Chapter 116: Feast

The soldiers were decimated in minutes, unable to fight against the sheer strength and prowess of Kyle. Kyle continuously moved through the battlefield like a shadow, picking up fallen weapons and using them at various angles, keeping track in his mind of how much ammo each position had.

[System Message]

Killed [Desham Garrison Soldier], +50 EXP

[System Message]

Killed [Desham Garrison Sergeant], +100 EXP

Kyle did not bother himself with questions of why they were so worthless, only aiming at killing everyone that came into the grain storage area to the best of his abilities. The groups of soldiers were merely the first wave, as other looters and thugs who saw the clear signs of anarchy began to flood in.

When Diya arrived in force a few hours later, the entire area was practically a bloodbath, with Kyle standing alone in the midst of piles of corpses, not even exhausted after such a long period of fighting. With the alternating of Penchant of Violence and Intimidation Aura, Kyle was effectively a one-man force against weaker enemies who were easily influenced. His sharpshooting skills from the Galactic Era allowed him to decimate the soldiers and looters with ease.

Kyle knew it wouldn’t be so easy with the actual military – this was just a town garrison whose barrack he had singlehandedly exploded. If they had access to their mortars and machine guns in full, it would have taken me maybe an hour longer.

Diya gulped instinctively; her public image as a dominant leader slightly shrunk as Kyle walked up to her. Her ardent followers that had gathered with her in the dozens all stared in awe, some trembling in fear while Kyle approached, a sort of aura afflicting them.

The followers that Diya had now garnered were made up of the slum dwellers who were paid in food, the only currency that now mattered in Desham. However, many of them were already prepared to flee the moment Kyle attacked, fully recognising his strength.

From another corner, a burly man approached the grain storage area as well, wielding a machine gun in his hand. Some of the followers gasped as well when they saw him. “It’s Makoa of Desham! The original hero!”

Many knew that his name was what sparked this entire chain of events in the first place – a good reputation among them for stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. Though some had suffered at the hands of the military because of him, they recognised that their anger should be taken out on the rich and the military, not Makoa himself.

“Why is he here?”

“Is he here to help us? Or to stop us?”

When they saw figures in the distance of what looked like to be two dozen soldiers, the outnumbered looters immediately fled into the distance, unwilling to fight. At the same time, the refugees prayed that this group of soldiers would not be the same as those who refused to let them out of the city.

“Finally, soldiers who can help us!”

“Soldier! Help us!”

The refugees called out, but their calls soon died out as it became even more apparent that it was the slum dwellers, geared up in the same equipment as the garrison soldiers, though in a slip-shod fashion.

“Under the authority of Queen Diya of Desham, all citizens are to report to the central square now! Refusal to attend is punishable by death.”

“Who the fuck is Queen Diya?”

“Why must we go?! Let us out of Desham now! Keeping us here is a war crime.” A man shouted, earning glares from the slum dwellers. One of the dwellers recognised the man, his face grinning as he walked up to grab the man by the neck, dragging him out of the refugee group while his wife and children screamed, only for them to be beaten down by the butts of the repeaters by the other dwellers.

“You, I KNOW YOU!! That stinking rich cunt that levelled my entire slum for your stupid restaurant building!” The dweller gripped the man’s head tightly, squeezing hard

“I, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” The wealthy man tried to deny it, but the other dwellers knew immediately that he was lying.

“Thrash all you want, but today karma comes to you! Round the rest of them up and drag them over”

The wealthy man was tied up immediately, while the rest of the refugees were coerced at gunpoint. They moved to the central square, where a wooden platform was mounted in the centre with two men already tied to a pole - Officer Gabriel and the elderly disabled council member, who was still shouting at the crowd.

“Foolish peasants! Ignorant of what we have done to protect you! Release me this instant!” The elderly council member struggled against the rope that restrained him but to no avail.

Instead of the crowd listening, they were instead happily having a feast, all of the slum dwellers able to eat for free what was left of the food storage area, along with mammoth hog meat. The dwellers laughed and scorned the two prisoners, throwing bones and stones at them.

Diya stood on the platform, waiting for the third man to be dragged up. The wealthy man screamed and thrashed as he fought against his captors, trying to break free. However, he was far too weak, immediately being tied to a pole as he continuously shifted his body, trying to get free.

Over the next half an hour, more and more refugees and slum dwellers poured in, with the followers of Queen Diya sorting out those upper-class citizens and capturing them on the spot, tossing them into a makeshift cage where they huddled with dozens of other wealthy businessmen and merchants, the indignant ones a rarity among the majority who were sobbing, knowing their time of execution would soon be near.

“Citizens of Desham! Heed my word!” Diya stood up proudly, holding a loudspeaker in her hand. “The battle for freedom has been long and harsh, but we have prevailed!”

“YEAAAAA!!” Her followers shouted in joy, as did the slum dwellers who were clearly enjoying the free flow of food, eating like kings.

“We have toiled for years under the boots of our oppressors, but no more! Today, I declare that it is not them who is in control of Desham. Not the rich. Not the haughty. Not the greedy! And not even me!”

“For it is you! The people who are in control of Desham! I am and was just like you, a slum dweller living in shame and in poverty. Who among you can say otherwise?”

“I will be your mouthpiece! And the executioner of what the people believe in!”

“First in line – Officer Gabriel, head of the local garrison who trampled on us, raided us, had his soldiers fire machine guns right into us. Kill or pardon?!”

“KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL!”

Diya grinned, pulling out an ornate axe taken from the council building, a heirloom from the previous nobles of Desham. With a single swooping cut, she lobbed off the head of Gabriel, his head spiralling into the crowd as they cheered.

“Let the feast begin!”