louisehourcade Chapter 236: The Fate of Whitefall (02)
Chapter 236: The Fate of Whitefall (02)
The Whitefall guards, who moments earlier had thrown their weapons, armor, and shields to the ground, watched with heavy eyes as everything dissolved into tiny fragments of light, flowing toward Ethan like a shimmering river.
[You have successfully absorbed 3,342 assorted items + 40,000 gold coins.
Calculating...
1x Rank A talent generated!
12x Rank B talent generated!
312x Rank C talent generated!
1,349x Rank D talent generated!
1,668x Rank E talent generated!]
Without hesitation, Ethan began fusing all the talents into higher-rank versions, one after another.
At the end, he was left with twenty-nine Rank A talents and one Rank B talent.
Not content with that, The young Lord fused another twenty-five of his Grade A talents, leaving him with five Grade S talents, which he then fused into a single Grade SS talent, along with four Grade A talents and one Grade B talent.
That ability was, in essence, a factory for unparalleled geniuses.
All he had to do was defeat armies, gather the thousands of pieces of equipment scattered across the bodies of fallen soldiers, and convert it all directly into high-level talents.
The only downside was that the more items it absorbed in a month, the worse its return became, though fortunately this reset every month.
Letting out a light excited sigh, Ethan looked up.
"Has the population of Whitefall been gathered?" he asked, turning to one of the third-stage warriors of the Goldenveil guard.
"Yes, my lord. Two thousand people in total. Some managed to escape, but we decided not to waste time chasing them. Almost all of them are women and children."
Hearing that, Ethan nodded gravely.
During the journey, his troop had captured several deserting soldiers and interrogated them thoroughly, so he was already well aware of Whitefall’s general situation.
A large portion of the female, elderly, and child population had perished during the winter due to lack of food, despite the warehouses being crammed with supplies.
When winter finally gave way, nearly all men of fighting age, from fifteen to sixty, had been dragged into the army and forced to march against Goldenveil.
In the end, only about four hundred men remained in the entire city.
Shaking his head, Ethan walked with heavy steps toward the central gate of Whitefall, where he found the townspeople eating voraciously.
The warehouses had been opened, and since there was no way to carry all that stock with them, the guards had decided to distribute the food among the starving population.
After all, the journey to Goldenveil would be long, and everyone would need their strength to endure it.
The moment Ethan’s figure appeared before them, the entire population of Whitefall stopped eating, looking up at him with a confused mix of emotions.
Some felt fear, others harbored hope, but a suffocating uncertainty weighed on them all.
"Whitefall will end today," Ethan said coldly, his voice cutting through the silence. "All of you will be taken to Goldenveil, where you can start new lives. Or, to be more specific, almost all of you."
The young Lord paused briefly, letting the weight of his words settle before continuing.
"All those who participated in the murder and cannibalism of elves and dwarves during the winter, step forward."
The moment his voice echoed through the air, the entire crowd shuddered, a collective chill running through them.
For long moments, no one moved, merely exchanging anxious glances.
"Don’t make me start counting," the young Lord continued, his patience clearly wearing thin.
Technically, it wasn’t cannibalism, but elves and dwarves were human enough that he didn’t care about the distinction.
After long seconds of hesitation, the more than two thousand people began to purge their own ranks, pushing over two hundred individuals forward.
These were herded into a separate area, shoulders trembling and faces pale with fear.
They had seen elves fighting alongside Ethan’s army. Did those bastards want revenge?
Ethan watched them coldly for a long moment, then slowly raised his hand.
Around him, the guards drew their swords as one, the metallic ring of the blades tearing through the heavy silence that hung in the air.
When Ethan’s hand dropped, there was no hesitation whatsoever.
Amid screams laden with despair and fear, the blades came crashing down.
Within seconds, more than two hundred bodies lay sprawled on the ground, the thick, iron stench of blood spreading through the warm air of early summer.
’Ah... my Earth self would probably be disgusted by who I am now,’ Ethan thought, smiling bitterly, though he didn’t let the thought take root in his mind.
He was no longer on Earth.
"Why did they die?" he asked in a cold tone, turning back to the silent crowd.
After long minutes of hesitation, one of the citizens, a woman in her fifties, finally mustered the courage to answer.
"Because they devoured elves and dwarves."
"Yes, but not just that," Ethan said, shaking his head. "They died, above all, because they were animals.
No citizen of Goldenveil, no matter how great their fear or despair, must stoop to the level of an animal. No citizen of Goldenveil must abandon their humanity.
The moment they surrendered to cannibalism, they abandoned their humanity. I did not order the killing of humans. I ordered the slaughter of pigs.
When you arrive in Goldenveil, you will live in a society where discrimination is punished without mercy, whether it is them against you or you against them.
Do not be, nor act like, animals."
Upon hearing those words, the people of Whitefall bowed their heads in unison, no one daring to disagree.
Ethan knew there were flaws in his reasoning, but that mattered little.
If those people didn’t have the courage to devour other humans during the winter, why did they feel comfortable devouring elves and dwarves?
For his multiracial society to function, he needed to use that scum as an example, ensuring that no one else dared to follow the same path.
With a long sigh, Ethan looked up at the sky, observing the sun’s position.
"Rest well. We’ll leave in two hours," he said, closing his eyes for a moment and letting the warm wind brush against his face.
Finally, it was over.
Alistair was dead and now, with summer’s arrival, it was time to return to forging his prosperous Goldenveil.