Vol 2 Chapter 123 Things That Must Be Done

Walking through the mountain forest under the cover of night, the dark environment that would be an obstacle to others was not much different from daytime in Sylutia’s eyes. She could even better conceal her figure in the darkness and use the power of the moonlight to enhance herself.

Following the mountain path, Sylutia gradually began to hear the sound of cart wheels coming from inside the mine.

Even at night, work here had not stopped. Outside the mine was a camp where Anty soldiers were stationed. They patrolled here, inspected the laborers emerging from the mine, confiscated the ore they had dug up, and then handed them food and water in exchange.

Those laborers who hadn’t managed to dig up any ore could only kneel on the ground, pleading desperately with hoarse voices, thin as skeletons. Yet these soldiers showed no mercy, or perhaps soldiers with any compassion simply couldn’t last long in this place.

Prolonged pleading and kowtowing left their bodies even weaker. Some, unable to hold on any longer, collapsed and fainted on the spot.

Seeing this, some miners truly couldn’t bear to watch and shared a little of their own food and water with them.

Unfortunately, some people couldn’t even swallow the food even when they received it. They had been starving for too long, their bodies extremely weak. At this point, feeding them was already too late.

Seeing that someone had died, a soldier walked over and kicked the unmoving body, spitting with disgust.

“See that! Work hard, or this will be your fate later!”

After saying that, he ordered a few nearby miners to carry the dead body onto a cart, then push it to the edge of a nearby cliff and dump it directly over, letting it plummet into the darkness.

No one screamed at such a scene, no one cried out in alarm. Most miners still ate their hard-earned food with numb expressions, their eyes hollow. Even with mouths full of dirt, they had no mind to wipe it away, simply swallowing it along with the black bread.

As the night deepened, they huddled together in a corner of the camp, wrapped up into a ball to sleep, resembling black mud balls, barely recognizable as human forms.

On the other side, the soldiers on night watch gathered around a table drinking, discussing which brothel in Scorchstone City had the most fun women, and what new entertainment had appeared recently.

“However, things have been a bit unsettled lately,” one soldier said, putting down his cup mid-drink and changing the topic.

“What’s wrong, why are you suddenly saying such things, *hic*~” a nearby Anty soldier, his face flushed red, patted his shoulder, still hiccuping, clearly quite drunk.

“When I went to the city during the day, I heard that Valley City in the north has been recaptured.”

“Isn’t that good news? So what.”

“It’s true it was recaptured, but General Nokton, who led the force, was seriously injured and remains unconscious. Over half of the knights under his command were killed.”

“No way, who could injure General Nokton? Those Knight Lords, with their plate armor and progression path abilities, are as hard as stone. I couldn’t even stab through them if they just stood there. How could anyone hurt them?”

“That’s true, it used to be easy when we fought Regas before.” He picked up his cup, drained it, let out a sigh, and then continued.

“Apparently, it was cultists.”

“Cultists?” His companion frowned.

“Yes, an unknown cult. I heard they can command monsters. Many Knight Lords were caught off guard, which caused the heavy casualties.”

“Anyway, there are cultist activities within Regas now. Our Scorchstone City is very close to Valley City, so I’m a bit worried.” He voiced his recent unease.

“Ah, what are you afraid of? People above us will worry about such things. We just need to eat, drink, and have fun.”

“To be honest, I feel staying here is much more comfortable than back in my hometown. Do whatever you want, just like a lord. It’s really satisfying.”

“Haha, that’s right. The girls back home wouldn’t even look at me, but here, I can play with several women a day, hehe.”

After that, they started discussing various strange fetishes again—some said they liked legs, some said they liked feet, and so on.

Outside the camp, on a large tree, Sylutia sat on a branch, listening to the sounds from the camp. The soldiers’ conversations, the breathing of sleeping laborers, and the faint clinking sounds from inside the mine were all clear to her.

Valley City in the north had been recaptured? She hadn’t expected Prince Jabers to be defeated so quickly. But judging by the outcome, the Anty army also suffered heavy losses. She wondered how things would develop next.

Since Prince Jabers wasn’t dead, there would probably be a few more battles within Regas. She didn’t know Prince Jabers and couldn’t guess his situation. Sylutia pondered.

Afterwards, Sylutia’s attention shifted back to the laborers huddled in the corner. She could see their condition was very poor. If this continued for a few more days, many more would likely die.

What to do, Sylutia? Will you just sit back and do nothing? The girl asked her own heart.

Defeating the soldiers in this camp would be very easy for her. However, what she would have to face afterwards was the real challenge.

There were currently about a hundred laborers in the camp outside the mine, and probably over three hundred more still working inside. If she saved all these people, how would she settle them?

With their speed, they definitely couldn’t run fast. Even if she led them in an escape, they would be easily caught up by the garrison troops from the city. At that point, she would have to face the lord and his army’s encirclement and attack.

Even if she won, things wouldn’t end there. Then, the cities ruled by Anty lords in the surrounding area would jointly send forces to suppress them. If she continued to resist, it would provoke an even greater backlash of force.

Thinking of this, the girl shook her head slightly. This choice definitely wouldn’t work.

Then, what about having the miners scatter and escape separately? She could think of other ways to divert the pursuers’ attention, and then escape herself.

That could indeed save the laborers currently in the mine. But as long as Lord Somerlin remained, he would definitely continue to capture people to mine here. Such tragedies would keep happening.

Try to persuade Lord Somerlin? Sylutia shook her head. That was impossible to even consider. Furthermore, she didn’t want to negotiate or reach an agreement with this notorious person.

Eliminate this lord? Even if he died, these soldiers would still make people mine, because it brought profit.

So what should be done? Is killing the only option? But where does the path of slaughter end? She couldn’t endlessly fight against the Kingdom of Ante. And if she stopped, the situation would revert to how it was.

Sylutia sat on the tree, thinking slowly, not just about the current situation she faced, but also about the many possible developments in the future.

At this moment, several more miners emerged with difficulty from the mine, carrying simple bamboo baskets on their backs.

They slowly walked to the camp, placed the baskets on their backs in front of the Anty soldiers for inspection, and begged for these to be exchanged for food and water.

“Heh, you guys, coming out so late.” The soldier teased and mocked them a few times, then rummaged through the baskets.

“Barely passable.” He shook his head, feeling somewhat bored, and had his companion bring over the sour black bread and crude clay pots to distribute food and water to these miners.

However, perhaps for fun, or perhaps to deliberately toy with these miners, he didn’t hand the food directly to them. Instead, he tore the bread apart and threw the pieces, making them scramble and fight for it.

Watching these former miner companions go crazy for food, fighting and biting each other, the Anty soldier sitting on the stool roared with laughter.

“Look at this, these are the dogs of Regas.”

During the scramble, many miners were injured. One black-haired old man finally managed to grab some food and clutched it to his chest, but another miner desperately pried open his arms and tore that piece of bread from his embrace.

Thus, the bread, originally the size of a palm, was finally torn until only a small piece remained. By then, the soldier started throwing new pieces of bread, so no one paid him any attention, instead scrambling for the newly thrown larger pieces.

“Haha.” Watching this scene, these Anty soldiers burst into waves of laughter, feeling the boring night had gained a bit more amusement.

Only then did that black-haired old man tremble as he put the bread into his mouth, chewing and slowly swallowing it.

After throwing a few more pieces of bread, a soldier noticed the black-haired old man slowly sitting up, as if remembering something.

“Oh, it’s you. I remember.”

“You’re called Vanderhey, right? Used to be a merchant, heh.”

“Back when I inspected your goods, I told you to share some with the brothers, but you stubbornly refused, stingy as a ghost.”

“What, are you regretting it now? Hahaha.”

“If you had been more sensible back then, you wouldn’t have ended up like this. Look, some merchants are very smart. Not only do they prepare money for us in advance, they also thoughtfully send various benefits.” As he spoke, he crossed his arms and shook his head, then kicked the black-haired old man with his foot, wearing an expression of exasperation.

“I think you’re just not cut out to be a merchant. You’re more suited to be a miser, guarding your little things, crying in a corner. Hahaha.”

Outside the camp, on the large tree, Sylutia slowly stood up.

Although she still hadn’t figured out how to handle the aftermath of this matter, there were some things she ultimately had to do.

That was when she was at her weakest and most uncertain, having just awakened in this world, completely unsure of what to do.

Fortunately, she met very good people back then: the village chief grandfather who arranged a place for her to stay, Captain Frien who taught her the Breathing Technique, Talier who looked after her, and the merchant Vanderhey who helped her buy clothes and arranged accommodation for her in an unfamiliar city.

When recalling the past, Sylutia often felt grateful. She was well taken care of back then and didn’t encounter anything terrible. Since she had met Vanderhey again today, this was probably the cycle of cause and effect at work.

Numerous grass seeds manifested in her hand. She then gently blew on them, scattering them into the night wind.

Sylutia lightly pressed one hand on her sword sheath. The pale golden blade slowly slid out, held in her fair fingers, hanging down along her sleeve.

She walked towards the camp illuminated by firelight, her pace gradually quickening. The blade swept over the grass, slicing through smooth, fragmented leaves. Finally, the blade flipped between her fingers, reflecting the braziers within the camp, casting a brilliant, momentary flash of light.

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