Episode 413

As a warrior, Quaven had faced countless threats to his life. A battlefield without any intent to kill couldn't be called a true battlefield. Once he had become a high-ranking warrior, Quaven had always answered killing intent with the same hostility. This time was no different.

"Who are you?" Quaven recognized that the emotion in his voice wasn't hostility.

Did the boy sense the politeness that weighed more than hostility or vigilance?

Delac calmly shook his head. "My identity doesn't really matter now."

"That... goes against the principles I was taught."

"Principles?"

"If you want to take my life, I need to know who you are. It is the only courtesy that killers and their victims share."

"Is it an eastern tradition?"

Quaven didn't answer.

"I need to correct this misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?" Quaven echoed.

"I'm not trying to kill everyone here."

Quaven realized that this man had spoken of death, but only in reference to the lesser races. "Why are you talking only about the lesser races...?"

"That is the only way to stop the demon king's descent."

"D-demon king? What does that—"

"Do you know what is going on in this labor camp?" Delac interrupted Quaven in a calm voice. "There isn't enough time to explain all these tangled plots and schemes. I just want you to know that it is a necessary death."

Was there really such a thing as a necessary death in the world?

Setting aside this philosophical question, Quaven finally turned his attention to the other party. His expression didn't match his youthful appearance. His serious tone and elegance created a contradictory impression. His dark skin and unique purple eyes set him apart even further. He was someone capable of killing this monster with a single blow. More importantly, he prioritized demon hunting and the eradication of the Dark Church above all else.

A name flashed through Quaven's mind like a thunderbolt, and he blurted out, "The Iron-Blooded Lord..."

His low, sharp voice spread in all directions like ripples.

Buoyed by their miraculous victory, the lesser races believed they would never retreat again, no matter who stood before them. Though they still could not fully grasp the situation, they were determined to resist any enemy that appeared. However, the moment they recognized their opponent's identity, their fighting spirit vanished like fog.

Just in time, another earthquake caused debris to fall.

Delac stared at the ceiling and said, "I told you, there is no time. In order to ensure a smooth execution, the lesser races should come out and stand on the left. I promise that those who voluntarily come out won't suffer at all."

His voice was strangely calm and gentle for someone advocating for death. His tone differed from the tone of the Iron-Blooded Lord they had heard about, but no one doubted his identity. His feat upon appearing had been that impressive.

The same was true for Stonegan, who had a blunt personality. This rough rock tribe member stood there in a daze, looking conflicted.

The Iron-Blooded Lord's words were the last mercy he intended to grant them. If they voluntarily gave up their heads, he would let them die without pain. In other words, he would cause them terrible pain if they didn't surrender.

The Iron-Blooded Lord could definitely do that. It made little difference to the Iron-Blooded Lord if he took their lives by force or not. Even if ants found the will to resist, crushing them would only cause the one crushing them to feel a bit more of an inconvenience.

He knew, but who in the world would obediently give up their life?

At that moment, every member of the lesser races had the same thought. Maybe it was because they had just survived a life-and-death battle, but the desire to live burned brighter than ever. Still, none of them dared to act recklessly. After all, Delac's oppressive aura weighed heavily over the area, leaving no one willing to draw their weapon or assume a fighting stance. The only sounds came from their soles intermittently scraping against the sandy ground.

Someone groaned. It almost sounded like a sob.

"Damn."

"This is ridiculous."

"I barely managed to survive. How could I die like this..."

All they could do was mutter in frustration and express their helpless resentment.

Please reconsider just once.

Is there any other way?

They could not even bring themselves to utter such words. Ultimately, the lesser races gathered there consisted of prisoners, and most were far from innocent. No one dared claim innocence before the executioner known as the Iron-Blooded Lord.

At the very least, that was true for the lesser races.

Suddenly, the subjugation force leader, Quaven, spoke up in a trembling voice. However, his words were clear. "Can't you reconsider?"

Delac had been waiting for them to offer themselves up voluntarily. When he heard this, he looked at the boar beastman. "Reconsider?"

"That's right. Of course, I don't know what impact their deaths will have on the demon king or the Dark Church. You are someone who understands the Dark Church better than everyone here, so this must surely be the right method, but these executions are very disgraceful for a warrior."

"You have an interesting perspective. Do you think of the lesser races as warriors?" Delac asked.

"I don't know yet. Perhaps it is just the fleeting sense of camaraderie born from having experienced a life-or-death battle just moments ago. It is an empty, meaningless emotion that will surely vanish tomorrow." Quaven shook his head. "However, I have always lived by listening to my heart. This is no different. If they were to obediently offer their heads to you, I would regret it for the rest of my life."

"Even if that choice meant dying with them? That would be a futile death," Delac said calmly.

"If I were a weak and calculating person, I wouldn't have been dragged to this labor camp in the first place."

Delac sighed. "I'm not going to advise you to surrender. You said so earlier. You wanted to know the name of the person who is going to kill you. Similarly, I just thought you should know why you are going to die."

"Is there no room for negotiation, then? None at all?"

Delac nodded.

Quaven's inner turmoil grew, but it was only for a moment. He looked behind him at the prisoners who were still alive.

Why? The seven races and the lesser races...

Humans, fairies, dwarves, giants, beastfolk, and the winged race were all looking at him with the same expression. The moment Quaven met their eyes, the tension inside him relaxed and a strange lightness settled in his heart.

"From this moment on, as a proud grassland warrior, I will make a choice that I won't be ashamed of for the rest of my life," he declared solemnly before suddenly letting out a low chuckle. "Well, that is just a fancy way of putting it. Simply said, this is suicide, so those who don't want to be killed should step back. I swear on my honor. I won't call anyone who dares to withdraw a coward."

The lesser races were still confused, but the sound of weapons being drawn was heard in reply.

These idiots. Quaven saw that no one intended to back down. The reaction was both unexpected and unsurprising. Most of them had lived simple lives in the first place. By all rights, they should have died long ago, yet they had managed to survive by cooperating with the lesser races. Because of that, he didn't think it would be such a bad thing to turn this place into his grave.

Or maybe these fools think they could survive since he said he is only going to kill the lesser races? This cowardly thought flashed across his mind.

Then, the ceiling of the cave seemed to tremble more violently than before. Suddenly, a loud noise was heard in the distance.

Baaaaaang!

The dust that had just settled started flying around again. It felt like heat had been condensed beyond it and was now exploding. Someone's shadow appeared through the scorching heat and the dust storm.

Delac waved his hand while watching the situation, and the dust retreated all at once.

Several prisoners noticeably reacted when they saw the figure who was finally revealed.

"I-is that..."

"Director?"

A black-scaled lizardman had appeared through the dust, making Delac's eyes narrow.

***

Was I too late? Was I not? I didn't know.

I was in a hurry, but this damn labor camp was very big. In addition, I had spent some time searching for the entrance to the cave. Who would've thought that the entrance would collapse?

Ouch. My damn arm.

I held back my complaints about it. I had just performed the White Sun Eclipse with an already injured body, which had only worsened the condition of my ruined arm. I prayed I wouldn't have to push myself any further, but an ominous certainty told me that would be impossible.

I steeled myself and entered the underground cave. Inside, I found several injured and dead prisoners, a fallen monstrous plant, and the Iron-Blooded Lord standing in the middle of it all.

I couldn't grasp what was fully happening at a glance, but I understood at least one thing: Delac hadn't carried out a massacre yet. Corpses littered the area, but if he had been responsible, they wouldn't have died in such a messy way.

"I-is that..."

"Director?"

The moment I showed up, the prisoners from Block 107 greeted me.

Among the familiar faces, I spotted Leone, who was in the form of Michael. Come to think of it, they were supposed to recruit only the lesser races, but there were far more members of the seven races here than I had expected.

I had many questions, but they weren't ones I could ask with so many eyes watching.

I responded to the prisoners' greeting with a brief glance. I was about to walk past them when a certain beastman grabbed my shoulder.

"Wait."

Who was this?

At first glance, he looked quite strong.

Based on the way he was wearing the armband around his forearm, he had to be the director of another block.

The beastman asked, "Who are you? What are you trying to do by approaching him?"

"My name is Luzard, and I have a rough idea of what's going on. Isn't the Iron-Blooded Lord going to kill all the lesser races present?"

"That's right."

"I shall have a conversation with him first," I said.

"Are you going to talk him into stopping?"

"That's right. Why? Are you dissatisfied with that prospect?"

I deliberately spoke harshly, but the beastman shook his head. "It's nothing like that. I already tried talking to him. Unfortunately, he isn't someone you can reason with."

I looked at the beastman again with a doubtful gaze. Based on his words, he seemed to have sided with the lesser races. This made me feel a bit strange. I had been under the impression that his kind were stubborn, but he was surprisingly flexible.

The beastman said in a low voice, "I understand now that I've talked to him. Bargaining or negotiating won't work on this man. Forcing him to yield using strength is the only option, but there is probably no one in the empire who is stronger than him. That is why he is the Iron-Blooded Lord."

"I know."

I knew better than anyone else here how strong this man was. As his son, I knew this better than anyone.

But so what? Saying something along the lines of "He won't listen, so don't even try to talk to him," was just an excuse. In this world, many people refused to listen to reason.

I approached Delac. Physically, I was much taller, but he was standing atop the monster's corpse, forcing me to look up at him.

I quietly considered my options before carefully speaking. "Iron-Blooded Lord..."

"Speak."

"Can you come over here?" I asked.

"Okay."