Ⅲ
The sudden shout was like a stone thrown into a still lake.
Ripples rose, one layer after another.
Then-
They became towering waves!
"It's Lord Pistrie Hamlet!"
"In his arms, he's holding...
Lord Diodone Hamlet's head!"
Everyone turned toward the Old Lion's youngest son, who had appeared near the battlefield, and saw the grief on his face and the terror in his eyes.
At that moment, the Old Lion's youngest son looked like an injured, panic-stricken fawn.
Every breath seemed to carry a frightened flinch.
No one would think he was faking it.
Everyone knew Pistrie Hamlet was a kind man, a chivalrous noble willing to listen to the common people.
Besides, Pistrie was holding Diodone's head in his arms.
Compared with his younger brother Pistrie, Diodone was far more famous in the Inner Bay.
His handsome face had always been a favorite topic among the ladies in the Inner Bay's aristocratic circles.
But now?
Only a head remained.
A head frozen in disbelief.
Even so, its beauty was impossible to conceal.
Quite a few ladies of the Seven Great Families hiding nearby looked at that head with longing-certain mystic arts could preserve corpses perfectly. Even if they couldn't have the whole man, obtaining his head would be nice, too.
The desire in their hearts made them impatient.
Still, they didn't act immediately.
Instead, they remained concealed and quietly turned their eyes toward Barro Hamlet.
This was the man they, their husbands, and their fathers followed.
When Barro Hamlet saw Pistrie and Diodone's head in his arms, unmistakable surprise crossed his face-he hadn't killed Diodone.
More precisely, he had never truly intended to kill either Pistrie or Diodone.
He wanted both of them alive.
Preferably alive in his custody.
Only that way could he maximize his gains.
Only that