Novels2Search
Unliving
Chapter 506 - Settling Old Scores

Chapter 506 - Settling Old Scores

“Some people keep old hatreds alive and pass it on to the younger generation, who would in turn pass it on to their own younger generation, and so the hatred carries on. I have never seen greater folly in my whole life than such practices. Hatred and grudges should be things you handle yourself, not pass on to your distant descendants so they’d die foolishly because of it.” - Saying attributed to the Silver Maiden.

“Right, did you get anything out of those captives we managed to grab?” asked Aideen later that night after the Antemeians retreated to adjourn and rest. To show some courtesy to the reeling Antemeians – they had lost more than half of their elders and nearly three quarters of their necromancers, with the majority of the survivors injured – the Ptolodeccan army had set up their camp outside the city walls.

Naturally, they had also carried the couple dozen prisoners they caught amongst the higher ranked – and usually fanatical – Vitalicans with them. As for the twenty thousand or so surrendered prisoners, those were kept secured by keeping them surrounded with skeletons, so that they wouldn’t dare to cause any sort of trouble.

Given how those ones surrendered rather than fought to the death, chances were good that they’d behave themselves anyway.

The officers were less likely to behave themselves, though.

“We had to gag the remaining ones after the first two to wake up bit off and swallowed their own tongues,” replied Veria with a disgusted tone of voice. “Even when we had them controlled, they aren’t saying anything other than insults and derogatory remarks. Nothing of value out of the few we tried to talk to, at least.”

“Not unexpected, but still annoying to hear,” noted Aideen as she nodded to Veria’s report. Mimia and Èirynn were accompanying their children at the moment, while Calais, Celia, and Kino were with them as well. Aideen saw no reason to bother them especially since she’d be dealing with something more unpleasant and unsuitable for the young minds of the children. “I’ll go over and see if I can’t make them say something.”

“Understood, Milady,” replied the therian necromancer as she opened the tent flap for Aideen to go through.

The two of them headed towards where the high-ranked captives were gathered, which was one of the larger tents. Still, the tent was rather crowded since nearly two dozen people were stuffed together into it, tied up on the floor without the ability to move much, with their mouths gagged securely and their eyes blindfolded.

A couple of Baruk’s heavy infantry stood guard outside the tent’s opening, while the tent itself was ringed by dozens of skeletons all around it, so nobody would have managed to escape without causing a commotion, to say the least. Not unless they were a skilled space affinity mage, and none of the captives seemed to be of that persuasion.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Aideen and Veria entered the tent, accompanied by the two infantrymen who stood guard. After a quick glance over the captives, who noticed their arrival by the sound of their footsteps, Aideen recognized the finely decorated armor worn by the one officer she personally took down earlier that day. She wordlessly pointed her finger at the man and the two infantrymen grabbed one of the man’s arm each as they stood him up.

Then Aideen grabbed the man’s throat with one hand and used her magic to lock the man’s musculature below the neck mostly in place, immobilizing him on the spot.

Only then did she gesture for the guards to remove the man’s gag and blindfold, revealing a young man’s face with well-groomed hair whose features twisted into a rictus of hatred the moment he saw her.

“Witch! Filthy Traitor! Whore! Undead-loving Cur! A pox on you and your filthy masters!” yelled the man uncontrollably as he saw her. He would have probably spat at her too, but Aideen immobilized his mouth before he could do so, which rendered him unable to speak as well as a side effect. Definitely something she didn’t mind doing though.

Of course, given the time that had passed since the coup back then, Aideen knew that the Vitalicans – to think of them using that name made her want to spit out of disgust – would have weaved their own tale to tell their descendants. It hadn’t surprised her that they made them out to be traitors who sided with the undead, since they did seek refuge in Ptolodecca in the end.

What irked her in many ways however was how they called her – and by extension, her people – the traitors when it was them who betrayed the country in the first place. It was a sore point that made her recall the hardships she experienced when she was escorting other refugees from Vitalica to Ptolodecca centuries ago.

As well as how they were the ones who fought and reclaimed the old lands of Vitalica from Antemeia after the traitors had lost it. Yet they had the gall to call her people traitors? To disrespect what her people had gone through and because of their ancestors’ treachery? And above all to say all that straight to her face, someone who had lived through those very days long ago and still remembered them even now?

“I have so many things I wish I could throw into your filthy mouth, but that’d be an insult to the excrement,” intoned Aideen coldly even as she lifted the man off his feet with one hand. She didn’t care much that the man was choking from her grip at the moment. “Even these few words felt wasted on scum like you who twist truths around and hurt those unable to defend themselves, but I guess it’s just common courtesy to let you hear the unpleasant truth before your end.”

“Open your bloody ears well, you dirty quislings! Your ancestors were the traitors! It was your ancestors who betrayed the kingdom whose name you usurped for yourselves, yet you dare claim otherwise!? Your ancestors were the ones who drove us off our homes, then lost it until we won it over with our own hands once more!” she yelled at the captives within the tent. “I don’t give a damn what you have to say or think about it, for the way you conducted yourselves was already plenty to decide your fate, so stew on that, and make peace with whatever twisted version of Vitalis you worship.”

“For I bet when we send you to her the real Deity wouldn’t be pleased with you scumbags.”