(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
And sorry for not uploading yesterday's chapter I went to hospital.
So here is the second chapter.
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The three village heads dropped to their knees, their arrogance shattered like glass.
"Y–Your Majesty! Please—we beg of you!"
One wailed, clawing at the dirt.
"We were blinded by greed—no, by desperation!"
Another cried, tears streaking his cheeks.
"We won't do it again! Just one more chance, one more chance!"
The third clutched at Ben's boots, his sobbing voice cracked.
Sob~ Sob~
"Mercy, Your Majesty! We'll serve you faithfully! We'll devote everything to the village! Spare us!"
Their pleas rose in pitiful harmony,
A chorus of desperation that echoed across the silent crowd.
But Ben did not answer.
"____"
"____"
"____"
He remained seated, eyes as cold as steel, his silence heavier than any sword.
Nero shifted faintly on his shoulder in her bird form, her beady eyes gleaming down at the groveling men, almost as if judging them too.
She had just arrived here after flewing all the way here.
And witnessed the earlier scene caused by this old men's in her bird eyes they were trash.
The villagers, who had come expecting answers, now stood frozen in place.
Mothers clasped their children tighter unknowingly feeling the heavy atmosphere.
While the children's looked curiously at the old men's who usually act all mighty was bowing to a big brother before them.
Old men pressed their hands together as though in prayer.
None dared speak.
None dared interrupt the weight of the King's judgment.
Only Mereoleona broke the silence, her voice sharp and mocking as fire.
"Look at them,"
She scoffed, crossing her arms.
"The so-called leaders of your villages. Crying, begging, groveling like rats. This is the kind of filth that tried to cheat not just you, but your Kingdom."
Gasps rose from the villagers, their faith in their leaders collapsing in an instant.
Whispers followed—
Anger, betrayal, disgust.
Still, Ben said nothing.
He simply watched, letting the chiefs stew in their own fear,
Letting the villagers' hearts turn against them before he delivered his final word.
The silence snapped like a taut string.
A young man from the crowd —
Dirt under his nails, eyes hollowed by hunger and months of toil —
Surged forward.
"Die BloodSuckers! Sucking our hard work like that."
He shouted one curse, that cut through the square,
Then hurled a fist-sized stone with all the fury of every burned harvest, every hungry winter.
Thud.
It struck the nearest chief squarely between the eyebrows.
Ahhhh~
The old man's scream ripped the air, grotesque and human,
As blood spattered across his trembling fingers.
He staggered back, clutching his brow, eyes rolling in shock at the warm slick on his skin.
That single act was the dam breaking.
One by one, faces in the crowd hardened.
Mothers who had once defended their chiefs now stepped forward, men who'd stood silent in the fields reclaimed their voices.
Stones were snatched from the dirt;
Hands shook not with fear now but with a terrible, righteous anger.
They aimed, they threw.
The three chiefs were pelted.
Each blow landed like a verdict —
Not quick, not merciful, but unequivocal.
The square filled with the sound of bricks and pebbles striking flesh, with ragged screams and the wet patter of blood on dust.
Begging turned into stuttering pleas; pleas into silence.
Royal Knights moved instinctively, armor clinking as they reached for their spears —
Then froze under Ben's raised hand.
"____"
"____"
"____"
He did not shout them back.
He simply watched.
There was no savoring cruelty in his eyes, no sadistic delight —
Only a cold, hard restraint and the grim calculus of a leader letting his people purge a wound.
The villagers' blows were not senseless cruelty;
They were the eruption of long-smoldering betrayal.
In their faces Ben could read what words could not say:
The cost of complacency, the hunger turned to fury,
The justice they felt had been denied by those who should have protected them.
Mereoleona's laugh had vanished.
"____"
She stood silent, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with the soldier's clear understanding of how to break an enemy's spirit.
When the stoning finally slowed, it left the three chiefs broken on the ground, dazed and crimson, their voices lost in coughing.
The crowd's shaking breaths filled the square.
Many wept, some spat, a few simply stood frozen, astonished at the force of what they'd done.
Ben descended from his place once the chaos ebbed, stepping forward through the trampled dirt as the villagers parted for him with a mixture of fear and relief.
He knelt beside the nearest chief just long enough to be seen, then stood.
"Let this be a lesson to any who think they can exploit the people for their own gain,"
He said, voice carrying across the hushed square.
"You will answer for what you did. I am not a king who turns a blind eye."
His words were final.
The villagers listened —
Some with eyes wet, some with fury still smoking in their hands.
The knights moved now, not to punish the crowd but to secure the chiefs and prepare them for the judgment that would follow:
A formal trial, restitution, and a public reckoning that would be seen by the entire region.
The moment had burned itself into the villagers' memories.
It would change more than the three men on the ground.
It would change how those people measured leadership, loyalty, and the price of greed.
The square went quiet again as Ben watched the three men crumple in the dirt, their faces a map of blood and shame.
The villagers' stones lay scattered at their boots; the taste of vengeance and relief still lingered on the air.
Ben's voice cut through the hush, low and terrible in the way only a sovereign's voice can be.
"Enough."
The Royal Knights stilled.
the squad leader stepped forward, awaiting the command.
Ben walked slowly through the churned earth until he stood above the nearest chief.
He looked at the men the way a farmer measures a rotten crop —
Not with glee, but with the cold certainty that it must be removed.
"You burned your people's livelihood,"
Ben said, each word deliberate.
"You stole the kingdom's relief and fed yourselves while your neighbors starved. For that, you will face the law — and the consequences will be seen by every man, woman, and child who trusted you."
He turned to squad leader.
"Strip them of their titles and their lands. Confiscate everything they took in the Crown's name. Return every last coin to the villages. Then—arrange a public sentencing."
Murmurs rose through the crowd.
Ben held up a hand and raised his voice so everyone could hear.
"These men will not die as martyrs nor vanish behind closed doors. They will be made to repair what they broke."
"They will labor openly in the fields they burned, under the watch of the Royal Knights, until the villages no longer suffer for their crimes."
"Their estates will be parcelled out to those they wronged. Their names will be struck from every register. They will wear the robes of shame and work the soil. If they survive the reckoning, they will spend the rest of their days rebuilding what they destroyed."
The three chiefs scrambled to their feet, trembling, begging once more —
And Ben did not raise his voice.
He let their pleas be swallowed by the crowd.
"Additionally,"
Ben continued,
"They will stand trial at the county court. If found guilty of treason against the crown, they will be imprisoned for life. Until then, they will wear rags in public, their heads shorn, their mouths forced to tell the truth to anyone who asks. Let every traveler who passes by know them for what they are."
A hush —
Then a sound like a broken thing letting out air.
The villagers were not shouting now; their faces had gone solemn.
Some nodded, others wept.
Nod~
For too long their anger had been smothered.
Now they felt something else: the relief of a wound finally being cleaned.
Squad leader moved like a shadow, efficient and unsentimental.
Knights closed on the three men;
Some of the villagers stepped forward, taking back deeds and trinkets that the chiefs had hoarded.
A squad carried the confiscated sacks of coin and the ledgers found in the chiefs' rooms out onto the square, the royal seal already set over the bags.
Mereoleona watched with a tight, satisfied grin.
Grin~
"Let them eat the work they forced others to do," she muttered.
Ben spoke once more, softer now.
"Arrange shelter and care for the old man and his grandchildren. Distribute the recovered funds evenly to those who lost everything. Reopen the fields with immediate effect — the Crown will pay for seed and labor until the harvest returns."
The villagers began to move —
Some with purpose, some still trembling —
To receive what had been taken from them.
A handful gathered around the three fallen chiefs and, under the watchful eyes of the Knights, tore the remnants of fine robes from their shoulders and set them aside.
As the men were led away in rags, heads shaved, and hands empty,
The lesson was carved into the memory of every witness:
Greed, cloaked as necessity, would not go unpunished under this king.
The punishment was public, humiliating, and practical —
It returned what was stolen, it put wrongdoers to work to repair the damage,
And it made an example out of them for anyone who might think to imitate their crime.
Ben remained standing for a moment longer, watching the villagers gather the redistributed coin, watching Nero curl closer on his shoulder.
[Mission: Teach a lesson to the four village chiefs.]
[Objective: Confront the perpetrators and ensure order is maintained.]
[Status: Completed.]
[Reward: +150 FP]
[ Ding... ]
[ FP Bar: 212/500 ] --> [ New Alien: ??? ]
[ Ding... ]
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(Author's POV)
(A/N)Thanks for reading the chapter!
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