“Truly? Please, give it to me, my lord! You know I am loyal to you. I would do anything, anything you ask, so please…”
His voice trembled, and he tried to turn his swollen, pus-riddled face toward Aiden, though his body was far too weak to obey his commands.
“I need you to tell me where you’ve hidden the papers… all of them. You know what I mean. I need to rid myself of anything that might bite me back in the future,” Aiden replied, watching him closely.
The pig hesitated for the briefest moment, doubt flashing in his swollen eyes before he broke.
“Yes, yes, of course, my lord. The papers… they’re hidden in my second wife’s chamber. Behind her private library shelf.”
There was little hesitation in his voice, as if his only thoughts were of salvation.
Surely Aiden was testing his loyalty, he thought. After all, if Aiden had wanted, he could have handed the evidence to the Emperor’s enforcers, dooming him in an instant.
At Aiden’s silent nod, one of the slaves slipped out, noiselessly, without disturbing the fearful silence in the room.
“I hope, for your sake, that the papers are there. It would be unfortunate if this antidote,” he held up an empty hand, “were to slip out of my fingers.”
A violent shudder racked the pig’s infected body as he began coughing and sputtering, the sickly sheen of sweat covering his face.
“I swear it, my lord. It’s true—I wouldn’t dare deceive you.”
After several tense minutes, the slave returned with a stack of documents, bowing as he offered them to Aiden.
Only the soft sound of pages turning broke the silence, each one sending another wave of terror through the pig, who barely dared to breathe.
Aiden examined the papers, a slight smile forming as he confirmed their authenticity.
He tucked the documents into his coat, then leaned close to the man’s ear, his tone deceptively kind.
“Very good, pig. It seems you are indeed loyal. Now, take the reward you deserve.”
He nodded to the slaves.
In his pitiful state, the pig hardly noticed the way Aiden had addressed him.
All he felt was an overwhelming surge of gratitude. Tears leaked from his swollen, infected eyes.
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“Thank you, my lord… this slave thanks you,” he gasped, thinking of the antidote, of the life he would return to.
Just as he began to sob with relief, he felt a sharp tug at his legs.
Thud!
The pig crashed to the floor with a scream as his swollen, pus-filled sores burst from the impact, spilling a sickly mixture across the polished floor.
He was dragged unceremoniously from the room by his ankles, his wails echoing in the hallway.
Opening the door with a kick the slaves dragged his heavy body towards the hallway.
Throwing him like a bag of potatoes against the wall in front of the door.
His cries echoed in the hallway.
The people who were waiting there opened their eyes wide when they saw that. Not believing what had just happened.
“No! Please, stop!” cried one of his wives, horror-stricken as she saw the broken figure of her husband dragged across the marble tiles.
The pig’s children, tears streaming down their faces, reached out to halt the slaves, pleading,
“He’s our father—leave him alone!”
The slaves, unfazed, struck out with brutal efficiency, silencing the pleas with swift, bone-crushing punches.
Thwack— The sharp sound of fists connecting with flesh echoed through the hall.
Each blow was methodical, almost clinical, as they struck down anyone who dared interfere.
Blood sprayed across the walls, staining the hall with streaks of crimson.
Within moments, only the groans of the beaten family members remained, their faces battered and bloody on the cold floor.
Aiden, taking out the stack of documents from his coat, spoke, his voice carrying a chilling authority.
“With the power vested in me by the Emperor, and as Marquis of this territory, I hereby charge this family with every manner of crime,” he announced.
“Embezzlement. Bribery. Kidnapping. Assault. Rape. Murder. Human trafficking. Misuse of the Marquisate’s funds.”
The family’s eyes widened in terror as each word struck like a death sentence.
Whatever pain they felt was quickly drowned in sheer, gut-wrenching fear.
“By my authority, every last possession shall be stripped from you,” Aiden continued. “Each of you shall be reduced to slaves.”
“And as for the head of the house,” his gaze fixed upon the pig, motionless on the floor, “you shall be executed at noon tomorrow.”
The room erupted in cries of despair.
“Please, help! We’re innocent!” a daughter pleaded. “We didn’t know! Please, have mercy!”
The pig lay frozen in shock, his mind unable to process the nightmare unfolding around him.
He could barely think, his words falling into incoherent murmurs.
Aiden’s cold gaze bore into them, his expression as unfeeling as winter’s ice.
His eyes reflected nothing but contempt as he observed their helplessness.
Guards appeared from both ends of the hallway, hauling each of the family members to their feet.
One son, eyes wild with terror, broke into a run, his feet stumbling down the hall.
Aiden’s gaze didn’t waver.
“Cut the tendons of any who try to flee.”
In an instant, one of the slaves appeared behind the son, his sword flashing down to sever both of the boy’s Achilles tendons.
Thud! The boy collapsed, a strangled scream escaping him as he was dragged away, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
Aiden looked down at the pig sprawled motionless on the floor, his expression cold as he signaled the slaves with a curt nod.
The slaves moved in silently, tearing the fabric of his clothes until he lay completely exposed.
Without a hint of mercy, one of the slaves drew his blade and, with practiced efficiency, began peeling away the flesh on the man’s back, pus-filled sores rupturing under the blade's edge.
“Ahhhggg!” The man's agonized screams echoed through the hallway, a guttural cry that pierced the air.
His body writhed, helplessly pinned as the slaves continued their work, their hands trembling slightly under the sheer grotesque weight of their task.