Chapter 456 - 325: The Sacred Tax

Eric noticed the man standing beside Balha. The man had dark skin, thick eyebrows, a high-bridged nose, and a slightly pointed chin—typical Persian features. He looked to be a bit older than Balha. He wore a dark, simple but sturdy robe with a plain leather belt at his waist. He held a wooden tray, divided into several compartments, which held various Gold Coins, Silver Coins, and Copper Coins that glinted faintly in the sunlight.

Balha then clapped his hands. A moment later, a few soldiers dragged two men over. They appeared to be prisoners. Their heads were heavily injured, their bodies were covered in wounds and bloodstains, and the grime caked on their faces made them unrecognizable. Only the wooden Crosses hanging from their necks revealed their Identity.

They were roughly dragged before an execution block. Yes, there was an execution block in the center of the village. It seemed to have been placed there intentionally, and it didn’t look temporary—it appeared to have been there for some years.

The pitiful ’Christians’ were forced to their knees, their legs giving out as they collapsed to the ground, their heads forced to tilt upward.

The executioner walked over. He was also a Persian. The crescent-shaped saber in his hands gleamed, clearly having been used many times. That Persian gripped the jewel-encrusted hilt with both hands as two soldiers seized one of the ’Christians’ by the arms and dragged him forward.

The executioner had already planted his feet wide, hands raising the Curved Saber high above the man’s head. Fresh blood spurted out with a thick, foul stench, spreading across the execution block and staining the adjacent soil red.

Some of the Arab villagers shut their eyes in fear, but many others cheered.

Immediately after, Balha beckoned to a soldier. He was going to execute one himself. The soldier quickly handed him a Longsword, not a Curved Saber.

Balha gripped the hilt, which was engraved with ornate patterns, with both hands. Two Persians seized the other ’Christian’ by the arms and dragged him onto the execution block. The poor ’Christian’ let out a soft groan. The Sword fell, but it didn’t go all the way through, getting stuck in the man’s neck. A pained howl echoed through the village, but the Persians held him down firmly.

Balha had to hack four or five times before he finally severed the man’s head. It was practically a butchering. His brutal swings sent blood flying, spattering the Gold and Silver Coins on the wooden tray.

Afterward, Balha tossed the Sword to a nearby soldier and took a towel to wipe his blood-soaked hands.

Balha looked at the Arab villagers around him. "Why did we kill these Christians? You must have heard the recent news. A gang of vicious Christians has betrayed our trust and scorned our mercy!

"They unrepentantly believe in a heretical god, defy our laws, and disobey the Governor’s authority. Just a few days ago, they arrogantly harmed our own brothers, slaughtered women, children, and the elderly, and plundered our property! Shameless! Despicable!"

"Just yesterday, under orders from the Governor of Hama, I led my troops into a fierce battle against them and took them captive. We kill them now to show them the consequences of opposing the Governor of Hama!

"To show them the price for bullying the followers of Allah! The Governor is here, so Hama is at peace! The Governor is here, so you are safe! There is no god but Allah!"

As Balha finished speaking, his soldiers were the first to cheer for their commander. Spurred on and intimidated by them, the villagers gradually began to echo Balha’s words.

"There is no god but Allah!"

"There is no god but Allah!"

...

Hearing the enthusiastic response, Balha felt the mood was right. He coughed twice and waved his hand, signaling for silence.

"Since the Caliph lost control, Hama has had twenty Governors. They were all beasts, animals, scoundrels, and parasites! But Governor Yajisiyan is different! He is not a beast, not an animal, not a scoundrel, and not a parasite!

"He will delegate me to lead the army and ride out of the city to suppress the Christian thugs.

"These Christian thugs cannot be trusted. You must always be wary of them, whip them, and suppress them.

"We have to fight them! Just think, you’re out of the village with your wife, eating flatbread, singing a song, and suddenly you’re murdered by Christian thugs.

"So, a day without Christians is a good day!"

"Kill all the Christians!"

"Take their lives!"

"In the name of Allah!"

...

"Now is the time to show your Devotion to Allah. The Lord Governor needs your help, the great Allah needs your contributions. This is a sacred tax, for the peace of generations to come."

Balha signaled for the Persian holding the wooden tray to step forward, then looked at Joseph. "Now, let our guest who has traveled from afar set an example."

Several soldiers surrounded Joseph, showing him their drawn blades. One of them leaned in and threatened in Persian, "Don’t be a fool, outsider. No law protects you here."

Joseph frantically searched himself, but after fumbling for a while, he came up with nothing. Sweat beaded on his face from anxiety.

Just as he was about to drop to his knees and beg for mercy, a Silver Coin was pressed into his hand.

Joseph hastily offered the Silver Coin to Balha. Balha took it, blew on it to test its quality, then nodded in satisfaction and tossed it into the wooden tray.

Following his lead, the villagers began to hand over their money, one by one—Silver Coins and Copper Coins. Although some of them saw this for what it was, a new method of extortion, and were reluctant to give their money to Balha, they had no right to refuse.

Once Balha had collected all the money, he held the wooden tray with satisfaction and prepared to leave. But after taking just two steps, he turned back.

He extended his hand toward Joseph and shook it up and down, as if demanding more.

"My lord, what are you doing?"

"You’re a passing merchant, right? A Persian."

"Yes, yes, I... I am Jo— no, my name is Ahmed the merchant. No, I am Ahmed the merchant." Joseph was so nervous he was babbling.

"Where are you from?"

"From... fr-from Mosul!"

"A merchant from Mosul? You’re the third one today! The first two were smarter than you. I thought all Persians were clever, but it seems I was mistaken." Seeing Joseph’s blank look, Balha slapped his own forehead and said in Persian, "You still have to pay the road toll, you Persian fool. Another Silver Coin. No, two. There are two of you. Even though that masked fellow next to you barely looks human, he’s treading on this land with human feet, so he pays the toll."

"My lord, I have nothing left! You don’t know what I’ve been through..."

Joseph was about to recite the story Eric had prepared for him, but Balha had no intention of listening.

"Then what’s that on your packhorses?"

"Nothing, Lord."

Balha leaned forward slightly, then broke into a wide grin and let out a loud fart. "Sorry, Persian, all I heard was thunder. You say you have nothing? But I see two women, and they look young."

Just then, some patrolling soldiers brought Joseph’s wife and daughter over, ready to hand them to Balha for questioning. Balha smiled and continued, "Are they your women?"

"My wife and daughter, Lord," said Joseph.

"Wife and daughter. Ah, how we love them," Balha said. Then he looked at Eric. "And who is this?"

Balha’s gaze was immediately drawn to Eric. He was curious about him. Eric was tall, nearly a head taller than Balha, and his Metal mask gave him a rather intimidating presence. The Sword at his waist showed that Eric was a Warrior.

Joseph shot a terrified glance at Eric but said nothing.

"I asked," Balha’s voice grew louder, "who is this?"

"His name, his name..." Joseph’s voice trembled with fear. "He is Farhad the leper. Your caravan guard—no, my caravan guard."