The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 319: Call for your lover

The sun rose over Tekkora’s central square, casting long shadows across a scene of calculated torment. A full day had passed since Eude’s ultimatum, and the merchant lord had proven as ruthless as his reputation suggested. The hundreds of citizens remained huddled in the square, their faces gaunt with hunger and terror. No food, no water, no shelter—only the constant presence of the Crimsan Blades standing guard with weapons drawn.

Eude sat on the edge of the fountain, his posture relaxed despite the horror he orchestrated. His eyes never left Cleora, who remained chained beside her children near the fountain’s base. Throughout the long night, he had alternated between threats and promises, seeking any crack in her resolve that he might exploit.

”You are remarkably stubborn, Baroness,” he said conversationally, as if discussing the weather. ”A full day without food or water for your people. Children crying for their mothers. The elderly are growing weak. Yet still you refuse my generous offer.”

Cleora’s voice was hoarse from thirst, but her defiance burned undimmed. ”I will not deliver these people into slavery for your ambitions.”

”Slavery?” Eude’s laugh was soft and mocking.

”Such harsh words. I prefer to think of it as... purposeful employment. Your people have skills I can use. Your city has resources I require. Why should such assets remain under the control of one too proud to see reason?”

Nora struggled against her chains, her young face twisted with fury. ”You’re a monster. These people deserve better than your cruelty.”

”What they deserve,” Eude replied, his tone hardening, ”is leadership that understands the realities of power. Your mother’s romantic notions of loyalty and independence are luxuries this world cannot afford.”

The morning sun climbed higher, bringing no relief to the suffering crowd. Mothers held crying infants, their own bodies too dehydrated to produce milk. Men stood protectively over their families, watching the guards with hatred they dared not express.

The forge that had once been Tekkora’s pride now stood cold and silent, its workers imprisoned in the square they had once crossed freely.

Eude rose from his seat, his patience finally exhausted. ”I grow weary of this game, Baroness. Perhaps a more direct demonstration will clarify your position.”

He gestured to one of his men, who moved into the crowd with a malicious purpose.

The mercenary’s gaze swept over the huddled families before settling on a woman in her thirties, her brown hair disheveled and her dress torn from the rough handling of the previous day.

She clutched her husband’s hand while their young son pressed close to her side.

”This one,” the mercenary said, his grin revealing yellowed teeth. ”She’ll do nicely for a demonstration.”

The woman’s scream pierced the morning air as rough hands tore her from her family. Her husband lunged forward, only to be driven back by sword points. Their son cried out for his mother, his voice breaking with terror and confusion.

”Please,” the woman begged as she was dragged before Eude. ”I have done nothing wrong. My family—”

”Your family’s fate depends entirely on your baroness,” Eude cut her off.

”She holds the key to ending this suffering.”

The mercenary’s hands moved to the woman’s clothing, tearing at the fabric with deliberate slowness.

Each rip was calculated for maximum psychological impact, designed to break the will of those who watched. The woman’s sobs echoed across the square as she was stripped and humiliated before the eyes of her neighbors.

”Stop this,” Cleora’s voice cracked with anguish.

”She is innocent of any wrongdoing.”

”Innocence is a luxury that the powerless cannot afford,” Eude replied.

”Submit to my authority, and her suffering ends.”

When the woman’s clothes lay in tatters around her feet, the mercenary’s fists began to fall. The woman’s cries grew weaker as blood streamed from her nose and mouth.

”I can end this with a word,” Eude said, his voice carrying false sympathy.

”One word of submission, and she goes free.”

Cleora’s resolve wavered as she watched the innocent woman’s torture. Her chains rattled as she strained against them, desperate to intervene.

But still she did not speak the words Eude wanted to hear.

She knew if she were to break now, it would not just be submitting to Eude; demands would keep coming in, and her people would once again become slaves, which her husband had done in the past.

She looked at the woman who was on the floor, naked, bruised, and crying while looking at her, but her eyes weren’t weak. Both women were aware of the consequences, but neither of them was speaking.

The mercenary pulled her up, making her stand. She covered herself with her hands.

”See your child and husband,” that man held her hair and said, ”you want them to see you get ravaged by me?”

That woman shook her head uncontrollably, saying no.

Cleora was still not budging. She looked at Eude with an expressionless face.

Eude stared at her, thinking that she wouldn’t budge for her people.

”Very well,” Eude sighed, as if disappointed by her stubbornness.

”Let us discuss the future of Tekkora under my rule. The women will serve my soldiers in whatever capacity pleases them. The men will work the mines and forges until their bodies fail. Your city’s prosperity will fund my expansion across the empire.”

He turned his cold gaze to Nora, whose young face had gone pale with horror. ”Your daughter shows promise. She will make a fine addition to my personal collection. As will you, Baroness, once your pride has been properly... adjusted.”

Eude wanted to make them submit without shedding any blood, but it doesn’t look like they would.

The systematic brutality continued as the sun climbed higher.

When the woman finally collapsed, broken and barely breathing, Eude ordered his men to select new victims. The elderly were dragged forward—those too weak to work, too frail to be useful for his purposes.

”These ones serve no purpose in my new order,” he announced.

”Let their deaths remind you of the cost of defiance.”

The first blade fell, ending the life of an old man who had spent decades crafting beautiful furniture for his neighbors. His wife’s scream was cut short by a second blade. Then a third victim, and a fourth.

”Stop!” Cleora’s voice broke as she watched her people die.

”Please, I beg you—”

”Then submit,” Eude commanded.

”One word, and the killing stops.”

But even as her heart shattered, Cleora could not bring herself to condemn her people to slavery. The chains that bound her wrists seemed lighter than the weight of such a betrayal.

The slaughter continued.

Five elderly victims, then six, then seven.

Each death was slow and deliberate, designed to maximize the psychological impact on the watching crowd. Blood pooled around the fountain where children had once played, turning the clear water red.

”Jolthar!” Cleora’s voice cracked into a desperate shriek, her once-composed exterior now shattered, the terror unfolding before her eyes far too great to bear. Her hands trembled, her knees buckled, and still—she called out. ”Please...!”

Eude raised a brow, briefly startled. ”What? Is he here?”

He turned theatrically, scanning the ruined chamber around them. No sign of the boy. No flash of him. No savior.

He chuckled cruelly, stepping closer to her. ”Are you calling for him?”

His voice slithered with mockery. ”Call him again, then. Go on. Scream for him. Maybe your precious lover will crawl out from the shadows.”

Cleora’s lips quivered. She clutched her chest, as if holding her heart from breaking. She whispered his name, again and again, breathless— ”Jolthar... Jolthar...”

Eude leaned in, eyes glinting. ”Louder, girl. Come on. Cry it out. Let’s see how far your voice carries.”

And then—

She raised her head to the sky, and with everything she had, she screamed.

”JOLTHAR!!”

The name ripped through the square, a wail soaked in anguish and raw hope. The walls seemed to hold their breath. The scream was louder than anyone had anticipated; even Nora and Roblan were taken aback. It was like a war cry.

Even the wind outside stilled.

Eude blinked, taken aback by the echo.

Then... something stirred.