Luton Notes

However, the people's anger had not subsided. A marquis's head could not satisfy their long-suppressed emotions. The revelry continued, and their anger was still being vented.

People cheered and roared.

"Death penalty! Death penalty!"

The common people were absolutely in an uproar!

Those once high and mighty figures, whose fates were not to be looked at directly, now have their destiny in the hands of the people—at least in form.

"Dawn. Sharaf, convicted of intentional homicide, instigating war, and robbery."

"Florrie. Carson, sentence."

"Giovanni. Valde, sentenced to death."

One by one, familiar and "noble" surnames were read aloud by Tiefling, who succeeded Mezhuolash.

One by one, nobles were dragged to the guillotine, the sound of blades slicing through flesh echoing repeatedly. Each time the steel blade fell, a burst of enthusiastic cheers would erupt from the crowd.

Even the wooden platform was stained red, with a slowly flowing river of blood flowing down from it, even reaching the feet of the people.

Viscount Luton was being led by the Tiefling Guard among the prisoners, trembling all over.

"O gods!"

"How could such a thing happen?"

"Do these people intend to kill all the nobles of the the North?"

Viscount Luton stared tremblingly at the elderly nobleman on the guillotine on the high platform, his face turning pale instantly.

He recognized the nobleman; he was Earl Askin. Garrett, a renowned general of the Bosque Duchy, who was practically his uncle.

The Earl of Askin once galloped across the battlefield and won the respect of nobles on horseback. Luton even wrote a passionate poem in his honor, "The 《General's Triumph Song》."

But at this moment, this former general was like a lamb to the slaughter, offering his neck for execution.

"Snap!"

With a crisp sound, the sharp knife fell again.

Viscount Luton instinctively shrank back, as if he were the one being beheaded.

Suddenly, he felt something warm splash onto his neck.

He instinctively touched it with his hand.

That was blood.

Fresh, warm blood.

However, the matter is far from over.

"Gurgle, gurgle"

Then, the blood-stained head rolled down from the high platform and landed not far in front of Viscount Luton, its desperate, unseeing eyes staring intently at him.

"Lord Atkins"

Viscount Luton cried out in fright, feeling a wave of nausea rise in his throat and nearly vomiting.

"Vomit"

However, just as he was about to bend down, he was rudely grabbed by the Tiefling Guard behind him, his hands were firmly locked, and he was forced to straighten his back.

What are you going to do?

Don't try anything funny!

The cry of "Death penalty! Death penalty!" rang out again, almost shaking the sky.

The cheers of the crowd, the shouts of the guards, and the sound of the guillotine falling mingled together, echoing in Luton's ears.

Viscount Luton felt dizzy, his ears were ringing, and a sharp tinnitus rang out. Then there was silence, and the world before his eyes seemed to turn blood red.

The people, their expressions feverish and cheering, were like a horde of demons from the Abyss.

"Crazy, he's gone mad."

"They've all gone mad."

Viscount Luton was pale, his eyes were empty and lifeless, his forehead was covered in cold sweat, and his lips trembled slightly.

Many scenes flashed through his mind like a revolving lantern: grand banquets, orderly marching troops, elegant dances, and beautifully bound books. That was the life he was supposed to have.

The North shouldn't be like this; it should be Pure Land for nobles like him.

What's wrong with this world? How dare they rebel?

Why have all the submissive common people gone mad?

"This world is beyond saving."

In his last moments before losing consciousness, Viscount Luton thought this.

The murmurs of the Tiefling Guard rose up.

He fainted from fright!

"As expected of the cowards from the the North!"

"Hehe, I've seen plenty of nobles like this. Last time there was one who was even more pathetic, he was scared into a stupor."

"Tsk, what a bunch of useless trash."

"This is simply a dream!"

"I never imagined that the fates of these Noble Lord could be decided by us."

"They actually compensated me! I got three Gold Coin!"

"I've finally avenged my wife and daughter."

After leaving the crowded venue, people were still talking about it, and excitement remained on their thin faces.

The public trial lasted from morning until evening, proceeding according to social status from highest to lowest.

What was once the privilege of the Northern Nobles has now become an absolute death warrant.

These nobles in high positions have more or less experience in oppressing ordinary people, or it is just a matter of habit. They have never truly regarded ordinary people as equals.

When people's anger is ignited, severe retaliation becomes a matter of course.

A day passed, and a total of twenty-seven nobles had been beheaded. The highest-ranking and most vocal among them was Marquis Holleren, while the lowest-ranking was the Earl of the Bosque Duchy.

The vast treasures they had seized were moved from the mansion, and a considerable portion of them were distributed to the victims.

The kingdom's strategy of sowing discord was very successful.

This is an open conspiracy.

It was an open scheme to sow discord between commoners and nobles.

After this public trial, those who participated in the trial and benefited from it were also completely bound to the war chariot of the Embers of the Burned Kingdom.

After all, their hands are stained with the blood of the Northern Nobles, and once the Northern Nobles regain their rule, they will face the most cruel and bloody revenge.

Therefore, people had no choice but to passively accept the kingdom's rule.

Moreover, the dragon's rule did not seem as brutal as rumored—at least not to the common people.

Besides the nobles who were executed, many lower-ranking nobles escaped, including Viscount Luton.

They were temporarily imprisoned in the former prison of the Bosque Duchy, awaiting their trial.

"November 3, 1785, Third Era. I will never forget this unforgettable day."

"That day, my world seemed to turn blood red."

"I have never seen so many distinguished people die in front of me. Just a day ago, they were my beloved elders and respected teachers, but after that day, they all became cold, headless corpses."

"This is not a so-called 'trial,' but a brutal and tyrannical massacre against the Northern Nobles. The dragon and his kingdom have shamelessly incited our people and stirred up their emotions—turning them into true demons."

—《Luton. Seager's Handbook》