Episode 52
The villagers gathered in the square, whispering nervously as they stared at the gallows. Having lived their entire lives on the frontier, none of them had ever seen such a strange and terrifying execution device before. Behind them, the Bratz estate stood quietly on the hilltop, as serene as ever.
“Hanging, huh?”
“Tax evasion is a serious crime, but he even resisted arrest.”
“Good heavens… how did it come to this…?”
“So they took all our taxes but never sent them up the chain? Where did all that money go?”
“Probably straight into their own pockets, making them fat and bloated.”
“That bastard! We sold our homes just to pay those taxes. My daughter’s back bent from working the fields since she could barely walk!”
“Hey, keep your voice down. You want to get us all in trouble?”
“Who cares? He’s no noble now—just a criminal. If he’s going to die, let him do it quietly. Why did the soldiers even start this?”
“Exactly. If we’d known it would come to this, we never would have sent the kids to the estate…”
“If only the count hadn’t done what he did, none of this would have happened. We lost our money, our homes got wrecked in the fighting…”
To them, hanging was the ultimate disgrace. As a noble, especially one who ruled on the border against barbarian tribes, it was proper to die by the sword.
To be left dangling and struggling in front of the common folk—that was a punishment that killed not only the body but the dignity.
“But the gallows were made by the Cheonryeo tribe?”
“Who else could haul those massive logs around?”
Ironically, it wasn’t the Bariel people but the neighboring barbarians who were preparing the gallows for Derga’s execution. Though they had never built such a device before and were following the investigation team’s orders, the atmosphere felt less like they were being commanded and more like they were in control.
“Ah, just say it all at once. Don’t make me go back and forth.”
“S-sorry. After setting up the pillars, we just need to tie them tightly with ropes to secure everything.”
From the high platform facing the gallows, Kakantir looked down at the villagers in the square and the slowly taking shape execution device, feeling a strange mix of emotions.
Only a few months ago, Derga had been caught in a delicate balance between allies and enemies. Now, the leader was about to be hanged in front of the very people he ruled, while Kakantir watched from above.
“Life is truly unpredictable.”
Meanwhile, inside the estate, Erika was wracking her brain over the proclamation she was drafting. It was an important task—to explain Derga’s crimes in terms the commoners could understand, while asserting the authority of the palace and her own achievements to the world.
Clatter.
Below, Ian arrived at the underground prison. Derga was confined in the last cell, gagged and blindfolded. His swollen limbs hung shackled, dangling helplessly. He looked close to death.
“Open the door.”
Click.
Without hesitation, the Cheonryeo guards obeyed Ian’s order. Derga’s ears twitched at the sound of Ian’s voice, which reeked of rot and blood.
“Count Derga. It’s Ian.”
“Ugh…”
They no longer addressed each other as father and son. Derga flinched at the name, the chains rattling ominously.
Clink, clink.
“The execution date has been set.”
“…!”
“I heard you sent a letter to the palace in that short time. Looks like you even tried to inform Prince Marib.”
Derga looked up at Ian, but his eyes were covered, so his expression was unreadable. Still, Ian sensed the turmoil behind the blindfold.
“Thanks to you, Erika won’t receive the lordship certificate. She’ll have to leave Bratz in a hurry, and your execution has been moved up.”
Derga tried to strike out with all his strength, but his fists never reached Ian.
He regretted it. When he first brought her from the brothel, he should have crippled her somehow, just as Mary had warned. What did he care about appearances?
“…Ugh!”
“Mary and Chel are dead too.”
“…”
“You’re the last surviving Bratz. Congratulations. You’ve earned a glory no one else can claim.”
Derga’s face flushed red, blood seeming to surge backward. Ian grabbed his hair and delivered his final words.
“Don’t be too bitter. It’s all your own doing.”
The child born from raping a woman in a brothel. The same child sold away from his mother and abused regularly. The secret schemes he pulled behind the Cheonryeo’s back out of greed. The excessive taxation that alienated both the central government and the villagers.
From start to finish, he had brought this on himself.
“Ian, Lord Kakan is calling for you.”
“I’m going out.”
Ignoring Derga’s silent screams, Ian left the underground prison.
Outside, rows of spears taller than any man stood in formation.
“Hey, Sir Ian. Take a look at this.”
“What is it?”
“Think the spear lengths are sufficient?”
Ian scanned the spears meant to pierce Derga’s heart, then glanced toward the window where Erika stood.
“This is the centerpiece of the execution. We should mention it in the proclamation.”
“Hmm. Good idea.”
Unintentionally, Ian caught Erika’s weary gaze. When their eyes met, she irritably drew the curtain closed.
Swish!
‘Damn this situation.’
Erika muttered curses, clutching her head. There was no explanatory letter from Molin. Since he knew the council’s decision, the messenger should have arrived around the same time.
“Damn it, that old fool!”
Meeting Molin in person might have solved things, but once Derga was executed, they’d have to leave Bratz. Ian and the Cheonryeo wouldn’t allow them to stay. Even if the letter had been sent, it would only be halfway here by now…
“This won’t do. I need to come up with a plan.”
Erika pondered deeply, then pulled out fresh paper and began writing a letter demanding an explanation from Molin, also addressed to Prince Marib.
As the saying goes, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” To avoid being left chasing after chickens, it might be wise to open a channel in that direction.
Swish.
Instead of a seal, Erika pricked her thumb and dabbed it in blood. The magical potion would verify her identity.
“Lady Erika, I’ve brought the documents you requested.”
“Ian’s done a thorough job packing these.”
“They’re detailed enough to go straight out.”
“What a nuisance. Put them there.”
The investigation team handed Erika the crucial evidence of Derga’s tax evasion, which she carefully incorporated into the proclamation.
So that on the day of his death, the villagers would understand the meaning behind it.
The day finally arrived—the day after the gallows were completed. Everyone in the estate gathered outside near the entrance to the underground prison.
“Bring out Derga.”
“Yes, Sir Ian.”
Two Cheonryeo warriors descended and dragged Derga out.
“Derga Bratz. The time has come for your execution.”
Derga trembled violently at Erika’s words. His limbs were weak, and his eyes and mouth remained covered. Erika signaled her subordinates to lead him to the square.
“Move quickly.”
“Huh? He’s dragging his feet.”
Barefoot, Derga stepped onto Bratz land, forced to show his penance. With every slow step, the chains clanged. Like a beast being led to slaughter, he hung his head low.
“Derga Bratz. Move.”
Crack!
“…Ugh!”
The investigation team had no choice but to lash him with a whip. Groaning, Derga took a step forward, barely able to resist.
“That’s Count Bratz…”
“My goodness, what a sight.”
“His skin’s worse off than ours after being flayed!”
“Die! Die! You sucked our blood and killed our families! Because of you!”
“Is that really… Derga?”
On the way to the square, the villagers’ gasps echoed from all sides. They had never seen their lord so broken. The shock was palpable, and the same words repeated until they reached the square.
Is that really Derga? That was the question on everyone’s lips.
“Go up.”
“Ugh…”
Swish! Thud!
“Derga! Was this really your best?”
“You bastard! You should have done better!”
“Die in pain! Please!”
All his past sins exploded at once. As Derga hesitated on the steps, stones flew at him.
Some shouted that their wives had been abused by him; others claimed they’d been crippled from beatings over unpaid taxes. The names Mary and Chel were whispered too.
“Did they catch Mary and Chel?”
“Not sure.”
“But if they’re alive, it’s not a total annihilation, right?”
“I heard the remaining investigators will join the pursuit after the execution.”
“Really? So the outsiders are all leaving.”
“The Cheonryeo remain, but they won’t last through winter.”
“Ah! Finally, life returns to normal.”
Whoosh…
A member of the investigation team blew the water buffalo horn. The noisy crowd gradually quieted down. Soon, Commander Erika stood beside Derga and raised the proclamation.
“I am Verti Erika, head of the Imperial Investigation Unit. By the authority of His Majesty the Emperor, I hereby announce the charges against the criminal, Count Derga Bratz.”
She then read aloud, in painstaking detail, the accusations and evidence they had gathered against Derga.
To the common folk listening, most of it was incomprehensible jargon. Yet, the longer the list went on, the deeper their anger grew—anger at the corruption Derga had committed, and at how it had drained their very lifeblood and sweat.
“Specifically, the coal mine in Monne produced 60,000 tons, but only half was reported to the central government. The resulting profit gap amounts to a staggering 8,000 gold coins. And this is only a fraction of the wealth that has been concealed over the past several years…”
“What? Eight thousand gold coins?”
“Did I hear that right?”
Ian, standing below, could feel the heat rising from the crowd. The exact production numbers and profit percentages meant nothing to them. All they understood was that this was a fortune—gold coins stolen from their hands.
“You bastard! How could you do this?”
“Kill him! Kill him now!”
Stones and trash flew up from the crowd once more. Commander Erika ignored the growing pile at her feet and finished reading the final sentence.
“For this crime, the Bratz family shall face eternal death within the Bariel Empire. By imperial decree, the Bratz lineage is hereby extinguished.”
Crack!
At that moment, a stone struck Derga hard on the temple. Erika gave a sharp glance to her team, signaling them to proceed with the execution.
“Remove his blindfold.”