Chapter 175 General
The waiting time was long. The faint cries and wails of the slaves in the other cells, accompanied by the sound of the wind, penetrated into the ears.
Nova gathered the straw into a ball so that he could sit more comfortably. Then he suddenly felt a tightness on his waist and a heaviness on his shoulders. He frowned and turned his head, only to see someone hugging him from behind, with their face resting affectionately on his shoulder.
The other person's hands were naturally wrapped around him, groping under the cloak to find his shackled hands, and his fingers casually slipped into the gap between the shackles and the skin, gently stroking the skin that was cold from being worn by the iron with his warm fingertips.
Before the professor could struggle, he heard the guy whisper in his ear: "I don't like it here."
I guess he was recalling the painful memories of the past.
Nova was silent for a moment: "...I don't like it either."
He had no penchant for appreciating the screams of his own kind, nor did he praise the shamelessness of the atavistic phenomenon of slavery.
The professor silently pulled out a hand and quickly patted the other person's hair, which resulted in some dried mud and water debris being patted off. The black-haired young man seemed to freeze for a moment, then silently retracted his hand under his warm cloak.
Fortunately, Her Royal Highness the Princess did not seem to notice this scene. She just held her enemy's hand in her palm again, and stubbornly used her body temperature to isolate him from the coldness of the iron.
"I know that guy." he said suddenly.
The professor was stunned: "You mean Graven?"
Because he couldn't see the other person's face just now, he thought that the person's pulse was gradually accelerating because his tolerance for dirt had reached its limit.
"Slave General Greven." The Savior's voice was emotionless. "He was once your first general and the Scarlet Tyrant's most loyal subordinate."
It once caused many near-fatal crises to the protagonists.
Aside from knowing he was once a lowly slave, no one knew anything about this taciturn general. He always bore the huge, ugly slave mark on his face, signifying the lowest class of slaves. But when he wielded his heavy sword, he was like a moving, rust-colored colossus on the battlefield, boiling hot metal in the tyrant's bloodthirsty name.
"He fought the Royal City troops defending the Royal City at Amacadio, charging with hundreds of horned camels. Those beasts, blinded by branding and infused with a berserker potion, could only charge forward. Once they broke through the city gates, they trampled the Royal City cavalry like crazy, tearing them apart with their horns and crushing them to a pulp with their hooves. Greven, however, remained atop a horned camel, the purple flames of the magic light cannon exploding on him like seawater crashing onto a cliff face. Only the rusty crimson flag fluttered in the air."
The royal army that chose to be loyal to Cassius II and Queen Esmeralda was almost completely slaughtered by this army led by slaves. However, in the mouths of the bards, the victorious slave general was just silent, his boots stained with brain matter rolled over the broken staff, his blood-stained cloak swept over the still twitching corpse, and the tip of the heavy sword dug a smelly gully in the charred soil. And he just bowed slightly to the tyrant he was loyal to at the end of the road paved with weapon fragments and enemy corpses.
He didn't kneel. In fact, he never knelt under any circumstances, not even at the tyrant's coronation. This was a key argument for both sides, who believed he was disloyal to the tyrant—a suspicion shattered by the story of the slave general Greven, who, in order to stop the rebels from breaking through the royal city, stood alone at the gates of Amacatio for seven hours until he was pierced through the chest by the savior who had arrived.
But even though there was a big hole in the chest and the heart had long been minced into meat paste, the corpse was still leaning on the heavy sword, with his head slightly lowered, standing loyally at the only entrance to the royal city, which made many soldiers hesitate for a long time and dared not move forward.
...But they didn't expect that the notorious slave general Greven would meet them again in this way.
Nova frowned slowly: "If I remember correctly, the black blood mark can be removed."
As long as the power of the person who breaks the curse is greater than that of the person who cast the curse.
"Yes, but the slave mark on his face was carved with a knife, and one of his eyes was blinded." Azuka lowered his eyes, gazing at the charred bricks and stones of the dungeon, a color stained by the blood of countless slaves. "Also, someone cast a forbidden spell on his soul, which means his facial wound will never heal."
The other man was silent for a moment, then slowly said, "...It seems that no matter what he wanted to do, the slave resistance he formed in Port Morris has completely failed."
One of the harsh punishments was the slave mark that could never be erased.
Late at night, when Greven appeared in the cell, he was quite surprised to find that the black-haired slave's smoky gray eyes were sparkling in the moonlight. The other party did not seem to be asleep, as if... he was waiting for him.
"...You don't seem surprised at all."
"You need me." The cell door was ajar. The professor sat lazily on the ground, looking up at him. His previous expression of panic and despair was completely gone. "If you want to organize a complete riot, you need information about the Gold Bazaar—and I will definitely enter the Gold Bazaar."
Greven's pupils shrank violently for a moment, and he suddenly grabbed the man's collar and lifted him up.
"Who are you?" he asked coldly, the muscles in his arms tensed and veins bulging.
...It seems a little too light, this guy. Greven couldn't help but be distracted for a moment, but he quickly came back to his senses and stared at the smoky gray eyes that reflected him like a silver mirror with an extremely cold look.
"I am a slave now." He calmly waved his hand behind his back, stopping someone from charging. The professor simply grabbed the other person's wrist with his backhand, and the iron chain collided with his wrist, making a crisp sound.
"Greven, you will fail." He stared into the man's amber eyes without emotion, and made an extremely cold judgment. At this moment, the man's emotional changes were completely visible in his eyes: surprise, suspicion, vigilance, murderous intent, curiosity...
Greven frowned and was about to say something when the black-haired slave suddenly looked behind him. His warrior instincts made him quickly release the other's collar and duck down to avoid a powerful punch.
"Hey, let him go!"
The red-haired girl glared angrily at the tall, muscular young slave, warily standing in front of the professor. She felt her fists trembling with excitement. How could Azuka, a warrior of considerable strength, remain motionless?
...Wait, Marcylin suddenly felt guilty and secretly glanced at the black-haired young man behind her - his face was expressionless, and no emotion could be seen - she wouldn't ruin Mr. Nova's plan, right?
"What's going on?"
Hearing that she was looking for a companion, he brought his savior along with him and found out that "Ashes" in the dungeon rushed over, looking at the confrontation between the red-haired girl and Greven in a daze.
The professor poked his head out from behind Maxine and saw that there were Daba people among the slaves who came over, and he quickly understood what was happening.
He couldn't help but blink slowly.
...This was a little beyond his expectations.
Unexpectedly, the heroine would be so lucky as to run into a slave resistance force that was probably trying to rescue their fellow slaves and relatives. However, he quickly adjusted his plan again and directly deleted a few steps.
Over there, after Greven quickly learned from his companions what had happened, the look in his eyes when he looked at him became much more complicated.
"It seems we need to have a peaceful conversation." The professor stood up and patted the straw on his body. "I don't think the dungeon is the right place?"
He raised his chin slightly and looked calmly at this... "tyrant's most loyal and bloodthirsty lackey", while the two protagonists were standing silently beside the tyrant.
…
After leaving the Crimson Bazaar, Orel immediately discarded his slave trader disguise. No matter how many times he came here, he always felt a strong physical discomfort with some things. If he said a few more words, he would not be able to help but dig out the red snake's disgusting and sticky eyes with his scimitar.
...I really don't know how his good friend can endure it.
A crow circled above his head. The assassin stretched out his hand, and the dark bird immediately swooped down, grasped his fingers, and extended a claw modestly.
This time, he didn't forget to pay the crow's "reward." Just as Orel was reading the letter, someone suddenly tried to pat his shoulder from behind. Without even turning back, the assassin leader grabbed the other person's wrist. Daniga, whose sneak attack had failed, suddenly screamed, "Boss! It's going to break! It's going to break... Ouch! Boss, I was wrong!"
Ole snorted coldly, loosened his hand, and looked at the boy coldly as he hissed and rubbed his wrist.
He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow: "Why, has everything been arranged at Baita University?"
The other party and some Shadow Chasers did not leave Baita Town with him, insisting on finishing the remaining work at Baita University - also a task assigned by the tyrant - before leaving. He, the real boss of the Shadow Chasers, was actually quite upset about this, but these young people called him boss, but they were not completely obedient to his subordinates.
"It's all taken care of!" Daniga boasted proudly, "Don't you think about who I am? Once I take action, it will be easy to catch them. Boss, you don't know, when I was about to leave, those students, townspeople, and that kid Adrian, looked like they were about to cry -"
Seeing his boss staring at him with a half-smile, he immediately softened and smiled as he leaned over to pinch the other's shoulder: "Of course, this is also due to your good teaching."
"By the way, where's the professor?" Daniga looked around. "Didn't he come to Port Morris with you?"
"As a local, I have to show the professor around!" he said cheerfully. "I know all the good food and fun places here!"
Ole was silent for a moment. "He should be in the dungeon of Rusty Iron Market now."
Daniga: “…”
Daniga pupil earthquake.
This kind of "travel" is totally unnecessary, right?!
His boss over there was still frowning and criticizing him: "Why are you also following those students from Baita University and calling him professor?"
It was creepy, and it always reminded him of someone calling someone "Professor" all the time.
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