Pioneering

Chapter 186

Lonely souls walked back and forth on the streets of Budapest. These survivors and prisoners of war lingered in the ruins, under the supervision of the Warrior Legion, trying to find living people and usable supplies.

The once beautiful and magnificent church is now only ruins.

In the empty square, there are dilapidated statues and stone pillars.

Ryan looked at the devastation, frowned unconsciously, kicked away a block of tile fragments that were in the way, and fanned the wind with his right hand, slightly dispelling the heat wave that had not dissipated in the city.

Salter used this square as a temporary command center.

After a brief chat with Salter, Ryan took the unicorn and the "Golden Guard" back into hiding.

Obviously, this young man whose innocence has not completely dissipated has some complaints about Salt's extremely brutal city-burning tactics.

The captured nobles of Andrea and Asia were also naturally handed over to Sartre.

A soldier with a mustache pushed Kures bluntly, motioning him to step forward quickly and wait for General Sart's instructions.

However, the nobles whose wrists and ankles were pierced by the unicorn's light spell had only roughly stopped the bleeding. If they hadn't relied on their strong physique, they might not have been able to walk.

With a casual push from the soldier, Kures was pushed down and landed on all fours in shame.

Kures tried hard to get rid of this humiliating posture, but the fall tore the wound again, and he couldn't use his strength after struggling, so he had to turn his head and stare at the soldier fiercely.

"Kures!" Seeing his friend in distress, Viscount Crowe wanted to help him up, but his painful wrists and ankles, as well as the soldiers watching him behind him, told him no.

"Your Excellency, we demand reasonable treatment of prisoners of war." Viscount Crow looked straight at Salt and said righteously, "It is against the usual practice for your army to treat prisoners so rudely."

"puff-"

Sartre sneered, pointed to the central castle not far from the church and the square, pointed to the black smoke that was still coming out and the captives who were desperately rescuing supplies, and asked:
"There is no such thing as burning supplies before defeat in the noble tradition, right?"

"This—" the nobles looked at each other.

Viscount Narlit struggled to cover the wound on his wrist, and saluted, "There must be a misunderstanding. When we left, we definitely did not burn supplies."

Viscount Crowe also came back to his senses at this time, and argued: "Yes, in the name of the gods, we really didn't set fire to the supplies."

Salt smiled disdainfully: "Why, you mean it was an accidental fire? Guess I believe it or not?"

"...Even if you don't believe me, we can bring you a generous ransom and give you some preferential treatment. There is no harm in it." Viscount Crowe said.

Sart spread his hands and said:

"Okay, you pay all the spoils in this castle, which I Asshai deserves, and pay a regular ransom, and I will let you go, how about it?"

Who can afford that?

Originally, the ransom among the nobles was not a small amount, and Andreouya had to pay for the huge amount of war preparations hoarded here, and these little nobles couldn't afford it even if they cleaned it up and drew blood to sell it!

"Your Mightiness……"

Crowe wanted to say something, but Salter waved his hand, and the soldiers blocked their mouths with rags.

"Since you can't afford it, don't blame me for 'making the best use of everything, and making the best use of people'." Sart spread his hands and said to himself.

At this moment, a strong man with a scarred face walked up to Sartre nodding and bowing his head: "My lord, all the supplies rescued here have been sent to the church for you."

The nobles who had their mouths covered looked at him, faltering, and fidgeting.

"Very good, 'Mad Axe', right?" Salt nodded with satisfaction and asked.

"A nickname, it's just a nickname, sir, just call me Raymond." The burly man with the scar face did not dare to take it seriously, and replied in a low voice.

Salt's eyes flashed red: "Do you want to live?"

The strong man fell to his knees with a plop: "Yes, of course I want to, my lord, we can do whatever you say, let us brothers go."

Sart patted him on the shoulder: "We Yasha follow the rules, as long as you can afford the ransom, we will definitely let you go.

You should have heard it just now, you guys can't afford to pay for this batch of spoils.

What's more, no matter which country, mercenaries, if they are killed, they will be killed, right? "

The brawny man was taken aback, and looked at Salt pleadingly.

"However," Sart said with a "friendly" smile, "We in Asshai have a proverb called 'He who knows the current affairs is a hero', and you are a hero in my eyes!

I have always admired the extremely cooperative captives of your Tomahawk Mercenary Corps.

I decided to give you a way out and give you a chance to join us! "

"Thank you, my lord..." The strong man's face brightened, and he was about to flatter.

Salt interrupted him with a wave of his hand, and said, "However, everything has a price. Being a robber and killing people is a certificate of honor. I also have requirements for you."

"My lord, please say, as long as we can do it, we must do it with all our strength."

"It's not too difficult," Salter said, pointing to the nobles who were bound tightly, "See if these people are there, I want one of you to give them a knife.

Don't cut it hard, I want all those who surrender and want to live, give them a knife! "

Raymond's face turned pale in an instant, and the nobles on the ground also squirmed more intensely.

Killing nobles on the battlefield is barely manageable, after all, swords have no eyes.

After the war, slaughtering the nobles and captives was truly audacious!

"Aren't you joking, my lord? Killing prisoners after the war, you can't justify it with the king, you will be..."

Sartre said with a look of surprise:
"Oh, what are you talking about?
Could it be that your Tomahawk mercenary group and our Ashali teamed up to attack and kill all the nobles in the city.

Did this lead to Budapest falling into my hands so easily? "

As Salt said, a group of extremely corrosive dark energy was condensed in his right hand, and he stared at Raymood unkindly.

Raymond knew that if he dared to say "no", he would be dead on the spot in the next moment, and the mercenary group he had worked so hard to form would never end well!
The batch of embryo killers in front of me can really do anything!

He has to carry this blame if he doesn't want to!
"It doesn't matter, being liquidated by the nobles is a matter of the future, and every day counts as a day!"

Thinking of this, Remode Zhanwei took the knife handed over by an Yashai warrior, slowly approached Kures, raised the knife in his hand, closed his eyes and chopped down...

The emotional Viscount Crowe squirmed, and even wiped the rag out of his mouth: "Untouchable! Raymond, you #@￥#...you dare to attack nobles..."

Listening to the cursing in his ears, Layton recalled how arrogant these nobles were these days, how many times his brothers had suffered and made things difficult for the nobles, and how his nagging mother had been raped by his mother. The noble father led his men to play tricks to death, and he suffered as an illegitimate child...

Layton's eyes were red, he turned around angrily, waved his hand and chopped the knife heavily on Viscount Crowe's handsome face.

Seeing that Layton smashed the pot and wanted to continue chopping down, Salter quickly stopped him.

Subsequently, all prisoners of war were asked to slash these nobles.

Obedient, live!
Those who disobey will die!
After beheading dozens of captives who dared not step forward to offend the noble lord, the remaining captives all chose to submit under great fear and pressure of survival.

Looking at these prisoners of war who looked like tigers coming out of their cages like freshmen, Salt knew that a batch of useful cannon fodder had arrived!
(End of this chapter)