The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 329: Stick their heads on the wall!

The crowd watched in respectful silence as their protector held the woman he loved, both of them finding a moment of peace in the middle of so much chaos and death.

But the moment could not last forever.

There was still work to be done.

Jolthar gently moved Cleora back, his hands resting on her shoulders. "There are still a few things to deal with," he said quietly, and his gaze moved toward the two figures still cowering by the fountain.

He walked past Cleora with measured steps, and she could see the gentleness drain from his face as he focused on the tasks that remained.

By the time he reached the fountain, he had once again become the terrible figure who had defied a deity and emerged victorious.

Lord Eude and the surviving mercenary captain looked up at him with the desperate hope of condemned men who still clung to the possibility of mercy.

But there was no mercy in Jolthar's burning eyes.

Gales was begging for his life, telling him to leave him, making excuses that he was just in it for the money, and acting on Eude's orders.

But Jolthar remained stoic.

Eude was on his knees, already holding his hands together, bowing to Jolthar.

Without a word, he raised his hand and gestured toward a sword that lay abandoned on the ground nearby.

The weapon rose into the air, drawn by an invisible force, and flew through the darkness like a silver arrow.

The blade took the mercenary through the head so quickly that the man barely had time to register what was happening.

One moment he was alive and terrified; the next he was just another body among the ruins of his company.

AHHH!!!!

Lord Eude's scream of terror echoed off the stone walls surrounding the square.

He scrambled backward on his hands and knees, leaving a trail of wetness behind him as his bladder gave way completely. All his arrogance, all his threats and posturing, had been stripped away to reveal the coward underneath.

"Please," he begged, his voice cracking like a child's.

"Please, I have money. I have land. I can pay you anything you want. Just let me live. I'll never come back here again; I swear it on my mother's grave."

Around the square, the people of Tekkora watched in stunned silence.

Many of them were still trying to process what they had witnessed. Their protector had not only defeated a company of hardened mercenaries and a daughter of the deities, but he had also openly defied a deity and lived to tell the tale.

Some faces showed shock and fear at the display of power they had witnessed. These were simple people, farmers and merchants and craftsmen who had lived quiet lives until today. Seeing someone challenge the very deities themselves was beyond their understanding of how the world worked.

But others showed something different in their eyes.

These were the people who had lost friends and family to Lord Eude's cruelty, who had watched their loved ones die for no crime greater than living in a place someone else wanted to control. In their faces was a fierce satisfaction at seeing justice finally delivered to those who had thought themselves untouchable.

Nora, and beside her, Jeanne held the little Mira close to her chest, both of them watching Jolthar with expressions of wonder and gratitude. Jeanne had closed the little girl's eyes, not letting her see the bloodshed or the killings.

Roblan stood with his massive arms crossed over his chest, nodding slowly in approval at what he saw. These people understood that sometimes terrible actions were necessary to protect the innocent.

-

High on the ground, far from the city, Lorryll had witnessed everything through eyes that grew wider with each passing moment.

His carefully laid plans, his subtle manipulations, and his patient scheming—all of it seemed suddenly small and insignificant compared to what he had just observed.

He had expected Jolthar to return changed and powerful.

He had even hoped that the young man might be able to deal with Lord Eude's forces.

But watching someone break divine weapons with their bare hands and then openly defy a deity was beyond anything he had imagined possible.

Sweat poured down Lorryll's weathered face as he tried to process the implications of what he had seen.

The boy had left for more than six months and had returned as something that could reshape the very foundations of the barony. All his careful plans would need to be reconsidered in light of this new reality.

"How the fuck… how the absolute fuck did he get this strong?" he whispered to himself, his voice shaking with a mixture of awe and terror.

Unable to watch any more, Lorryll turned away from the hill and hurried from that place. He needed time to think, time to understand what Jolthar had done all these months. And find out where he had been.

-

Back in the square, Jolthar stood over Lord Eude's cowering form like a judge preparing to deliver a final sentence.

The nobleman continued to beg and plead, offering everything he owned in exchange for his life.

But Jolthar's expression never changed.

"You should have thought of this before coming here. Back when I first saw you, I didn't like the way you looked at my woman. She is mine, and no one should look at her like that."

With a simple gesture of his hand, he reached out with invisible force, taking hold of the sword again, and he slashed his hand in the air.

The telekinetic power of his was swift and precise.

The sound of Lord Eude's neck being slashed was sharp and final in the night air.

His body went limp, his head lolling backward at an unnatural angle, and his begging voice was forever silenced.

For a moment, the square was completely quiet except for the murmur of the people and the whisper of wind through the ruins.

Then Jolthar's voice rang out, clear and commanding, carrying to every corner of the square and beyond.

"Take their bodies and head to the city gates. Put their heads on the spike for everyone to see." He said it out loud, and several of the soldiers stepped forward automatically in response to the authority in his tone.