Chapter 28 The General Retreats from the Battlefield Even if it's just imagining Elsa's smile...
"Please show me around the neighborhood?" The girl rode gracefully towards us on a white horse.
The noblewoman was as beautiful as a fawn in the forest, but McGonagall felt her heart stop and cold sweat pour down her face.
What to do? What to do? Our perfectly planned scheme is about to fall apart!
She turned around stiffly, forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace: "Haha, sir...it's my pleasure."
McGonagall, of course, would not refuse Eleanor's "request," as she knew the market's structure better than anyone else.
Locked doors, hidden doors, underground passages... even the traffickers had unfamiliar routes. Only she, who had planned to lead everyone to escape from the very beginning, painstakingly investigated and figured out every single detail.
Unlike the mountain people who were violently captured by slave teams, McGonagall grew up in this stagnant environment from the very beginning.
She was a slave born of a slave, a commodity from childhood.
She moved freely through the market with the little princess and the group of silent guards behind her.
The path she chose allowed her to easily see every cage around her without having to venture deep inside. This was to avoid accidentally soiling the hem of the noblewoman's skirt with any newly formed dirt—even if Her Highness might not be willing to dismount.
Even a natural product like McGonagall possesses a yearning for freedom.
When she grew into a bright and discerning young woman, she immediately chose to join the ranks of the war slaves, using her naturally strong physique to fight for her precious freedom.
McGonagall longs for a glamorous life, ideally earning enough money and even having a happy family.
However, this seemingly ordinary yet extravagant idea was soon shattered.
McGonagall was clever and "connected," and she discovered a fact earlier than the other slaves: the freedom they wanted could only be the freedom that the slave owners were willing to grant them.
The slaves who are most skilled in combat and the most hardworking are not the ones who are released first.
Those who are granted amnesty often "freely" choose to serve their new masters again after "regaining their freedom".
Why?! Are we destined to live like this forever?
McGonagall was unwilling but there was nothing she could do until another group of people slowly gathered around her.
She couldn't remember who had started it; perhaps it was Salin, perhaps a persistent companion, or perhaps it was herself.
In short, a group of slaves who met on the battlefield and training grounds quietly broke through the limitations of masters, regions and nationalities, and tacitly confirmed each other's feelings through various exchanges.
We want freedom, true freedom.
This is too difficult; one person can't do it alone. Let's work together.
They set the time and place in a break in a war, in a well-connected metropolis.
As time went on, the target gradually became the royal city of Norlana, which was a very suitable area.
According to the original plan, they would start the uprising at dusk, trying to kill only slave owners and henchmen who were unwilling to participate.
Immediately afterwards, everyone split into two groups. Most of them, along with the slave legion stationed outside, attacked the city gate from the inside and then quickly left.
A small number of wounded, immobile, and elderly slaves would leave through the tunnels built by the merchants and escape separately outside the city to draw away some of the pursuers.
They wouldn't be foolish enough to attack the Nolana Palace; they would only need to deal with the city guards and noble private soldiers for a short period of time as they ran from the inside out.
According to McGonagall, slave owners, officials, and women are all human beings, and human beings have the instinct to fear their superiors.
The officials certainly wanted to suppress the news and try to quell the rebellion themselves first, thus reducing their responsibility for inadequate oversight.
If a slave manages to escape, they might even take the initiative to suppress the slave owner and tell the servants to be careful and not spread any rumors!
This idea is very comforting, but when the time comes, everyone is still uneasy: what if something unexpected happens?
...Now we don't need to worry anymore.
“My lord, you see, these iron cages are filled with dangerous slaves.” McGonagall said with a smile as she tried to lead the princess toward the central display area.
Keep in mind that the slaves who wanted to escape were actively making preparations everywhere. If someone were to discover one or two key points, who knows how they would be able to salvage the situation.
Moreover, the existence of the princess is a huge threat in itself. Once the princess is in danger, even the most powerful officials cannot cover it up and will have to slink to the palace and kowtow in shame.
When that time comes, the army will pounce like a pack of wolves, and everyone will die—and die a horrible death, stuck to the ground and impossible to remove.
Just recognizing this point might make people give up immediately.
McGonagall clenched her fist secretly.
She really didn't want to give up at the last minute; who could be willing to do that?
But she had to find an opportunity to get the message out and discuss with all the squad leaders before noon whether to do it or not.
Wow, she's so tall!
The little princess gasped in surprise, and McGonagall quickly chimed in, "Yes, yes, our slaves here are all top-quality..."
She bit her lip as soon as she spoke: "Isn't Salin the most eye-catching tall guy in the exhibition area?!"
McGonagall stared nervously at the princess's face, praying frantically in her heart.
Please, please don't buy Salin! Everyone's about to rebel; what are you trying to do by buying the leader?!
"Hey~" Things seem to be getting worse.
The little princess was very interested in the tall giant. She jumped off her horse with a "hey!" and circled the cage.
Eleanor poked the cage with her finger and asked curiously, "What's your name?"
"...Salin."
The giant sitting in the cage raised his head.
She initially wanted to act wild and untamed, banging on the cage to scare away troublesome customers, but the girl in front of her had clear eyes... and wasn't unpleasant at all.
“Okay, I’ve got it.” Eleanor smiled slightly as she looked at the purple characters gradually forming above Salin’s head; she had finally seen the name after missing it twice.
She turned and raised her voice towards the area full of tents, "I want to buy this person. Name your price!"
Oh, this.
Salin and McGonagall exchanged dumbfounded glances: She didn't even give us a chance to act, how could she be so capricious!
McGonagall quickly put on a sycophantic smile and went to Eleanor's side to persuade her, "My lady, this slave is clumsy and stupid, he hasn't been trained properly yet, oh?!"
Crack!
A whip lashed out from behind, striking McGonagall viciously on the shoulder.
"Get back!" An old woman with a scar on her face walked over. She had personally lashed the whip, so fast and hard that she had injured her own hand in the process.
The burly thugs following behind the old man didn't dare to approach, standing in the corner with their heads down and arms folded like chicks.
Scarface Donnie shooed McGonagall away and stood a few steps away from the little princess.
Even as the noble girls drew their swords and pointed them at her, she showed no displeasure whatsoever, remaining completely submissive.
"grown ups."
Doni knew his face was menacing, so he didn't laugh. Instead, he said gently, "Everything here belongs to the great king—and to you. Whatever you desire, we will ensure that her best qualities are brought out."
Scar-eyed Doni.
When Eleanor saw the old man, her eyes were filled with complex emotions for a moment.
She certainly knew Donny, the owner of Norlanna's largest slave army.
This person was less a slave trader and more like a mercenary commander who treated her members like dirt. She handled the slave trade simply to more easily select potential soldiers.
Eleanor disliked her and any of the slave traders.
However, in her previous life, she and this leader did indeed have a long-term cooperative relationship.
The reason is simple: Doni, as a warmonger, was just too useful.
In her previous life, Eleanor had many followers who could serve as officers, so she bought and accepted many excellent veterans from Donnie.
Andra, needless to say, relied heavily on Enlin and the slave legion for manpower before she fully ruled Hetuya.
Donnie is blind in one eye, but his vision is extremely sharp.
Like everyone else, she immediately recognized the extraordinary nature of the couple, generously placed her bets in advance, and completely surrendered after Andra's repeated victories.
Donnie did not relax her guard after submitting; she keenly sensed the shift in the wind: Angie was extremely disgusted by the existence of slavery, while Anya's authoritarian rule allowed her to forcefully implement some decisions that were "not so in line with the times."
So the aging Donny wisely retired, becoming the only major slave owner to completely extricate himself from the clutches of the storm.
She not only voluntarily disbanded all her legions and unconditionally released all her goods, but also encouraged her other friends to follow suit.
This strong support accelerated the disintegration of slavery in the country, which can be considered a help to Eleanor.
Eleanor's second connection to Donnie is through Donnie's youngest daughter, Elsa.
He was a very, very lovely young man.
Little Elsa met them seven years later during the civil war in the capital.
Instead of running away with Doni beforehand, she went against the flow of people to find her and Andra.
The girl's long hair danced wildly in the wind as she rode a fiery red steed, shouting, "Your Highness, I want to go with you—"
After she charged out with them, Eleanor earnestly asked Elsa why she did it, even though they were complete strangers.
Little Elsa's initial answer was very serious.
"I met Your Highness and Lord Andra a few years ago, and I was filled with admiration then... The two of you are like figures from a myth, and I want to become a part of that legend!"
It wasn't until much later that this no longer young man spoke softly beside her, who was frail and ill.
"...Sister, you are the first person I have ever met who is unwilling to whip slaves or scold commoners, yet still manages to win their hearts. So I was very curious about you."
"Are you still curious?" Angie, who was lying on the bed, suppressed a cough and gently stroked her forehead.
In countries where slavery has been abolished, former beneficiaries shake their heads with smiles.
Even just imagining Elsa's smile made Eleanor smile back, which relieved Donnie in front of her.
The little princess walked up to the cage and patted it. "Okay, so how much do I need to pay to redeem her?"
Doni didn't offer to deliver it directly, but instead quoted a very favorable price: "100 gold coins will suffice for you."
100 gold coins can buy 10 strong adult slaves, which is far from enough for a noble blood giant. This is Doni's undisguised show of goodwill.
Eleanor nodded. "Alright, my mother just gifted me a large estate. I'm short-handed here, so we can talk properly in the tent. As for her... have someone take her outside first; my men will keep a close eye on her."
"Yes." Donnie walked ahead respectfully.
Eleanor watched her retreating figure, silently planning her next move.
Judging from the outcome of her past life, Donnie lived a long time into the future, which suggests that today's events were likely resolved quickly because of her.
Now that I've sent Salin away ahead of time and indirectly taken control of Doni... where will things go from here?
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Author's Note: Eleanor: I really don't know which of you is behind this. I'll withdraw both generals and see how the game unfolds. [Cat emoji]
In this way, even if Eleanor doesn't know who the assassin is or whether he exists, she can force him to make a move in a conspicuous and open area with minimal backtracking.
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