Chapter 1829 Lord Camelot
Chapter 1829 Lord Camelot
Carefully running his massive ring, Camelot turned to face his men with a cold glint in his eyes, "This Rebel Phantom… her grudge isn't ordinary. If we want to find the person behind her, we must first find her identity." "Any clues?" His man gave each other tactful stares, and then one person stood forward, "Master, although we aren't sure yet, from the whore's actions, she might be an escaped slave who might have been under our care at some point." "Yes, master. Perhaps she's a daft one, thinking we owe her some idiotic blood debt." Everyone sneered. What was the use of a woman if not to open and close her legs when being told to.
Why get angry at them for providing enough men to sample her goodies? For the life of them, they just couldn't understand women like this. Listening to his men, Camelot also felt it must be so. The whore must be thinking she is someone special to make them owe a blood debt to her. How pathetic. Camelot swore that should he catch the slut, he would pin her down and make sure he keeps her that way for a year, before moving on to a more befitting punishment worthy of her crime. "Master, we have already begun liking through our files for any runaway slaves." "Not enough," Camelot shook his head. "Check through the list of all slaves sold out, verifying that these slaves are still with their masters." "Remember that the whore sounds and looks no older than 20. So to be sure, 22 should be our cut-off age." What he needed them to do was to go looking through all slaves around 12 to 22 who have passed through their hands and possibly the hands of others working for Lord Castello. All they need to confirm is that the slaves are still with their masters or either dead. As for the slaves that bitch let run loose after attacking their site, they will definitely find them all no matter how long it takes. Why? Because those slaves are their properties, just like land, cars and mansions are also properties. "But Master, if the Phantom Rebel attacked that particular site, I think she did so to steal out slave documents that recorded all slaves in the site. Perhaps her name is within the past records there."
So if the records are missing, it will make finding the escaped slaves harder. The records gave detailed descriptions of how the escaped slaves looked. Thankfully, people in this world had trained, strong memories. So those who weren't on shift during the attack could easily give out the descriptions of at least 200 slaves they were tasked to look after. Each guard group of 20, oversaw 200 imprisoned slaves every shift. The slaves were chained in their cells, and were so hungry, tired and injured that they didn't have enough strength to launch any attacks on these guards. Perhaps the first day, they might think of starting an uprising. But understand that the number of guards guarding every cell group was far less than the guards protecting the main guest floors, arenas and exit points. It's only when these prisoners enter the arena, do they understand how large the slave sites are. Heh. Lord Castello purposefully built the place to be so gigantic and confusing. So how can they escape successfully just like that? Anyway, the guards who weren't on shift, could recall what at least 50% of these escaped slaves looked like. With their help, they could find the rest and get more information on whether any of them saw this female Phantom before. Was there a point when she took off her mask? "Find them… find them all!" The men quickly went on one knee, "Yes, Master Camelot." Swish!
A slight wind whistled, and in the blink of an eye, they were gone, leaving Camelot to himself. Camelot slowly took to his massive chair, sitting with his legs apart. There before him was a beautifully crafted lumber table with fine grain details. On the table were unused parchment paper l, as well as a strange but immaculate part called Baymardian Calligraphy paper. This wasn't your typical A4 paper, but one that had the same feel as parchment paper. It could be rolled up and would last even longer compared to his parchment paper, when it came to water resistance. Camelot With his men on the job, he no longer concerned himself with the slut's matter. Still, he had to inform his backer, his Master, who was far, far away in the Capital. Dipping his ink brush, Camelot began to write.
If he sends word fast, it will reach his master just before Summer begins. The Female Phantom Rebel King…
That title caused quite a stir in Dafaren. Yes~
Tilda had already begun her plans to gather forces, unit and rebel against his majesty Alexander, her dear father. Who could see this coming? (~_~)
And with Tilda's emergence in Dafaren, also came a large bounty on her head… or rather, on her name and identity. Anyone who succeeds in revealing her true identity and her looks, will get boundless wealth from many guilds. At the same time, other stories emerged from the locals. Stories of her bravery spread out, with some people swearing to have seen her step in to deal with a rude noble that wanted to lay a finger on a little peasant girl. Amazing! (*0*)
For now, her stories were just rippled on a pond. But not long after, it might grow as turbulent as a waterfall's. Tilda had started well, and on her side, she sent out those who no longer wanted to stay, planning to move forward to the promised land with those who did. They ate heartily, rested well, got proper treatment, as well as new clothes and masks. Yes. She gave them confidence to hope for a better future. After a well rested night, many woke up around 10 am, sleeping for so long because of their bodies true exhaustion. Everyone ate again, washed their faces, and relieved themselves, before hopping into the darkened carriages once more. There, they stayed, except this time, although they couldn't see the outside world, the inside was lit up with strange lights they've never seen before. Ahh! Some jumped back in fear, but quickly adjusted after knowing it posed no harm to them. Their jaws dropped and their lips quivered, opening and closing their mouths but not saying a thing.
What... What sort of godly fireless torch was this?
(0∆0)