Sorcery Monarch

Chapter 19: Killing a Chicken

 

Matthew turned his head to glance at Butler Ralph.

 

Ralph approached the nervous trio, counting out the coins they claimed to have earned and, under the watchful eyes of the crowd, handed them over.

 

The moment the shining gold coins reached their hands, the trio’s courage instantly grew.

 

"If they can do it, why can’t we?"

 

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the convoy became tense and strange.

 

Angela looked at Matthew with confusion, not doubting him but wondering why he was doing this.

 

"Nobles and lords are not supposed to admit mistakes—that’s been the rule for thousands of years!"

 

"Could it be that the lord has his own plan?"

 

Matthew, of course, had no idea what his loyal knight was thinking.

 

Just as he couldn’t understand why some people, knowing they had no chance of winning, still chose the path of greed.

 

Conveniently, these people were offering themselves up as examples.

 

Matthew took a deep breath and asked calmly:

 

"Is there anyone else who thinks their contributions weren’t counted correctly?"

 

"If so, speak up now, and I’ll correct it for you."

 

His words immediately stirred the convoy, with many people huddling together, whispering and calculating their deeds.

 

Only a few remained calm, silently watching the growing unrest.

 

Soon, four more people stepped forward.

 

Ralph, with a wry smile, remained silent, inwardly blaming himself while coldly counting out the money for them.

 

Matthew continued reading out contributions, as if nothing had happened.

 

Meanwhile, Captain Sean, cleaning the mutated fish-men’s corpses, shivered instinctively and muttered to himself:

 

"Some people really have a death wish!"

 

"Ninety-ninth place: Missura. For severely wounding three enemies, you receive 90 silver coins. For participating in battle, you receive 1 gold, 20 silver, and 96 copper coins. Your total: 2 gold, 10 silver, and 96 copper coins."

 

"Lord, I killed one of the mutated fish-men! My comrade Carmel can vouch for me..."

 

"…”

 

"One hundred and fourth place: Ralph Carlisle, deceased."

 

"For severely wounding two enemies, you receive 30 silver coins. For participating in battle, you receive 1 gold, 20 silver, and 96 copper coins. A compensation of 5 gold coins will be issued to your family, totaling 6 gold, 50 silver, and 96 copper coins. This will be sent to your family after we return to the territory."

 

"If your family is not yet free, they will be brought to Bay Village and given the status of free citizens."

 

The entire convoy gasped, staring at Matthew in disbelief.

 

"Compensation? Will the lord actually pay it?"

 

"He will—he’s always honored his promises..."

 

"Ralph Carlisle’s family is lucky; they’ll be free citizens now?"

 

"The lord is truly merciful!"

 

"Indeed, he deserves our loyalty..."

 

Hearing their genuine gratitude, Matthew remained calm, quietly steeling himself:

 

"I’m not a good person. I just want to survive."

 

"And to do that, I must impose my will on the majority."

 

"Only then can I defeat those gods who see humans as cattle."

 

"Only then can I resist the endless demon armies."

 

"Only then can I prevent the world from descending into apocalypse."

 

"In the old timeline, you couldn’t achieve that."

 

"Now, it’s my turn!"

 

"Let’s start with a small goal: destroying the Netheril Empire!"

 

Unaware of their lord’s dark ambitions, to drag them all onto the train of despair and death, the convoy gradually quieted down.

 

"One hundred and fifth place: Hallick, deceased..."

 

"One hundred and sixth place: Zhang Kai, deceased..."

 

Everyone froze, staring blankly at Matthew, waiting for what would come next.

 

The lord raised his hand and gestured to Ralph, who had been ready to act, and then, carrying the sleeping dragonling Yaya, Matthew retreated into the carriage.

 

"That’s it?"

 

"That’s it!"

 

"But there were 124 people who fought! What about the rest?"

 

"Even if they didn’t do much, they should at least get the 1 gold, 20 silver, and 96 copper for participation, right?"

 

"Yeah, what about us, lord? We fought too!"

 

"I severely wounded one of the fish-men! The money may be small for you, but I really need it!"

 

"My family’s in desperate need of money too. Lord, did you perhaps make a mistake?"

 

"…”

 

The murmuring voices made the atmosphere in the convoy strange once again.

 

But soon, they realized that no matter what they said, Ralph, standing silently in their midst, did not react.

 

An oppressive aura emanated from him, weighing on the hearts of everyone speaking.

 

Within ten breaths, the convoy fell into complete silence.

 

With his hands clasped behind his back, Ralph slowly shook his head, his piercing gaze locking onto the most unruly of the porters. His tone brooked no argument:

 

"Everyone ranked after one hundred and seventh, step forward!"

 

Ralph’s voice was deep and commanding, and it instantly shocked the entire convoy.

 

Only now did everyone remember how Ralph had chosen them two months ago.

 

Out of 3,000 porters, he had selected the 100 who had endured to the very end!

 

The porters who hadn’t been called began to look around nervously.

 

Those who had been the most vocal earlier now stood sheepishly.

 

Hesitantly, they stepped forward. Ralph pointed to the 10 or so men and, with a chilling voice, said:

 

"Anyone who isn’t from Kalrad, kneel down!"

 

After a brief hesitation, all of them knelt. Ralph sneered, walking forward and grabbing one man in a black cloak.

 

Without hesitation, Ralph threw him into a nearby mud pit, his voice booming as he revealed the information Matthew had given him:

 

"This man was not only cowardly but, unlike the other 16 who were disqualified from being soldiers, he caused the death of his comrades!"

 

The convoy erupted in shock, everyone staring at Ralph in disbelief. The man in the mud, Kalrado, collapsed in despair.

 

Now, everyone understood that Ralph had spoken the truth. They glared at Kalrado with disgust and hatred.

 

Every fighter naturally despised someone like Kalrado, who had caused the death of his comrades.

 

Kalrado’s face turned pale as he shook his head desperately, shouting at the top of his lungs:

 

"It’s not true! I didn’t do it! This is slander!"

 

"Slander? I’m sure someone saw his actions."

 

"Of course, we don’t need anyone to step forward—the facts speak for themselves!"