Chapter 236: Quell the riots
"What’s going on?!"
Torches suddenly flared up all around, illuminating the entire camp. The firelight revealed Anwei’s stunned expression—and Phield’s thoroughly displeased one. The slaves trembled, staring in disbelief at the baron seated atop his warhorse.
"I’ve been waiting for you for quite a while," Phield said coldly as he rode forward. "If you’re bored, go play with filth. But if you dare start a rebellion, then you’re just tired of living."
This bunch was truly incompetent. They had exposed themselves three separate times, yet still wore confident expressions—as if they had no idea where their courage even came from.
A chill ran down Anwei’s spine. Realizing his mistake, he hurriedly waved his hands. "My lord, this is a misunderstanding!"
"So a misunderstanding means you don’t have to die?"
As if he had heard a joke, Phield casually waved his hand as though discarding trash. "Kill them."
The guards stepped forward, raising their shields. From the gaps in the heavy shield wall, dense ranks of long halberds extended outward like reeds, advancing steadily.
As the most elite and loyal force in the territory, their oppressive presence needed no explanation.
The slaves stumbled backward in terror, their crude weapons shaking uncontrollably in their hands.
"Fight them!"
Seeing no escape as the guards closed in from all sides, Jay howled and charged forward without fear of death.
Steel armor clanged sharply. Cold halberd blades thrust out, plunging viciously into the bodies of the charging rebels. With the sickening sound of metal piercing flesh two or three times in succession, several gaping wounds were torn open across Jay’s body.
"No..."
The world spun around him. Before he could even utter a final word, his throat filled with foul blood. He collapsed to the ground with a dull thud.
The guards stepped forward in unison, killing seven or eight rebels in an instant.
That scene reignited the fear of nobles deep within Anwei’s blood. One thought echoed wildly in his mind: How did I ever dare do this? His eyes widened as regret consumed him—he wished he could slap himself. No—he wished even more that he could return to Maple Leaf City and slap Simon instead.
The other slaves were even worse off—so terrified they nearly wet themselves, trembling so badly they couldn’t even run.
The rebels’ morale collapsed completely. They threw down their weapons, crying and begging as they knelt on the ground.
Anwei’s eyes flickered. Acting ruthlessly, he suddenly thrust his spear into the body of a nearby slave companion and shouted, "My lord, I didn’t want to rebel! They forced me! I’m loyal!"
"Stop."
Phield raised his fist. The surrounding guards immediately halted their slaughter, planting their shields firmly into the ground.
"Thank you for your mercy, my lord!"
The slaves prostrated themselves as if they had seen an angel. Anwei, in particular, was overjoyed, secretly congratulating himself on his cleverness.
"Just killing them all would be a waste."
Phield wasn’t thinking about human rights or compassion—he was thinking about his gold.
Buying and transporting these slaves had cost money.
"Except for him, take the rest away. I have other uses for them tomorrow."
"Yes, my lord."
The guards moved swiftly, dragging the slaves away like dead dogs, leaving only Anwei and a pile of corpses behind.
"My lord, I can do anything—just spare me!" Anwei cried, snot and tears streaming down his face. "I was forced into this!"
Phield found it amusing. This man had clearly been the one who instigated the rebellion, and his ruthlessness—combined with his ability to adapt—made it obvious he was no ordinary slave. The only question was: whose subordinate was he?
Seeing Phield remain silent, Anwei felt a surge of relief. Looks like I fooled him.
Phield smiled mockingly. "Which province are you from?"
"Uh... Mother Province," Anwei blurted, continuing his nonsense.
"Good, very good. Take him away—send him to Kai for a proper interrogation."
After suppressing the rebellion, Phield returned to the great winery. Clara stood there, fidgeting nervously with her hands, waiting anxiously.
"Your information was accurate," Phield said with a smile. "You did very well. Here’s what we’ll do—my castle garden needs flowers. From now on, you’ll work there. My maids will teach you what to do. And in the afternoon, come to the winery for lessons."
"Thank you, my lord!" Clara bowed happily.
"Go back now. Get some rest." Phield ruffled her hair and sent her off.
The next day, Kai—who had spent the entire night interrogating Anwei—arrived, looking refreshed and energized.
"Did he talk?" Phield gestured for him to sit.
"Uh... talk about what?"
Kai broke into a cold sweat. He had enjoyed the torture a bit too much and forgotten to ask properly. Then he suddenly realized, "Ah! Right—I remember. While begging for mercy, he said quite a lot."
"He claimed he’s one of Simon’s men, under Baron Simon’s protection, and that we shouldn’t treat him like this."
So it really was him?
Phield raised an eyebrow, sneering inwardly. Simon... Simon. I didn’t expect you to reach this far so soon.
Simon had provided him with craftsmen before, and Phield had thoroughly investigated them—but sending one of his own men disguised as a slave required a high level of loyalty.
"Anything else?"
Kai nodded. "He said he came for the Vigor Elixir, and had no intention of harming anyone. He begged us to spare his life."
"Mm. That must be what Simon’s after." Phield smiled. "Make him spill everything he knows. Tomorrow, drag him to the slave camp and hang him publicly. Otherwise, people might start thinking I’m easy to bully."
"My lord... but he’s Baron Simon’s man. If we execute him like this, could it cause trouble for you?"
Kai spoke carefully.
Phield knew Kai wasn’t well-versed in internal politics. If I dare to kill him, does Simon dare to admit he was his man? Of course not. He wouldn’t risk offending me over something like this.
Nobles rarely tore off the mask completely unless it was the final moment—otherwise, neither side would benefit.
Even the Empress of the Sacred Griffin Empire, who possessed the greatest military power in the nation, did not dare act rashly against major nobles—sometimes not even minor ones.
That was the art of politics.
Phield waved his hand and changed his tone, feigning anger.
"This damned rat dared to impersonate one of Baron Simon’s men, attempting to damage the unbreakable relationship between me and Maple Leaf City. A crime worthy of death. Charge him with slandering a noble and murder—put him through several rounds of torture first, then hang him. Do not mention Simon or the Vigor Elixir."
"Yes!"
Kai finally relaxed. Executing another noble’s subordinate had made him uneasy.
"As for the other rebels—reduce their food to a quarter of what it was. Send them to the salt mines to dig stone. No pay."
"Understood. We’ll send them today."
Killing them outright would be a loss. Better to squeeze out whatever value remained until they worked themselves to death.
After Kai left, Phield picked up the refined salt on the table, examining it with satisfaction.
It was pure and translucent, faintly tinged with the soft pink hue unique to rock salt. When he inhaled, it carried a pleasant aroma—undeniably a premium product.
"No problem selling this at all. The nobles will love it. Aside from the Vigor Elixir, Nightfall Domain finally has a second product worth offering."