Veil of Destiny

Chapter 17 Deception and betrayal

Early winter in the town of Le Mans was serene and tranquil, with a gentle warmth permeating the air. The old trees in the town shivered in the cold wind, occasionally shedding a few withered leaves. The mountain villagers, having toiled throughout the year, began their winter rest. Hunters would occasionally venture into the mountains to catch some game, adding a bit of flavor to their families' meals. The villagers, simple and steadfast, had grown resilient in their harsh environment.

The winter sun cast a warm glow on the crowd gathered in the town square. The elderly mayor, Ian, was delivering an impassioned speech. A simple amplification spell allowed his weakened voice to reach every ear. Ian had donned his mage's robe, a rare sight—he hadn't worn it in thirty years, back when he was a fiery adventurer.

"Gentlemen! I have served as the mayor of Le Mans for twenty years. In all these years, our town's peace has never been disturbed. We labor daily, building warm homes with our own hands, loving our wives, and raising our children. We have fought against floods, droughts, and beasts. The scars on our bodies are the marks of these struggles, the pride of real men! We have never retreated in the face of threats to our families because we are defending the land our ancestors have lived on for generations. We are the proud children of the mountains!"

A round of applause erupted. Ian paused, then continued, "But now, this peace is about to be shattered. A few despicable, ruthless nobles claim to be the owners of this land. This land belongs to us, the children of the mountains. Yet these nobles not only want to take our land, they want to steal the last piece of bread from our hands, the last apple from our children! These nobles," Ian paused, raising his voice, "demand we pay a tax of five gold coins per household each year!"

A gasp arose from the women, followed by angry shouts from the men. "Kill these nobles!" "Drive them back to the capital!" "No one will take our land!" A sharp child's voice rang out, "Fuck these nobles' grandmothers!" Laughter ensued, though the child's mother blushed furiously, clamping down on her mischievous son.

Ian waited for the crowd to quiet down, then continued, "When I first came to this town, Barm was barely able to climb trees." The tall blacksmith, bandaged and half-lying on a stretcher, chuckled awkwardly. "But these nobles injured him as soon as they arrived. They shamelessly harassed the town's most beautiful girls! Our wives and daughters have suffered indescribable humiliation." Several young women began to sob.

"That's not all. Look at what they did to my son, Guta!"

Guta was helped out by two sturdy young men. The townspeople silently observed his bandaged ankle, tattered clothes, and festering face, the most shocking being the branded mark of a laborer on his face. "How can these nobles turn commoners into laborers at will?" a young woman cried, rushing forward. She was Guta's lover. "Guta, what did they do to you?"

Ian raised his hands high. "Our survival is no longer guaranteed! Our wives and daughters are on the brink of being defiled! I, Ian, a ten-level mage, will challenge these nobles! Today's matter will be settled to the death! And you," Ian's voice softened as he addressed the crowd, "my children, you must go to the capital to appeal, to the church to appeal. Just as the night will end, justice will replace evil! May the gods bless you!"

The atmosphere in the square reached its peak.

Suddenly, the sound of hurried hoofbeats echoed, and 150 fierce "Dragon and Beauty" knights charged into the square, surrounding the crowd. Though the villagers were tough, they were intimidated by the fully armed knights. The once noisy square fell silent. The knights parted, and the despised nobles rode in on their tall horses.

Guta suddenly screamed hysterically, "It's him, that demon!" The once strong man now seemed like a mouse cornered by a cat, terrified yet desperate to fight back. He pointed tremblingly at the nobles. The crowd followed his finger to see Dorian, clad in black armor, casually holding a battle axe, smugly astride his horse.