To increase the success rate of her "fishing" operation, rookie fisher Selene specifically stationed the bulk of the Eighth Imperial Guard Corps at key transportation points throughout Patrypol City, leaving only five hundred imperial soldiers in the marketplace area.
"I don’t know," the Governor of Patrypol Province replied, lowering his head.
"If they do show up, it’ll just be an ’extra course’ for us. I’m sure Esdeath will have ways to make any captured prisoners talk. But it doesn’t really matter—whether the rebels co or not, these people are going to die anyway!" Selene said with a smile.
Gulp.
The Governor of Patrypol Province said nothing, but at the thought of Esdeath’s brutal interrogation thods, a bone-chilling fear gripped him.
A notice had already been issued: the execution was scheduled to begin at noon, with only half an hour left until then.
As ti passed and noon approached, Selene began to lose interest. There was still no movent in the square, indicating that the rebels didn’t dare to co.
"It seems they’re too scared to co... What a waste of the bait I carefully prepared..."
Soon, as the appointed ti arrived, the officer on the execution platform checked the ti, then stood in the center of the platform and shouted, "Prepare for execution!"
Shing! Shing! Shing!
At his command, the sound of long swords being drawn rang out. The soldiers of the Eighth Imperial Guard Corps stood in a line, drawing their swords and pointing them at the prisoners kneeling on the platform.
The executioner then began to read out the cris of the condemned: selling military supplies, colluding with rebels, leaking military secrets... heinous cris, all punishable by death today!
"Noon has arrived! Carry out the execution!"
With a final toss of the execution token...
Slash!
In an instant, the heads of the first ten prisoners fell to the ground!
The crowd of onlookers in the marketplace erupted into chaos. Though many had no love for the wealthy and powerful, the sight of sharp blades and the splattering blood made most of them fearful.
"Next batch!"
...
From atop a tall building overlooking the marketplace, Selene’s lips curled into a slight smile as she watched most of the prisoners being beheaded. "They’re really holding their nerve."
anwhile, the Governor of Patrypol Province, standing beside her, looked away in disgust. As a man who fancied himself cultured—skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting—he was completely out of his depth when it ca to slaughtering people like livestock.
Suddenly, just as the next group of prisoners was about to be executed, a deafening explosion echoed from afar.
Boom!
A small artillery shell struck one of the supports of the execution platform, causing it to collapse instantly.
The rebels had co to rescue their comrades.
The mont they saw this, the crowd in the marketplace scattered in panic like frightened animals.
In the next mont, dozens of figures rushed out from all directions, their target clear as they charged towards the wealthy and powerful who had fallen from the collapsed platform amidst the chaos.
"You can go as well," Selene ordered, watching the scene unfold.
"Yes, ma’am!" Before the words had fully left her lips, the officers behind Selene were already eagerly rushing toward their targets.
The soldiers of the Eighth Imperial Guard Corps, who had undergone Selene’s "training," were undoubtedly elite. Faced with the sudden assault, they quickly ford ranks and fearlessly engaged the rebels.
Perhaps the rebels had grown too accustod to easily defeating the empire’s local garrison forces. Having not fought a tough battle in a long ti, they completely underestimated the strength of the Imperial Guard. Instead of a successful ambush, they were utterly crushed by the soldiers of the Eighth Corps.
"Tch... With this level of strength, they dared to try and storm the execution grounds? They don’t know their place!"
The newly revealed officers laughed heartily, wielding their swords as they cut through the rebels like wolves among sheep. The force of each strike was so great that limbs were severed with ease. If Selene hadn’t ordered them to take prisoners, these n would have been hacked into pieces without exception.
The rebel rescue operation was a complete failure—they didn’t manage to save a single target, and instead lost all their n.
"Esdeath, take charge of the remaining prisoners," Selene instructed.
"Yes, ma’am!"
...
By this ti, the sky had beco overcast, and a torrential downpour began to fall. The imperial forces had already withdrawn, but so of the townsfolk who had fled earlier began to cautiously return, driven by curiosity. As always, there was no shortage of spectators anywhere in the world.
Among the returning crowd was a tall, rugged man in his thirties with a square face, a deep scar across his cheek, and short brown hair. Dressed simply, he stood silently as he looked at the blood-soaked ruins of the execution platform, where countless bodies lay in heaps.
Although Selene had not issued any orders to prevent the bodies from being collected, nor were there any imperial soldiers guarding the area, no one dared to step forward, even as the rain washed over the scene.
The man’s fists clenched tightly.
Beneath his hood, his face was revealed to be identical to that of Nal, the deputy head of intelligence for the southern rebel forces, who was listed as one of the empire’s assassination targets.
"Damn the empire!" Nal cursed under his breath.
As the second-in-command of the Revolutionary Army’s intelligence departnt, responsible for gathering intelligence on the empire and infiltrating its ranks, Nal had seen the empire’s power vacuum during the old emperor’s illness as a once-in-a-lifeti opportunity. The Revolutionary Army had even allied with the southwestern barbarians to test the empire’s defenses.
Nal had co to Patrypol City with the intention of toppling the empire’s control over the southwestern border, to help the Revolutionary Army continue to grow. He had even managed to win over several local powerful families.
But with Selene’s arrival and the suppression of the rebellion, all his efforts and plans had been destroyed. How could he be content with this outco?
Upon learning that his "noble brothers" were about to be executed in the marketplace, Nal had decided to stage a rescue, regardless of the potential trap.
After all, even if it was a trap, so what? Nal had great confidence in the abilities of his intelligence operatives. After all, hadn’t they easily defeated the empire’s (local garrison) forces in the past, causing them to scatter like rats?
But Nal had clearly misjudged the strength of the Imperial Guard, and the n he brought with him were nearly wiped out.
anwhile, not far from the marketplace, on a high building, a faint glimr of crimson could be seen through a small gap in a window, radiating an ominous aura.
The owner of those blood-red eyes was none other than Selene, who had returned.
Initially, Selene had intended to return to camp and prepare for the upcoming campaign against the southwestern barbarians. However, after so thought, she ca up with a better idea.
She hadn’t caught any "big fish" yet—only small fry. But considering the Revolutionary Army’s commitnt to overthrowing the empire’s oppressive rule, and the strong bonds forged among its mbers through shared life-and-death struggles, it was only logical that so of them would co to mourn their fallen comrades.
So Selene decided it was worth waiting a bit longer to see if any big fish would show up to pay their respects.
Even if none ca, Selene had nothing to lose. And in the end, her gamble paid off.
"The big fish has taken the bait!" she thought, her smile widening.
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