Chapter 52: A Noble with Humanity!

Although she felt sympathy for these hunters, to ensure her sister’s safety and repay her master’s trust over these past days, Eflan strictly followed Gervas’s orders.

Drawing her bow, her pupils contracted; in the vision only she could perceive, the hunter’s arm stretched infinitely large.

A soft hiss—the arrow flew.

Thud!

A spray of blood bloomed on Pick’s arm.

“Charge! Those who surrender are spared; anyone who resists will be killed on the spot!”

Without further delay, Gervas issued the order for a full assault.

“Surrenderers are spared!”

Amid the shouts, the guards surged forward under the leadership of Lei Meng and Mi Gen.

Whether it was because Pick, the strongest man in the village, had been wounded by a single shot, or because the guards’ aura was terrifying enough,

when the guards reached them, none of the hunters chose to resist.

“You bastards, fight back! If you don’t, you and your families will all be executed by this noble! Hunting on his land is theft of noble wealth—it’s a capital crime...”

Crack!

Despite his injury, Pick still refused to submit—he was immediately knocked flat by Lei Meng, who struck him with the flat of his sword.

But Pick wasn’t rebellious by nature; his father had been persecuted to death by nobles twenty years ago.

Had his mother not fled with him and later, by fortune, joined this hunter village, he would have died long ago.

Thus, his hatred and vigilance toward nobles far exceeded that of the other villagers.

Now, knocked down and spitting blood, Pick was immediately restrained by Mi Gen.

The other hunters, of course, were all surrounded by swords pressed to their heads.

Only a few women and children, sent ahead to the mountain path, still scrambled upward in terror.

“My lord, what should we do with those women and children?”

Gervas looked up at the steep slope, seventy to eighty meters high—even a healthy man would find climbing it dangerous.

Now, the cliffside was filled with children and women; chasing them would surely lead to disaster.

“Leave them for now!”

Gervas decided to search for them later using Zhui Yue.

“Who among you is the village chief?”

“Noble, don’t bother asking. Kill me if you will—I know you won’t spare us in the end.” Pick answered again.

Gervas frowned at Pick.

A stubborn man—admirable, indeed.

But the rule remained: if he opposed Gervas, he would not be spared.

Thud!

“Be still! Do you want to die?” Mi Gen slammed a fist into Pick’s abdomen, bending him into a shrimp-like curl.

The other guards eagerly stepped forward, ready to execute the insolent fool the moment Gervas gave the order.

Kill one to warn a hundred?

Gervas considered it.

But it would be the last resort.

He hadn’t gone through all this trouble just to slaughter them.

He wanted to win them over—to make them serve him. Experienced hunters were rare talent.

“Ah! Little Pick!”

At that moment, a cry echoed from above.

Looking up, they saw a child, five or six years old, slip and fall toward the edge of a thirty- to forty-meter cliff, panicked and losing footing.

Fortunately, a vine had caught the child’s ankle, barely preventing a fall.

But the situation was hardly better.

The vine was weak, the knot insecure; the child dangled upside down, slowly sliding downward—soon, he would drop.

Above, a woman wept and screamed, so desperate to save her child that she too began slipping toward the cliff.

“Mi Ya, Little Pick, no! Someone, save them!”

As Gervas prepared to act, Pick thrashed violently, shouting desperately.

“Ah!” As his cry ended, the child’s mother lost her footing and plummeted rapidly toward the cliff.

“No! Mi Ya...” Pick screamed, his eyes filled with despair.

Whoosh!

A white figure darted from behind the crowd, racing to the cliff’s edge.

The figure was, of course, Gervas and Zhui Yue.

At the very instant the woman was about to strike the ground, Gervas caught her mid-air with perfect precision.

Without pause, Zhui Yue executed a graceful loop, arriving beside the dangling child—Gervas then firmly seized the child in his other hand.

Whoosh!

Zhui Yue landed back on the spot where Gervas had stood.

Mounted on his horse, Gervas held the falling woman in his right hand and the upside-down child in his left.

Pick froze for a moment, then burst into a cry: “Mi Ya! Little Pick!”

The woman and child finally realized what had happened. Gervas nodded to Mi Gen, who released his grip.

Instantly, the woman, the child, and Pick embraced, weeping together.

They wept for over a minute before Pick finally lifted his head.

Thud—he knelt before Gervas.

“Noble lord, thank you for saving my wife and child. I beg you to kill me, to punish me for my insolence!”

“Mi Ya and Little Pick will never defy your orders again—please, in your mercy, let them become your slaves, but spare their lives!”

After speaking, Pik pressed his forehead to the ground and remained motionless.

“Pick!” the woman wept.

“Mi Ya, I insulted the noble lord—that alone was a death sentence. Now he has saved you and Little Pick. Even if I died, it wouldn’t atone enough. So don’t mourn for me!” Pick’s resolve was firm.

The crowd fell silent, all eyes turning to Gervas.

Gervas stepped forward two paces, approaching Pick, then slowly reached for the hilt of his sword.

Instantly, both the villagers and the guards held their breath.

Just as everyone expected Gervas to draw his blade and kill Pick, he released the hilt and waved to Mi Gen.

“Death isn’t that easy. You stole so many game animals from Stormwind Fief—killing you would be too kind.”

“Instead, I will enslave you all. You must capture five thousand large beasts for me. Only when you’ve met that quota will I consider restoring you as serfs of Stormwind Fief.”

“This...” The villagers stared in shock; Pick lifted his head, disbelieving.

“What? You refuse?” Gervas asked coldly.

“No! We accept! Thank you, Lord, for your mercy! Thank you, Lord, for your grace!”

Instantly, Pick banged his head against the ground.

The other villagers did the same, prostrating themselves in relief.

Gervas maintained the cold dignity of a lord, his expression utterly unchanging.

Of course, Gervas’s “coldness” had long been seen through by his subordinates and villagers.

“This master is truly a noble with heart. Perhaps my sister and I are lucky,” Eflan thought, recalling her and her sister’s treatment, and reflecting on the events just now—finally understanding her new master deeply.