"Bring them in."
Hel's tone was curt. She'd thought she'd overestimated the nobles under her—surely they wouldn't abandon their posts mid-battle while still bearing loyalty tags, would they? As it turned out, she had overestimated them.
They hadn't fled before because they couldn't: if they ran, their titles would be stripped and their entire houses implicated. If they stayed and survived the war, their heirs could still inherit titles and lands. Now that the Duke's order had come down, they had no more qualms. They didn't merely want to flee; they wanted to drag Hel off with them.
Just as Hel had feared—only she'd expected cowards like Father Gerhard to do such a thing. She hadn't expected the nobles themselves to be so spineless.
"Lord, the Duke has issued orders. What do you insist on?" one noble began to plead.
"Indeed, Lord. Heim City's walls held because the attackers were only minor beastmen. If the main beastmen force comes, with their Exalted, how could low walls like ours stop them?" another added.
"Lord, the cities we lost were massacred. If you won't think for yourselves, think of the ten thousand citizens of Heim City," yet another implored.
Once Hel had let the nobles into the keep, they immediately went into persuasion mode. When disaster strikes, each bird flies its own way. These cowardly noblemen—despite the blood-slave tags affecting them—still had the nerve to try to convince Hel to flee with them. The effect of the blood-slave tag was impressive, apparently.
Hel had no desire to force them to stay. In truth, she'd already been considering removing these nobles; now they'd done her the favor of exposing themselves.
"All right, you may leave. It's your choice." Hel scanned the gathered nobles; every one of them dropped their heads under her gaze.
Then, in a cold voice, she added, "But you may not take your peasants with you."
"You can't take them? Lord, that's not proper!" one noble snapped. To a lord, one's populace was property—without them, how could one raise private troops or cultivate lands? Even under the blood-slave influence, they bristled at the idea of Hel separating them from their people.
"You can also choose to stay," Hel replied coolly, unwilling to argue further.
Her intent cowed most of them—yet Uriel stayed unbowed. "Heh, Fourth Young Master, you don't have the right to strip these nobles of their private property, do you?" he sneered.
"Private property?" Hel shot back at Uriel. "You really treat your people as property? If I remember right, the Underworld Empire banned human slavery centuries ago. Are you openly defying imperial law?"
Witt chimed in to smooth things over. "As our lord says—the Underworld Empire values honor and dignity. By 244 it had issued laws abolishing all human slavery-related systems," he reminded the room.
Uriel snorted coldly. "Ha. At worst you'll lose some coin. The peasants' ancestors owed those nobles much already—debt passed down, generation after generation. Even if the debt took ages, it wouldn't be repaid. Do you expect them to die here and leave that debt unpaid? They have every right to leave."
Uriel's words reflected a grim reality across the Underworld Empire's remote domains. The formal abolition of slavery had largely been a façade: the old slaves simply took on a new name and status—serfs—still brutally exploited by petty nobles.
"So why must they go?" Hel asked bluntly.
Uriel was taken aback. He thought he'd made the situation crystal clear—why was Hel arguing? "They owe money to these lords. They're not actually sold as slaves; whether they stay is not for their overlords to decide."
"You're twisting facts." Uriel bristled. "Paying debts is natural—do you expect them to refuse repayment?"
"Did I say they shouldn't pay?" Hel looked puzzled. Yes, many of these serfs had been forced into crushing debts, but she had no intention of simply canceling those debts now—doing so would accomplish little. In this world of Exalted, there's no moral grandparent who forgives debts; power decides outcomes. Yet she also had no intention of forcing them to repay under duress—if someone dies, the debt dies, too.
Facing the nobles who had betrayed her, Hel had already been moved to action. She looked straight into Uriel's eyes and asked plainly: "One question—are these people free?"
After a long silence, Uriel ground his teeth and spat angrily, "Yes."
"Good. Then their staying or leaving is their own choice. I'll give them that choice." Hel turned to Sebas. "Send word: everyone in the city, assemble at Heim Square. I have an announcement to make."