The situation was hopeless. Rebel leader Alan hesitated briefly, then handed his weapon to Raymond, requesting to surrender.
The suppression forces were somewhat reluctant, but Juan, recalling Ryan's instructions, immediately chose to accept the surrender when he saw the rebel leader giving up.
Thus, the battle ended. Under the stern gazes of the Old Guards and local nobles, the rebel serfs came out in small groups from the stronghold, kneeling to surrender.
The suppression forces were strict. Aside from clothing, bedding, and some pots and pans, no weapons were allowed. Even tools like hoes and pitchforks were banned, and any gold, silver, jewels, or religious items had to be handed over.
Anyone found smuggling such items would be executed on the spot.
This severe order, paradoxically, reassured the rebel serfs. Such high demands and strict orders suggested that the knights were not planning to kill prisoners, as that would be unnecessary trouble.
The suppression forces set up a prisoner camp, with dozens of large pots preparing food for the rebels.
Juan originally intended to distribute black bread to the rebels, but Earls Duren and Lalotte immediately opposed this. They felt the rebels, though pitiable, did not deserve black bread. They only needed enough to stay alive. Moreover, if the rebels were too well-fed, they might regain the strength to resist.
Juan thought about it and agreed. The prisoners did not need such good treatment.
The pots cooked porridge, but not the fragrant, oily porridge the army ate. Instead, it was made from old grains and various miscellaneous grains (chestnuts, dried beans, acorns, and ferns), with some chopped vegetable leaves, boiled into a thin gruel with no oil and very watery.
To the rebels, however, it was a rare delicacy.
The aroma of the gruel wafted through the summer air, and the rebel serfs, ragged, emaciated, and filthy, gathered eagerly. Among them were not only young men but also the elderly, sick, women, and children. Many women lacked proper clothing, desperately trying to cover themselves but still revealing parts of their bodies, feeling ashamed and humiliated.
In the Old Guards' camp, rebel leader Alan was brought in for questioning. He confessed everything straightforwardly, only begging Juan not to kill the prisoners. He was willing to sacrifice his life for theirs.
Having spent some time under Ryan, Juan had learned a lot. He appeared very troubled, letting Alan beg for a long time before reluctantly agreeing to spare the rebels.
At that moment, Alan knelt before everyone in the camp, crying uncontrollably.
Seeing this, Juan sent Raymond to escort Alan to get some food.
Raymond took Alan to a spot in the Old Guards' camp and they sat down. Alan, shackled and aware that any trouble would bring suffering to the 20,000 rebels outside, sighed deeply. He accepted the bowl of gruel from Raymond. "Long time no see... So, you're an Old Guard now? You brought the knights here to defeat us?"
Raymond fell silent. His childhood friend was before him, so familiar yet so strange. They had played together, gathered wild fruits in the forest, and fished in the river. As they grew up, they both worked for the knights.
On the night of the rebellion, Alan chose to resist, while Raymond chose to flee.
Different choices led to different paths. Now, Raymond was an Old Guard, decorated and equipped with dwarf-crafted weapons and armor, no longer resembling a serf.
"Lak is dead." Raymond suddenly said after a long silence. "Do you remember him?"
"His two sisters?" Alan paused.
"They're dead too, killed by beastmen while fleeing. My mother, brother, and I almost died as well." Raymond said sadly. "No one has it easy, Alan."
"Yes, no one has it easy. I became a rebel and faced hanging, you became a runaway and faced hanging too!" Alan gritted his teeth. "Either way, it was death. Whether escaping or rebelling, we both survived. That's enough."
"Alan, why did you..." Raymond hesitated.
"Why?! You're asking me why?!" Alan grew agitated, almost shouting. "What choice did we have when we couldn't survive? Were we supposed to watch ourselves starve to death?"
The clinking of chains echoed.
Seeing Alan's hysteria, Raymond felt grateful for his choice to flee to Ryan's domain and live a better life.
Realizing his childhood friend was now an Old Guard, Alan sat down and ate the gruel fiercely, as if trying to reclaim something.
Tears fell as he ate. "It's been days."
"Days?" Raymond asked, puzzled.
"We've been out of food for days, carrying out over a hundred corpses daily," Alan cried. "Your attacks were too fierce. We usually scattered, lacking stockpiles!"
"Sorry, but those were the Duke's orders," Raymond felt awkward, ashamed for the first time. "We had to suppress the rebellion quickly."
"The Duke? The Duke!" Alan spat the words. "You know how the Duke of Lyonnais treated us?"
"He lured our leaders, promising help, and then massacred 8,000 surrendered serfs!" Alan's eyes were bloodshot. "Tell me, Raymond, what happened to that Duke?"
"He was killed by vampires," Raymond knew about Duke Alderreld's betrayal and massacre.
"Good! Dukes deserve to die!"
"Alan!" Raymond shouted angrily. "Duke Ryan is different!"
"All knights and nobles are the same scum!"
The atmosphere in the camp changed as Alan's words hung in the air.
Angry eyes fixed on the rebel leader. An Old Guard walked up and slapped Alan. "Shut up, fool. Don't badmouth the Duke unless you want to die. We were serfs too, just like you."
"I was a serf, farming by the Shinon River."
"I was a serf, a hunter in Chalon Forest."
"I was a serf, a fisherman in Redfish Village."
"I was a serf, a butcher before the Duke recruited me."
"We were all serfs!"
"Without Duke Ryan, we wouldn't be here!"
The Old Guards surrounded Alan, their imposing presence terrifying him. Raymond had to calm them down before they dispersed.
"See? Duke Ryan is different," Raymond continued. "In our land, everyone loves the Duke. No one goes hungry. Everyone eats meat if they work hard. The Duke only taxes a fixed amount, the rest is ours."
Alan muttered something under his breath, which Raymond couldn't hear.
"By the way, didn't we send a large batch of grain to Lyonnais?" Raymond asked, puzzled. "It should have solved the famine."
"Relief grain? You're delusional," Alan scoffed. "No serf saw a single grain. That grain went to the knights' castles!"
"Nonsense, we nobles didn't see it either," a voice interrupted. Earl Lalotte, dressed in Bretonnian noble attire, approached. "Want to know where the grain went, Alan?"
"How would I know?" Alan grumbled, though his eyes betrayed interest.
"The relief grain was brought by the Sea God Fleet of Bordeleaux to Lyonnais Castle. The next day, it was sold in the market at prices far below cost, quickly bought by northern nobles and merchants." Lalotte's smile was bitter. "We Mousillon nobles never saw any."
Alan clenched his fists.
"We Mousillon nobles were always excluded," Lalotte continued. "We're used to it."
Hearing this, the Old Guards sighed. As former serfs, they knew the knights' tricks. Many felt grateful to Duke Ryan for their better lives.
With the last rebel group crushed, southern Lyonnais was finally at peace.
Peace had arrived.
...
Old World, Bretonnia, Earl of Glamorgan's castle.
"What an unexpected windfall!" Ryan sat in his study, reading the frontline reports, nodding in satisfaction.
Quelling the rebellion had yielded over 7,000 gold crowns in loot from the rebels.
This fortune tempted many local nobles, who asked Ryan to return the stolen wealth. Ryan dismissed them, declaring the wealth as "seized."
Apart from awarding 1,000 gold crowns each to Earls Duren and Lalotte for their swift support, the rest would be used to resettle refugees, restore production, and maintain order, saving Ryan from dipping into his own treasury.
Overall, the rebellion suppression was successful. The Old Guards' first battle established their invincible reputation, crucial for Ryan's plans. The Old Guards had to be formidable, determined, and undefeated.
Ryan chose the rebels for the Old Guards' first battle to ensure victory and bolster their reputation.
Despite the Old Guards' elite status and battle experience, Ryan knew they couldn't be wasted. One defeat could undo all his efforts, just like the devastating Battle of Gaoliang River, which broke an elite army's spine, leading to a series of military failures.
Ryan's current situation mirrored a victorious Zhao II who had reclaimed Yan-Yun (Mousillon). No one dared oppose him, even when he challenged the entrenched noble system.
But Ryan knew one defeat could revert everything, wasting years of effort.
Thinking deeply, the dark elf entered. "Master, Lady Morgiana has returned from Couronne. She wants to discuss something with you."
"Morgiana is back?"
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