! Don’t blame me if you get beaten.”

DeWitt hesitates. “Jax is also among the hostages. Who do I report the riot to?”

Then he looks at Phoebe Crow. “You, then.”

With that, DeWitt salutes. “The riots in all six zones have been fully suppressed. Our people got injured but no fatalities. On the test subject side, thirty-seven are dead and many wounded. Emergency treatment is underway, but a few are badly hurt and may not make it.”

Phoebe Crow scolds, “You should have been more careful! Their lives are valuable now! The experimental data they carry is crucial.”

DeWitt shrugs. “Though we had your orders, it happened suddenly. To avoid injuries to our people, we had to act swiftly.”

At this moment, the rioters grow impatient.

They see more and more Lord Iron Guards arriving, tall warriors in blood-red cloaks and finely crafted armor.

It’s clear these are not opponents to be taken lightly.

Meanwhile, Dalton arrives with his team at the gates of the Technical Research Institute.

Around the perimeter, about a dozen cavalry units of a hundred riders each patrol continuously, searching for any escapees.

The Institute’s defense battalion rushes through every department, ordering researchers to stay in safe rooms and thoroughly clearing every corner.

Dalton leads his group straight to Henwell’s area, which is heavily cordoned off.

He looks around. “Where’s the lord?”

Cumberland, the senior commander from the Military Intelligence Office beside him, gestures toward the hostage situation in the exercise yard.

Seeing Henwell held captive, Dalton immediately steps forward and kicks the railing apart. “Lord, we brought the items. The riots in other zones have been suppressed. Cumberland has arranged tight surveillance, no information will leak out. The Technical Research Institute’s investigation starts immediately.”

Cumberland rubs his forehead. “With you acting like this, how is the lord supposed to keep up the act? Is your training really this unprofessional?”

Dalton glares at him. “Do you think I don’t know what the lord is trying to do? Didn’t you see the rioters losing patience and ready to kill to make a point? This act can’t continue. The lord won’t let these precious researchers get hurt. Besides, we’ve learned everything we need. From here on, it’s up to you to handle it.”

At that moment, Henwell warns the grim-faced Jax beside him, “Be careful not to hurt our people!”

Jax clenches the wrist of a rioter choking him, breaking it with a snap. In a flash, several captors controlling the hostages fall to the ground.

Before anyone can react, Dalton charges in and quickly subdues them all.

Henwell orders the frightened researchers to be escorted away while the subdued rioters are taken back to their cells.

Their injuries will only be treated after they are securely restrained.

The test subjects who didn’t join the riot are driven back into their cells.

Henwell walks over to the test subject who fought the rioters.

“Why didn’t you join the riot? Why did you fight them?”

The man struggles to stand and salutes Henwell. “My lord!”

Henwell smiles. “I thought so! How do you know military combat techniques? So you served in the army?”

He studies him for a moment. “Your name’s Jefferson, right? You killed people, four members of a family, if I remember correctly. You were originally with the 3rd Garrison Regiment. We fought together in the Ogiro defensive counterattack. “

”You earned merit and were transferred to the 9th Regiment as a squad leader, and fought alongside me in the war against Billie. Then you joined the 2nd Corps, 3rd Battle Regiment, and got promoted to sergeant.”

“During the Bloodgold Plain Campaign, you fought Ika’s 24th Corps on my flank. Your hundred-man squad was the first to break through the enemy lines. You got wounded in the aftermath. You were supposed to be promoted to company commander and attend the military academy, but then you killed four Peace Haven residents.”

Jefferson’s eyes widen. “You know me, my lord?!”

Henwell chuckles. “Ha… how could I know all of you? I command over a hundred thousand fighting brothers. Mostly, I remember you because of your crime. Your regiment commander, Gevana, even pleaded with me personally. I know you’re an excellent soldier and officer, but rules are rules.”

“Peace Haven is building an order that’s fair to most people in this chaotic world. When the law was first established, your case was a typical one, a decorated hero who committed a crime. I was personally involved in your trial. To be honest, I signed your death sentence myself. I’m sorry for your sacrifice, but I have to be responsible for many others as well.”

Jefferson’s expression darkens. “My lord, I know I was wrong. I accept my guilt. This is my due.”

Henwell pats his shoulder. “You’ve got broken ribs. Go get treated. When I finish dealing with these matters, we’ll talk again.”

As Jefferson is led away, he suddenly stops. “My lord, the mastermind behind this riot is Dart, the one in cell 22, in my block.”

Henwell nods, acknowledging the information.

Because of this exchange, the guards realize Jefferson was once a Peace Haven soldier.

Out of respect, they don’t put shackles on him.

Henwell approaches Dart’s cell door. “I thought you’d join the riot. But you didn’t. You know me?”

Dart looks confused. “Who are you?”

Henwell taps his chest. “Your heart’s racing. You should know who I am. Trying to hide your physiological reactions in front of a Grand Knight is very difficult. Even if you’re a highly trained spy, a professional, it’s hard to fool my senses.”