Faerun: The arcane mage is still too imprisoned.

Chapter 135 Killing the Chicken to Warn the Monkey

Everyone silently grumbled in their hearts, and not a single person spoke up in support of Byron and his group.

The nobles who instigated them only wanted to divide up their property after they fell.

The council chamber was quiet for a short while before Viscount Byron couldn't hold back any longer; he simply couldn't tolerate this kind of passive-aggressive behavior.

Moreover—they are nobles of the kingdom, shouldn't the prince favor his own people?

Even if we don't favor the nobility, we can't be too biased towards Lance, can we?

He stepped forward, his face filled with grief and indignation, and cried out, "Your Highness! Please, do justice for us! The mage Lance has been indiscriminately slaughtering innocent people in the city. In just over ten days, four noble families of Rield have been brutally massacred!"

"Such atrocities are intolerable to both heaven and law! We beg Your Highness to severely punish the perpetrators and restore justice to the noble family of Rield!"

At his shout, several nobles behind him stood up in unison and began to wail, each acting more convincingly than the bards, as if they had suffered a great injustice.

"Your Highness! Viscount Byron's words are absolutely true! Lance is lawless, treating the lives of nobles like dirt, and completely disregarding the rules of the kingdom!"

"This trend must not be allowed to continue, Your Highness! Today he can slaughter these nobles at will, tomorrow he can hold a knife to our throats, and the day after he can disregard you and His Majesty the King!"

"Your Highness, please punish Lance severely as a warning to others!"

"You damned Lance, why did you kill them?!"

The wailing echoed through the council chamber.

The group shouted louder and louder, as if they had suffered a great injustice.

They were already calculating in their minds: Lance was like a paladin, wiping out twenty gangs in just one week.

Actually, they could tolerate this; it was just a matter of losing a few black gloves.

But Lance even dared to wipe out the nobility!

How can this be allowed?!

Most of them were from the evil faction, although Lance seemed to be busy with other things in the following days and didn't find them.

But how can you guard against thieves for a thousand days if you're a thief for a thousand days?

Moreover, as the war began, Lance's reputation grew, and they lived in constant fear, terrified that he might come after them one day.

Rather than waiting to be killed, it's better to strike first!

The prince would definitely protect the interests of the nobles of the Kingdom of Eredland and suppress Lance, this outsider mage.

As long as they can use the prince to bring down Lance, they can rest easy.

As for Lance's illustrious military achievements?

In their eyes, that must be an exaggeration. They all described Lance as a god. How could that be?!

Alfred frowned, about to speak, but Lance moved first.

Lance slowly stood up from his chair, patted off non-existent dust from his clothes, and had a half-smile on his lips.

He took two steps forward and stood in front of the kneeling nobles, looking down at them, which sent a chill down the spine of Viscount Byron and his companions.

Before I answer your questions, I also have something I want to ask you.

"Just as you say—why would I kill them?"

This left Byron speechless, unsure of what to say. "You—"

Lance didn't give him a chance to react, continuing, "That's because they harmed citizens, colluded with cults, and helped the cults sacrifice innocent children. Luckily, I stopped them!"

"What evidence do you have?"

Upon hearing this, Lance gave a low, cold laugh, looked up at him, and his eyes were filled with mockery that was almost overflowing.

There is evidence, of course, but since so many nobles are present, perhaps it would be better to—

"Evidence? Completely fabricated!"

These words immediately caused an uproar in the council chamber.

Byron, as if he had seized upon a tremendous incriminating evidence, pointed at Lance and then turned to Alfred, crying out frantically, "Your Highness! You heard that! He has no evidence whatsoever! He's just indiscriminately killing innocent people! He has no regard for the law, Your Highness!"

Alfred slammed his hand on the table, stood up abruptly, his face filled with fury.

"Lance is right!"

"In that case, Lance's killing was not without reason, and he is not to blame."

Byron cried out urgently, "Your Highness, Lance didn't—"

"Shut up!" Alfred shouted angrily. "Would Lance deliberately lie to us?!"

"Your Highness!" Byron exclaimed again, "We are the nobles of the kingdom! Why do you trust an outsider?!"

"I must remind you," Alfred said coldly, "that the mage Lance will soon be ennobled as a marquis, becoming one of your superior nobles, with the city of Rild as his fief."

"You cannot slander a marquis with such a distinguished military record."

"ah?!"

Byron stared in disbelief, "Lance? He...he...he—"

He was trembling like a leaf, his lips quivering, and he tried to explain, "Your Highness, no, we—we don't know anything about these things, we just—"

"Just what?"

Lance took a step forward, looking down at him with a cold smile. "You're speaking up for these cultists, so eager to plead their innocence. I think you're clearly one of their accomplices!"

Upon hearing this, Byron reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, instantly bristling with fur and screaming, his face turning deathly pale: "No! I'm not! I have absolutely nothing to do with them! You're making false accusations!"

Alfred ignored his explanation and waved his hand dismissively: "Mage Lance is right. Men, take him away and torture him severely. Let's see how many accomplices he has and how many things he's hiding from us!"

Two elite warriors rushed in from outside and lifted Byron, who was lying on the ground, up from the left and right.

Byron then realized what was happening and struggled frantically, screaming, "Your Highness, spare me! I was wrong! I'll never do it again! Mage Lance, spare me!"

His pleas for mercy were to no avail. The two soldiers dragged him away expressionlessly, and his screams grew fainter and fainter until they disappeared at the end of the corridor.

The remaining nobles who had filed the complaint were terrified. They knelt on the ground, kowtowing repeatedly until their foreheads bled, crying out, "Your Highness, spare our lives!"

"Mage Lance, spare my life!"

"We'll never do it again!"

Lance didn't even bother to glance at them; these guys were even less worthy of his attention than Viscount Byron.

Alfred glanced at them coldly and scoffed, "Take all these people away and interrogate them one by one! Anyone connected to the Hand of Hunger will be charged with treason! Their property will be confiscated, their titles stripped, and there will be no leniency!"

"yes!"

The guards immediately stepped forward and dragged the terrified nobles out like dead dogs.

The noisy council chamber fell silent instantly.

The surrounding nobles swarmed around him, showering Lance with praise, lavishing him with titles like "young hero" and "guardian of Rield" as if they were free.

Meanwhile, in the corridor of the city lord's mansion, two elite warriors dragging Byron out were chatting in hushed tones.

After walking a distance, the younger guard Jerry couldn't help but lower his voice and quietly ask the older guard Tom next to him.

"Brother Tom, do you think this Byron is really an accomplice of cultists?"

His face showed a mixture of confusion and unease.

After all, Lance had only asked casually in the council chamber and hadn't presented any evidence.

Tom glanced at him, but didn't stop walking. His tone was very calm, as if he were talking about something very ordinary.

Does it matter?

Jerry froze for a moment, stopping in his tracks, and looked at Tom with a puzzled expression.

"Isn't that important? What if we wrongly accuse an innocent person?"

Tom sneered, glanced down at Byron who was being dragged along like a lump of mud, his eyes filled with indifference.

Whether someone is guilty or not is not for him to decide, nor is it for us to decide.

"We'll throw him into the dungeon and torture him. He'll obediently write down all the necessary confessions."

"Since it was written down, then it's a crime."

Jerry swallowed hard, a chill running down his spine, and his palms sweating.

He opened his mouth, then asked in a low voice.

"What if he absolutely refuses to admit it?"

Tom didn't turn his head, his steps were steady, and his tone was calm, yet it carried a chilling clarity.

"To withstand such severe torture, this person is no ordinary cult member."

"He must be a well-trained cult member! We must strike hard!!!"

The young soldier understood instantly, shuddered, and dared not ask any more questions.

Yes, what matters has never been whether he is an accomplice or not.

The important thing is that he offended the person that Rield City could not afford to offend right now—the mage Lance.

His fate was sealed the moment he decided to sue Lance.