Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Retribution (3)
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To suppress the mob, the king mobilized every last palace guard remaining in the capital.
Soldiers clad in iron helmets and shields lined up in every alleyway, surrounding the crowd.
"Those who insult the king are traitors! Disperse, or we'll slaughter you all!"
Children and women screamed as they fell back.
Anger erupted from the midst of the people.
"The king didn't protect us!"
"Who threw our families to the monsters as food?!"
Stones and bricks rained down like hail.
A few soldiers raised their shields, but there were too many.
Blood sprayed, shields shattered, and the ranks broke.
The king stood on the balcony above the palace's main gate, grinding his teeth.
"By my command! Cut down those traitors! Don't hesitate!"
But his orders fell on deaf ears.
Instead, it was the king's soldiers who collapsed screaming amid the wave of the mob.
It was the work of the Raid Hall.
They had gathered the rebels, incited them, and dragged them here to the front lines.
All of it orchestrated by the Raid Hall's instructors and disciples.
When the people's fury reached its peak, the Sword Lord's first disciple, Nile, shouted,
"Drag those bastards out!!"
The rebels repelled all the palace guards and surged toward the palace gates.
"Protect me! I won't kneel to these filthy pigs!"
The king clutched the balcony railing and wailed, but unfamiliar hands seized him from behind.
Terrified ministers averted their eyes as they grabbed the king's arms and dragged him away by force.
"Your Majesty, enough..."
"Let go! Let go! I am the king! How dare you—!"
But his cries were drowned out by the clanging of metal and the roar of the crowd.
The palace's grand gates shattered into pieces.
With a roar like an explosion, the crowd's wave poured into the palace grounds.
The king was forcibly dragged before the people.
Terrified ministers stood in a line beside him.
"I never—"
Someone hurled a stone.
Curses followed in a torrent.
"Liar!"
"'I'? You're the one who made the monsters!"
"Give us back our families!"
The crowd was already a powder keg ready to blow.
The king's voice vanished, swallowed by their shouts.
After that, events unfolded swiftly.
The king and his ministers were nailed to crosses and erected in the square.
Stones flew, curses mingled in the air.
Soon, the mob's hands turned toward families, relatives—even servants and friends.
Any connection to them was reason enough to hang.
The square was no longer a place of judgment.
People shared madness, drunk on ecstasy.
Some laughed hysterically while throwing stones; others hoisted children on their shoulders, yelling, "That's the king!"
At first, they screamed and begged to be let down.
Then they shouted for it to stop.
After that, their voices gave out, and they simply took the stones limply.
Who had first suggested crucifying them and pelting with stones?
One thing was certain: the moment the idea was voiced, the mob carried it out.
And it was the same this time.
"Burn them!"
The shout spread like lightning.
But this time, a hush fell briefly.
Everyone knew flames couldn't be undone once lit.
Then a boy stepped forward with a torch.
No one's orders, no hesitation.
The instant the fire touched the base of the crosses, the crowd cheered and rushed after him.
Finally, the flames roared up. Screams erupted without pause, and faces glowed red in the firelight.
It wasn't judgment.
It was a festival.
Delgaria's eleventh king went down in history as the worst tyrant...
"...if only it had ended like that. You'll spend the rest of your days wishing it had."
In a dark chamber.
In a pitch-black room where not even a sliver of outside light seeped in, Irena splashed water on a man bound in the center.
Just before the frenzied mob carried out the burnings.
Irena had swapped out the king and ministers from the crosses.
It was possible because so many others hung there.
The incited, enraged mob had strung up the royals' families, relatives—even friends.
Guilty or not, it didn't matter.
Any faint connection was enough to condemn them.
Irena splashed more water on the king, who still hadn't come to his senses.
This time, ice-cold.
The king awoke with a yell.
His torn vocal cords only scraped like metal on metal.
"The Central Church says that after death, one's sins are judged, and they fall into hell. But I see it differently."
Irena had no intention of letting the mob judge the king and ministers.
That was why she'd swapped them out and locked them in this chamber.
"People are born into hell from the start. If life is already hell, why must we fall into another after death?"
Ever since graduating the academy and being deployed to the front lines, Irena had lived in hell.
Perhaps since entering the academy.
Or maybe since the day she was born.
That's why Irena didn't believe in the Central Church.
Nor did the princess she'd met at the academy—the one who would become empress.
She saw religion as a tool to control the masses.
"Ian knew it too. That's probably why."
She hadn't heard it directly from him, but Irena thought so.
Ian's rage was her rage.
She understood his feelings, but she'd stopped his plan for a simple reason.
It would harm those at the Raid Hall.
Killing everyone in the kingdom.
Would that include the Raid Hall's children?
Even if spared, would they still respect Ian?
She knew they wouldn't.
That's why she'd intervened and sought another way.
"Look forward to it now."
Irena smiled.
"I'll show you exactly why life is hell."
The gates to hell for the king and ministers opened.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Contrary to her declaration of showing them hell, there was no physical torture.
In the empty chamber, the king and ministers stared at each other through the iron bars.
They were in wretched shape.
Even swapped out midway, the stones and nails had left lasting wounds.
They passed their days trembling between relief at surviving and dread of what torments awaited.
Water and food arrived regularly.
They knew it was made from bugs, but they had no choice but to force it down.
By the time their bodies recovered and voices returned.
The food was still bugs.
"Y-Your Majesty... Do you know what's happening?"
"Ungrateful swine who don't even know our grace... They have no idea how much mercy we showed..."
Their stomachs were still hungry, but they could stave off starvation.
Their wounds healed, movement was no longer painful.
As body and mind eased, other thoughts crept in.
"Escape... We must escape. Reclaim the throne and exact revenge, swiftly."
Escape.
It took a little time to realize how delusional that was.
The chamber walls were thick, the bars firmly locked.
No tools to dig with.
No other methods worked.
Just as despair set in, someone arrived and handed them a single sword.
"A trap! It's a trap!"
That was the first reaction.
Once they realized nothing happened, they boldly raised the sword.
"This sword has no tricks...!"
Tools were provided.
Escape dreams reignited.
The king and ministers clutched the sword like treasure.
They scraped at walls, watched for chances when food arrived.
Of course, nothing came of it.
So they dug endlessly at the walls.
By the time they grew accustomed to the sword again.
Suddenly, the bars opened.
"Escape... It's escape...!!"
"We can get out!"
A few fools cheered; the cautious gripped their swords warily.
"Don't act rashly! This is a trap! Who would release us like this?!"
"Ridiculous! The guards know we're here and are letting us out—who's to say?!"
The bars dividing the vast chamber retracted, forming one huge space.
As they awaited the final door's opening.
A shadow lunged through the open doorway.
"Argh!! What is that?!"
"Monster! It's a monster!!"
They fled in panic at first, then remembered their swords and charged together to slay the beast.
There were casualties.
"Gaaah!!"
One brave minister lost a leg; afterward, several more lost wrists or limbs.
But none died.
Whoever locked them here would treat their wounds while they slept and vanish.
Every day, one monster entered the prison.
The ministers and king struggled desperately to kill it.
Some cowered in fear behind others.
Those were shoved forward as meat shields against the next day's beast.
As experience built and they became increasingly crippled.
One minister noticed something odd about the monster.
"That monster... it's wearing a ring."
"Th-that...!! Isn't that the ring I gave my wife?!"
A wedding ring on the monster's ring finger.