Warhammer Divine Throne

Chapter 1393: Chapter 593: Suppressing the Rebellion

The tide had turned, and the rebel leader Alan hesitated for a moment, then immediately handed his weapon to Remon, requesting to surrender.

The anti-rebel troops were somewhat unwilling, but Juan remembered Laine’s guidance; seeing the rebel leader surrender, he decided decisively to allow it.

The battle thus ended. Under the stern gaze of the Old Guard and the local nobles, the rebellious peasants came out from their strongholds in groups of three to five, kneeling and surrendering.

The demands of the anti-rebel troops were strict; aside from clothes, bedding, and some pots and pans, no weapons were allowed, not even suspicious items like hoes or pitchforks. All gold, silver, jewels, and items with religious significance were also to be handed over.

Anyone caught concealing items would face immediate execution without exception.

Though the order was very strict, the rebellious peasants actually felt relieved upon hearing it.

Because with such high demands and strict orders, it didn’t seem like they were going to kill prisoners, for if the Master Knights were truly intent on killing prisoners, it wouldn’t be so troublesome with so many steps.

The anti-rebel troops set up a prisoner camp, where dozens of big pots were put up, ready to cook food for these rebellious peasants.

Juan originally planned to give the rebellious peasants black bread, but Count Durin and Count Larot immediately objected, believing that although the rebellious peasants had their reasons, they were simply not worthy of black bread. Just keeping them from starving was sufficient; besides, if these peasants ate too much and gained strength, what if they resisted again?

Juan thought about it and found reason in their argument; prisoners indeed didn’t need such good treatment.

In the big pots, porridge was being cooked—and not the fragrant, oily kind enjoyed by the army—but rather a thin porridge made from stale grains and some leftover warehouse grains (chestnuts, dried beans, oak fruits, and ferns) mixed with chopped leaves, boiled directly into a watery porridge without a drop of oil, and very thin!

Yet for the rebellious peasants, this was already supreme delicacy.

The scent of porridge drifted in the summer air, and the rebellious peasants, smelling this aroma, nearly buckled at the knees. Unkempt, gaunt, and ragged, they gathered slowly, from fierce young men to the old, weak, sick, and women and children. Many women even had no clothes, exposing themselves no matter how hard they tried to cover, filled with shame and anger.

In the Old Guard camp, the rebel leader Alan was captured and taken to the camp for interrogation. He candidly revealed everything, only pleading incessantly with Juan not to kill prisoners, offering his own life for everyone else’s.

Having followed Laine for some time, Juan had learned much. Outwardly looking very troubled, he observed Alan’s long pleas before reluctantly agreeing to spare these rebellious peasants.

At the moment Juan relented, the rebel leader knelt in front of everyone in the camp, crying uncontrollably.

Conveniently, Remon was a fellow townsman of Alan, so Juan had Remon take him to eat something.

Remon brought Alan into the camp of the Old Guard, found a spot to sit down. With shackles on his ankles, knowing causing trouble would only harm the two thousand fellow brothers and sisters outside, the rebel leader sighed deeply, taking a bowl of thin porridge from Remon: ”Long time no see... So, you’ve become Old Guard? You brought the Master Knights here! Brought them to defeat us?!”

Remon remained silent. The playmate of childhood sat before him, so familiar yet so estranged. They had once played together, ventured into the forest to pick wild fruits, and fished in the streams; growing up, they also served the Master Knights together.

On that night of rebellion, Alan chose to resist while Remon chose to escape.

Different choices forged the different paths of their futures. Reuniting, Remon was already an Old Guard, with distinguished achievements, clad in half plate armor, wielding a Dwarf Masterwork Long Halberd, with a sword at his waist, and polished leather boots—showing no trace of a peasant.

”Rake is dead.” Remon paused, suddenly said, ”Do you remember him?”

”What about his two sisters?” Alan was stunned for a moment.

”Also dead, died on the road of escape, killed by Beastmen. My mom and brother almost died too.” Remon said with some sadness, ”It’s not easy for anyone, Alan.”

”...Ah, yes, it’s not easy for anyone. I became a rebel, facing hanging; you became a runaway, facing hanging too!” The rebel leader gritted his teeth, ”Anyway, death was certain—not resisting or fleeing—you survived, and I survived, and that’s enough!”

”Alan, why did you...” Remon hesitated.

”Why?! You’re asking me why?!” Upon hearing this, Alan’s expression grew agitated, almost cursing, ”What choice did I have when I couldn’t survive? Barely anything to eat, what do you expect us to do? Watch ourselves starve to death?”

The chains of the shackles clattered.

Seeing his hysterical look, Remon suddenly felt fortunate, grateful for his choice, for fleeing, fleeing to Duke Laine’s territory, where he began to live a good life.

Alan also realized that what sat before him was no longer a childhood friend but an Old Guard. He sat back down, gulping down the porridge, as if reclaiming something fiercely.