Chapter 151
“Sir, looks like even you can’t resist a pretty face. But hey, since there are two ladies, why not keep them both alive? How about we split them? You take one, and leave one for us.” Deemer smirked as he spoke.
His tone was sleazy, dripping with innuendo, every word oozing with shameless intent.
But despite his casual banter, Deemer remained standing atop the gate of the stronghold. He made no move to come down, nor did he order the gates opened. Clearly, he still did not trust Gilbert.
While Gilbert was making subtle moves, Deemer discreetly signaled to someone inside. Bandits hidden within the bastion quietly moved out from the other side, circling around to surround Gilbert.
“You can have the other woman,” Gilbert said, a mocking smile creeping across his face. “But I doubt you’ll have the guts to keep her.”
“Oh? That so?” Deemer narrowed his eyes, his tone turning sour. “From the way you’re talking, it sounds like there’s more to her than meets the eye. You were just going on and on about how great they were, but not a word about this part. Why leave out the important stuff?”
Gilbert’s grin deepened. “Because there’s no point explaining anything to a dead man.”
“What? You-” Deemer flared in rage. Before he could finish, Gilbert’s lip curled in disdain, and with a flick of his hand, the giant centipede, already lurking by Deemer’s side, sprang into action. In a flash, it lunged at Deemer’s head and sank its fangs deep into his skull.
Deemer let out a blood–curdling scream.
“Deemer?”
“Kill that man.”
“Take him down.”
The bandits swarmed forward, weapons raised.
Gilbert drew the twin curved blades from his back, his eyes glinting coldly. Standing firm, he sneered, “I’ll give you one chance. Surrender, and I won’t kill you.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the massacre began. A brutal and overwhelming slaughter ensued. The entire Onyxgrave Bastion descended into chaos but it did not last long.
An hour later, over a third of the bandits lay dead. The remaining two–thirds had surrendered. It was not that they lacked courage; it was just that Gilbert was terrifying.
Just as Gilbert had promised, he spared those who surrendered. As for the ones who resisted, he showed no mercy, cutting them down until their bodies lay in bloody heaps, limbs severed, faces frozen in terror.
His ruthless methods left the survivors trembling. Only after confirming that no one else dared to resist did Gilbert finally recall his pet. Then, in a calm and indifferent tone, he issued his command. “Clean this place up. We move out at nightfall.”
There were just over five hundred men left in Onyxgrave Bastion, hardly enough to stand against Nolan’s Black Flag forces. But Gilbert did not mind. He had never expected these losers to win. Their only value was to die for him.
As dusk fell, the caravan continued onward. There were no inns or rest stops along the way, only wilderness for miles. That night, Nolan had the convoy set up camp beside a stream. Black Flag’s men formed a perimeter and began preparations.
Eliza stepped out of the carriage and sat beside the campfire to rest.
“The night air’s damp and chilly. Put on another layer, or you might catch a cold.” Nolan walked over and handed her a cloak.
1/2
“What’s this?” Eliza took it and realized it was a woman’s cloak, plain in color, simple in design. It was just her style.
“Reverend Mary Mendoza asked me to give it to you earlier,” Nolan said matter–of–factly. “I forgot.”
Eliza gave him a doubtful glance. “Really?”
‘Mary packed such a huge bundle of stuff for me. If she meant to include this, why not just pack it with everything else? Why leave out just this one piece?‘ Eliza thought, frowning slightly.
“Yes. Don’t worry about it.” Nolan’s expression remained perfectly calm, not a hint of guilt in his voice.
