Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
It was a pity that he hadn't noticed how handsome that young man was; had he known, he would have tried to test the waters first. Hearing the words of Big Beard Macorio, who had come over to serve food, John felt a sudden tightening in his stomach. He remembered that many powerful figures in ancient times favored beautiful male servants, despite his own plain appearance.
After preparing lunch on the eighth day, John lay on the grass, staring at the sky in boredom. The remaining slaves in the group were few, and the last ones he saw were covered in wounds, some of which were festering. They looked like nobody wanted them.
Just as he was about to doze off, a loud commotion of crying startled him awake. Rubbing his face, he sat up and looked toward the source of the argument. The few remaining slaves were being kicked to their knees by several mercenaries.
Two mercenaries clad in leather armor raised their curved blades high before swiftly bringing them down. The blades sliced through necks, blood gushing forth as heads rolled onto the ground, bodies tipping uncontrollably to the side. In just a few breaths, all the unsold slaves were dealt with. John was so shocked by the scene that he covered his mouth tightly, afraid to make a sound. He had seen corpses when he first crossed over, but perhaps he hadn’t paid attention then; now, fear surged within him.
A few headless bodies lay not far away, and the mercenaries who had executed them casually moved on as vultures circled overhead, descending to peck at the flesh of the dead.
As evening approached and John prepared meat, he looked at the raw flesh beneath his knife and felt a wave of nausea rising in his throat, yet he dared not stop cutting. He was afraid—afraid that the food wouldn’t meet their tastes, afraid of becoming worthless like those corpses on the ground. He didn’t want to die; he was still young—only fourteen—and had many years ahead of him.
Watching Big Beard Macorio and Captain Poland enjoying their meal with satisfied expressions eased his anxiety somewhat. He still had value; he wasn’t going to die just yet.
Poland speared a piece of beef and chewed it slowly before wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Little John, this beef you cooked today is quite good. I like my steak well done, and this soup is excellent too.”
Hearing the compliment, John quickly bowed his head. “Captain, you flatter me; it’s all part of my duty.”
“Don’t be too formal; you are our chef,” Poland replied kindly. Yet John couldn’t take it too seriously; he remembered that his previous master had been sold to an army two days ago to serve as a cook—he felt like nothing more than a humble servant.
“Captain,” he said with forced cheerfulness, “what would you like for tomorrow?”
“Hm?” Poland pretended to think for a moment before responding. “How about meat soup with rice? I must say, Little John, your soup is something I could never tire of.”
Big Beard Macorio nodded in agreement. “Make sure my portion has extra potatoes; I like it thick for soaking up rice.”
“Yes, my lords. I will prepare tomorrow’s ingredients right away.”
With that, John cleared away the bowls and utensils from the table and respectfully exited the tent. Only once he was far enough away did he dare to breathe deeply; their presence was overwhelming—especially Poland’s noble demeanor paired with his elegant speech gave John an impression of a predatory demon lurking beneath a refined exterior.
Inside the tent, Poland poured himself a glass of whiskey, propping his leg up and staring intently at the glass.
"What do you think of our little chef?" Macario asked.
"His skills are quite good. But Captain, do you want—"
Before he could finish, Macario swiftly drew his sword.
"No, no, no! Don't be so rough. I just meant that since his skills are so good, we shouldn't sell him just yet."
Macario sheathed his sword and nodded. "I understand."
Comment 0 Comment Count