Chapter 875
Hearing Shen Lang's words, Count Vytin's expression grew even more complicated. If that were the case, this Gilded City would inevitably fall into Shen Lang's hands. Though he was Duke Dybas's husband, he was an Easterner.
Just then, Duke Dybas's voice came from outside. She was almost fully recovered, but still lacked the courage to meet with Count Vytin in person. Even when she went out, she was bundled up from head to toe, wearing a golden mask.
“Master, Lord Shen Lang is Princess Helene's half-brother, sharing a different mother.”
Greatly shocked, Count Vytin looked at Shen Lang in disbelief. The entire Western world knew that Princess Helene had Eastern blood, but to think she and Shen Lang shared the same father...
“It is the undeniable truth. Therefore, my marriage to Lord Shen Lang will be blessed by the heavens and the god of fire. You need not feel such immense psychological pressure. Besides, don't you also worship Her Majesty, Empress Helene, in your heart?”
Vytin was different from Dybas. Dybas was a typical northern noble, but Vytin was unequivocally a southern noble. In his heart, he approved of Empress Helene's policy of racial inclusion. For he, too, had the blood of the Veda tribe. If this was true, the situation was almost too perfect. Princess Helene was the master of the empire's south, and Shen Lang was her brother. He and Duke Dybas could be called a match made in heaven. Dybas was Count Vytin's liege, but Empress Helene's bloodline held a higher place in Vytin's heart than Dybas did.
“I offer you my respects, my lord.”
Count Vytin said fervently, looking at Shen Lang. Shen Lang felt a pang of pity inwardly. This world was truly unfair. It was so in the Eastern world, and even more so in the West. Only bloodline was deemed important. Shen Lang and Empress Helene had no relationship whatsoever, but by claiming he was Princess Helene's brother, many difficult problems were naturally resolved.
“I wish you good health, Lord Vytin.”
***
Shen Lang needed to return to Mulan City urgently, but the affairs of the Gilded City were also extremely important. He needed this city's gold, blacksmiths, carpenters, and shipyards, so the upcoming public ceremony was crucial. Duke Dybas had to bring this matter to a satisfactory close by publicly executing all the traitors. And Shen Lang absolutely had to appear with her at this event. Only then could he prove his status as the joint master of the Gilded City.
In the central square of the Gilded City, over a thousand people knelt on the ground in an orderly fashion. In reality, several thousand warriors who had participated in the rebellion had already been executed, and only about a hundred traitors had been captured. However, as more people implicated in the rebellion were continuously identified, the number to be executed surpassed a thousand. Seeing this, it was clear that the East and the West were no different.
Two thousand Amazon warriors and twenty thousand warriors of the Russo family stood like statues in the square, maintaining order and upholding the dignity of the Russo family. Over a hundred thousand citizens had gathered to watch this execution ceremony. The person presiding over the ceremony was the highly respected Count Vytin. He was truly a man of iron. To be fully armed and leave his home not even two full days after waking up. He had already recovered enough strength that the massive greatsword in his hand, weighing over two hundred pounds, did not tremble or waver in the slightest.
After a long wait of two hours, music began to play. Escorted by five thousand warriors, a magnificent carriage drawn by eight horses slowly arrived. Shen Lang, dressed in silk, stepped out of the carriage first and extended his hand to help Duke Dybas down. This was Duke Dybas's first public appearance since her illness, and her unparalleled beauty still captivated everyone. She seemed even more beautiful than before, like a flame that could scorch everyone's eyes.
“Thank you, my dear husband.”
After stepping down from the carriage, Dybas linked arms with Shen Lang and gave him a kiss on the cheek. The two acted intimately, as if no one else was around. Shen Lang even whispered something in her ear, making Duke Dybas laugh so hard she trembled. This display sent another signal. A signal that Duke Dybas had transformed from an incredibly strong woman into a gentle wife. Previously, though not a man, she had consistently maintained a masculine demeanor. Now, she was showing the outside world that she would fulfill her duties as a woman, and that in their marital relationship, she desired equality, or even to be the more submissive partner.
“My dearest husband, don't tease me anymore. If I kiss you again, all the lipstick you gave me will wear off. And it's such a precious gift from you.”
Duke Dybas's voice was neither loud nor soft, but just audible enough for many to hear. She was truly a natural political creature. The two ascended a platform and sat on chairs inlaid with gold and jade.
“Lord Shen Lang, Lady Russo. The traitors are all here. Will you now execute your thunderous judgment?”
Count Vytin reported, kneeling on one knee.
“My love, what are your thoughts?”
Duke Dybas asked in a coquettish voice.
“Those who commit heinous acts must be punished. Especially Fincher. He attempted to murder his own father-in-law, Count Vytin, an unforgivable crime. He deserves death by a thousand cuts.”
“As you wish. Count Doyle Russo is my vassal and a member of our Russo family. For daring to plot treason, he must be drawn and quartered. As for the rest, I intend to have them all beheaded. What do you think?”
“It seems a fair judgment.”
“Master, if you would do the honors.”
“I will carry out your will. By order of my liege, Doyle Russo is sentenced to be drawn and quartered.”
Count Vytin commanded in a loud voice. Doyle Russo could neither beg for mercy nor spew curses. His tongue had already been cut out. He was a man of the Russo family, so it was best to ensure he could not say anything unpleasant for others to hear. In utter terror, he was bound by ropes and hoisted into the air. From the look in his suspended eyes, it seemed he wanted to beg for forgiveness. His eyes were filled with fear and regret.
“I was forced. I was deceived by others. I never wanted to commit treason from the start. Spare me, spare me...”
He mumbled and shouted, but no complete words came from his mouth. As Count Vytin's large hand came down forcefully, five warhorses bolted forward, and in an instant, Count Doyle's body was torn apart. Shen Lang turned his gaze away, trying not to watch the gruesome sight, but Duke Dybas's eyes, in contrast, showed a look of satisfaction.
“Execute the sentence!”
Count Vytin commanded once more.
Swish, swish, swish.
The hands of a thousand warriors fell along with their blades, and all the traitors were beheaded. The stench of blood filled the entire square, piercing the heavens. Among the crowd watching the execution, some wet themselves. This was because they, too, had narrowly escaped the chopping block. The traitors had approached them, but they had refused to join the rebellion, giving one reason or another.
Finally, it was Fincher's turn. He was the most despicable among all the traitors. While the other traitors might have acted out of some sense of their own justice, he alone had joined the rebellion to satisfy his personal greed and to harm his own benefactor, his father-in-law.
Moreover, he had tried to defile Dybas in a cowardly manner by shooting her below the abdomen with a crossbow. He was a thoroughly vile person, and his sins were too great to be forgiven. Furthermore, he was a hypocrite, a venomous snake skilled at acting.
Even before the slicing began, he was so frightened he wet himself. He desperately wanted to slam his forehead on the ground and beg for his life, but he too could not speak. So, he desperately pleaded with Count Vytin with his eyes. He hoped that Lord Vytin would recall some good memory of him, soften his heart, and spare his life.
“Angels to heaven, humans to the mortal realm, and demons to hell.”
After speaking, Count Vytin brought his hand down forcefully.
“Aaaargh!”
Sentenced to death by a thousand cuts, the despicable traitor Fincher, Count Vytin's son-in-law, let out an utterly wretched scream.
***
Two hours later, in a luxurious room in the mountaintop fortress, Duke Dybas and Shen Lang were burning with passion. Dybas was pressing Shen Lang to fulfill his promise. The promise concerning her womb. Shen Lang suspected this woman might be a pervert. After witnessing such a brutal execution ceremony, she had somehow become even more aroused.
“I surrender. Pakki, let me go. I have to leave.”
Dybas leaned over, glared at Shen Lang like a lioness, and then fiercely bit his shoulder. It was a good thing she was fully recovered; otherwise, Shen Lang truly wouldn't have dared to touch her.
“Husband, you must pay respects to Her Highness Helene on my behalf. I've also prepared a gift, so make sure to give it to her. Are you really not going to see Her Highness Helene with me?”
Shen Lang replied to Dybas's words.
“Pakki, you are far too concerned with people's status.”
Dybas said dismissively.
“If there were no one to maintain the class system in this world, the entire world order would collapse. You, as a member of the upper class, should be aware of that. The fact that you, my husband, are so unrestrained and unbothered by anything is very charming. But the fewer people like you there are, the better. Otherwise, all the commoners in the world would get ahead of themselves and not know their place.”
Any twisted argument that came from Dybas's mouth sounded righteous, even like a cold, hard truth.
Two hours later, Shen Lang and General Quenin, sharing a single horse, returned to Mulan City under the protection of a thousand Amazon warriors.
Why did he leave after just two hours instead of the next day? Unfortunately, it was because Shen Lang's stamina couldn't hold out any longer; he had to leave immediately.
***
Upon returning to Mulan City, Shen Lang rushed frantically toward the castellan's mansion, shouting loudly.
“Where is my sister? Where is my dear sister?”
Crack, crack, crack, crack.
Suddenly, a woman who had her back turned spun around and, with a powerful kick, shattered a dozen stone pillars into dust.
‘Another female battle maniac? To not just break such thick stone pillars with a kick, but to pulverize them into dust.’
The woman turned, walked over to Shen Lang, and then suddenly swept him into her arms, spinning him around several times. Then, she held his face and lightly kissed his forehead and the tip of his nose.
“My dear brother, you've finally returned. I've been waiting here for you for days. My dear little brother, you're even more handsome than I imagined. For a man to be prettier than me, do you think that's fair?”
Shen Lang was overwhelmed by her enthusiasm. This wild yet beautiful face looked extremely fiery. Shen Lang had never seen a woman as wild as her. She had wavy black hair and purple eyes.
“Helene?”
Shen Lang asked, and the woman replied.
“Little brother, are you asking my name? I'm not Helene. My Eastern name is Jiang Mi, and my Western name is Hela.”
‘Hela? As in Hela, the goddess of death from Norse mythology? Not Helene?’
Shen Lang was stunned. Could he possibly have another older sister in the Western world? What was going on?
“Oh, right, I have another identity. I'm the Third Chieftain of the Skull Gang Pirate Corps. I wonder if you've heard of it.”
Shen Lang was so shocked he was dumbfounded, staring in disbelief at the wild, powerful woman before him.