How could they forgive a noble's mistake with just one word of apology after being in such a situation for days? There was no way any of them could. Rather, a specific person they could direct their anger towards had appeared within arm's reach. It would be natural for all their pent up frustration to erupt at once.
It would have been different if he was a virtuous saint, or if he were a well renowned lord like Margrave Doldran, who racked up many achievements through the years. The people might pay further attention and listen to what else he had to say. However, the man standing on the podium was a youngster who had just become the new head of the family. In addition, although most people were unaware of this, he was a notorious in noble society for being a maniac who slaughtered slaves. It would be impossible for him to appease the refugees, who came from different parts of Volden with words alone, let alone Marlan, which he had rebuilt almost from scratch.
Yes, if he was limited to using words.
"......Silence!"
A loud roar capable of sending shivers, pierced through the abuses hurled from the people.
The black-robed military officer, Due, shouted.
The people became silent immediately. Due, wielding the two-handed sword, looked powerful even though he was the only escort. The people, who were used to violence only in fights between villagers, found it hard to resist the intimidating presence of a former adventurer who had slaughtered many monsters in his career.
Tullius held out his hand as if to rebuke his vassal for scaring the people, and continued again.
"You are all very right to be angry! The words of one who has a poor track record and appeared late at this perilous time are not to be believed. So..."
Then he broke off once and signalled behind him.
"—I'd like to present my sincerity first."
Next, several men and women, were pulled up to the platform by slaves.
The women were attractive looking while the men looked like government officials. They were all tied up with ropes behind their backs and gagged in their mouths. As if they were criminals.
Tullius howled to the crowd.
"These are the corrupt officials who have been embezzling taxes for years, and these women are their mistresses. Naturally, sustained by taxpayers."
"What!?"
"Our taxes for mistresses?"
Once again, angry voices erupted everywhere. But the target of their abuse changed from Tullius to those who were tied up.
Tullius put his hand on his brow with a look of sorrow.
"I cannot be more sorry that such impudent people exist despite the unprecedented crisis in our state. Most alarming of all is the fact that funds that should have been channelled to those who have flocked to the city for refuge have been illegally redirected to their private estates……"
The provocateur whispered into the ears of the people what they wanted to hear.
They are the reasons for your plight. They were the ones who have greedily snatched up funds for you to keep mistresses.
The eyes of the people, violence filled, were now fixed on the corrupt officials and their mistresses on the platform.
"I would like to ask you a question! What should I do with these people?"
The answer to my question came quickly.
"Kill them!"
"Take their heads off!"
"The death penalty, the death penalty!"
Death penalty, death penalty, death penalty!
The unanimous voices begging for death made the criminals tremble.
Making a strangely kind expression, Tullius removed the gag from one of the criminals and asked.
"That’s what the people want...... Do you have anything to say in return?"
The official panicked and yelled.
"What did I do wrong?"
The shouting of the people stopped. However, this was a different situation than when they were intimidated by Due. It was a dangerous equilibrium on the verge of explosion, as if a lid was forcibly placed on a boiling pot. The official continued to speak without seeming to notice the dangerous situation he was now in.
"Where’s the harm in taking some of the taxes? There's nothing wrong with having women around! Why am I being judged by these filthy refugees! What are you staring at, you lowborn!"
Seems like he did not understand the situation as he berated the crowd.
Somebody in the know would think the same. It was as if he was being made to speak everything that was in his mind.
It was a scene that seemed like a repeat of a certain trial last year.
But the people present here were the ignorant masses. They must not even know of the trial that had taken place a year ago. The only thoughts in their mind must be that these officials are looking down on them.
"You've got to be kidding me!"
"What the hell do you think we are?"
"Die! Just die already!"
The people, as if more oil had been poured into a fire, started stoning the criminals on the platform. Some of them were even throwing excrement. Tullius frowned, and instructed Due to execute the sentence quickly.
"Do it"
"...... alright"
He drew his two-handed sword and made a light sweeping motion. At the sound of the air roaring uneasily, the people stopped throwing things. He then stepped on the gagged man, who was still screaming.
"Waa!"
"Hey, any last words?"
"A trial! A fair trial under the kingdom’s laws—"
"The laws of that kingdom gives me the right to execute you...... Enough, make it quick."
Immediately after the new Count announced coldly, a decapitating blow was struck into the criminal’s neck.
Without even a scream, his head was lopped off, and blood spilled vigorously.
Due then moved on to the next person.
The other man was an accomplice. And the woman who knew that she was being paid with taxpayer’s money. One by one, their crimes were revealed and their heads were chopped off. Each time, the people shouted with joy.
"Justice served!"
"Karma!"
"Hurrah! Long live the lord!"
They cursed those who were beheaded and praised Tullius for carrying out their sentences. For the peasants, who were lacking in entertainment, the execution of criminals was the perfect entertainment. Those who have done evil were judged, while they, effectively the side of justice, watched unharmed. A bloody play on the theme of poetic justice in a straightforward manner.
The excited and exhilarated people were now blindly praising Tullius. They have completely forgotten that just a while ago, they were focused on their resentment against him.
The Count on the stage continued without seeming to care about sharp change in the people’s attitudes.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the evil have been judged, and their private properties have been reappropriated for the public. We will now use these funds to prepare a soup kitchen. We are also preparing to open up their homes and offices to be used as temporary housing for all refugees!"
"Hurrah!"
"Food and a place to stay!"
"Nothing could be better!"
"Hurrah! Long live Count Oubeniel!"
Hooray! Hooray! Hurray!
The cheers of the enthusiastic refugees were probably loud enough to be heard in the city of Volden. Tullius raised his hand in embarrassment. The man most commonly known as the "slave killer" or the "man-eating snake" was, for this moment, basking in the support of those he reigned over.
He proceeded to carefully mix poison into the euphoria of the people.
"However......!"
He waved his hand with an exaggerated gesture, and the people quieted down and listened. He had been making announcements one after the other. But this one would be his original purpose.
"However, Volden is currently threatened by the clutches of the invaders. We have a mere…… two thousand soldiers to fight back."
Suddenly, there was a stir. The number of soldiers he announced was too small to even defend the walls of Volden. It would be impossible for them to feel secure with this number.
"It pains me to have to say something like this to all of you who have endured so much hardship and suffering. But I hope for your understanding! Please, please stand with me and join me in the fight against St. Gallen!"
Tullius wanted to recruit militias to join the army.
"Man, what are we gonna do.....?"
"Of course it's impossible."
"There’s only two thousand soldiers...... It’s because of losses at battle that the numbers are this few right?"
Naturally, the people were anxious and hesitant.
Most of them were peasants who didn't know how to fight, and the enemy was St. Gallen, whose army was known to be strong. Even though it was a request from their lord, there was no way they could just join the battle.
The fervour that had risen with the purge of corrupt officials receded.
"I'm gonna join!"
From among the refugees, a young man spoke up.
"Even if the lord gives us food and lets us inside the city walls, we're screwed if we lose to St. Gallen! They'll take everything from us again, and we'll be thrown out into the cold!"
