Hanging from the flagpoles were none other than the masters who had planned to flee the town ahead of time.
Only now did most of the ordinary humans kneeling on the ground realize that those masters looked just as miserable after being hanged.
More than a dozen corpses hung high above, both humans and orcs among them.
They had all been wealthy households in the city.
Though the vast majority of humans held low status, that did not prevent a small handful from possessing better, higher positions.
That remained true even under the rule of Giants and orcs.
Orcs were poor at management, so many humans had found opportunities to prosper.
But that no longer mattered. They had already been hanged.
Since Charles intended to take the camp and plunder its resources, how could he possibly let his spoils escape at such a critical moment?
Thus, from the very beginning, he had arranged for Erika to lead Scorchflame and several dozen cavalrymen to intercept them on the outskirts.
If they wanted to run, they would have to ask Scorchflame first!
All the town's residents had been gathered in an open space.
Many were still shaken, watching their surroundings in terror, afraid that they too would be hanged.
The cavalry galloped through the town, dragging out those hiding in their homes as well.
As for those hidden especially well, they did not bother with them.
While everyone awaited judgment from an unknown fate, Charles slowly walked onto a hastily erected platform.
Behind him stood a row of wooden flagpoles, corpses still hanging from them.
Charles braced both hands on his spellblade, the hood of the Glimmering Concealment Cloak lowered behind him.
Charles's golden hair looked almost dazzling beneath the near-noon sun.
The human and orc residents kneeling below were all stunned