Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 831 - 84 Beheading_3
Chapter 831: Chapter 84: Beheading_3 Chapter 831: Chapter 84: Beheading_3 The gentry returned to the expectant militia and relayed Tulin’s words once more.
The militia were utterly disappointed and desperate, some cried on the spot while others whispered among themselves, preparing to flee overnight.
Seeing this, Tulin was anxious and wanted to inform Anglu Ralflavich, the company commander, immediately.
But before he could get up, Anglu sought him out first, accompanied by a strange middle-aged soldier.
Tulin, regardless of the stranger’s presence, hurriedly explained the situation.
Anglu’s expression became serious, while the middle-aged soldier did not seem worried at all.
Instead, he found it quite amusing and looked interestedly at Anglu’s reaction, causing Tulin to be even more frustrated.
...
“This situation,” Anglu scratched his head, pondering, and said, “the Centurion and I discussed what to do, he even gave an example…”
The middle-aged soldier found it increasingly amusing.
“What did the Centurion say to do?” Tulin asked impatiently.
“Establish credibility,” Anglu answered.
The militia and cavalry were convened, and Anglu took out a notice from his bosom titled “Decapitation Decree,” reading it aloud once again.
The cavalry cheered jubilantly, while the militia were still somewhat confused.
Speaking in public, Anglu was a bit embarrassed and reminded them kindly yet shyly, “Hurry and go decapitate, it’ll be harder once it gets dark.”
The members of the cavalry dispersed laughing, while the militia looked at one another, unsure of what to do.
“Let’s go!” Tulin, seeing no one move, grew anxious. He shouted gruffly, waving his sabre to motivate everyone, “If we don’t go now, the young rascals will snatch them all!”
Seeing that still no one dared to move, Tulin cursed furiously.
He swore his way off, and soon dragged back a corpse. Gritting his teeth, he chopped off the head one cut at a time.
Some of the militia vomited on the spot.
Holding the severed head, Tulin yelled fiercely at the militia, “A qing of land! Don’t you want it?”
At that moment, the militia truly understood—the “Decapitation Decree” was in earnest. The head Tulin was holding wasn’t just a swollen corpse’s head, but a piece of land.
Those who reacted quickly were already running towards the corpses of the people from Terdun. The militia member who had just vomited, with food residue still at the corners of his mouth, ran faster than anyone.
The middle-aged soldier could no longer smile, his expression gradually turning solemn.
The middle-aged soldier looked back at his subordinates, noticing many swallowing hard, their eyes filled with surprised gazes—and longing and regret.
“Make it clear to your men,” Anglu, seeing the situation getting out of hand, walked over and told Tulin, “Only allow the taking of heads from enemies they personally killed, anyone caught decapitating their own people or allies faces hanging… and make sure they have helmets or caps as proof…”
These details were all written in the decree, which had just been read. Yet seeing the militia’s fervor, Anglu regretted not reading it several more times.
“Yes!” Tulin instinctively responded affirmatively, he wanted to reconvene everyone, but they were already beyond recall.
Not far off, two militia members were arguing heatedly, one wrapped in a cashmere cloak shouted, “He was clearly killed by me! I shot him dead with my musket! The bullet hole is right there on his body! Do you have a musket?!”
Another skinny militia member in coarse linen clothing retorted stubbornly, “You only shot him off his horse! He wasn’t dead when he fell! I killed him! Your family already has so much land, why are you fighting me over this one head?”
As for the heads of the people from Terdun killed in the random melee, they caused even more disputes and even fistfights, like a bloody and absurd drama.
“The ‘Decapitation Decree’ is too simplistic and crude, it needs more detailed regulations,” Anglu watched the chaos unfolding before him, feeling worried, “At this rate, they might start fighting over the heads while the front is still in battle.”
Tulin, cursing, ran over to stop the fights, “Half for each! Half for each!”
The originally quiet country lane turned as noisy and chaotic as a tavern, but no one clamored to go home anymore.
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