What happens if Napoleon Bonaparte is resurrected in a fantasy world to save a whole continent from a Demon Lord?
A moment after his death, the former ruler of Europe receives a visit from the mysterious Faucheur, who proposes him to reborn in anoth...
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When a population rises up, usually those who want nothing to do with the matter take their things and run away without even looking back.
And if the rebels are those same individuals whom you treated like beasts of burden until the day before, the last thing you want is to risk falling into their hands just to stay and defend a piece of field or a shop.
So it didn't surprise me too much when we found most of the houses and farms abandoned during our march to Dundee.
Raiders and bandits had already set to work, but I took care to arrest anyone we caught looting houses or attacking fleeing caravans, promising everyone we met and who more often than not threw themselves at our feet begging for mercy that we did not intend to harm innocent people.
Word of this behavior, as well as that of who was leading the riot, seemed to spread quickly, and by the time we got within sight of the walls of Dundee many people had already stopped fleeing, preferring rather to wait and see how the situation would have evolved.
I knew Rutte was a man of judgment who would never risk entrusting the lives of his fellow citizens to the laughable walls of Dundee or to those half-soldiers of the city watch.
What I still wasn't entirely sure of was how Septimus and his men would react. I personally knew most of them, and with a few exceptions, I knew that they didn't want to be killed to defend an Empire in which none of them really believed after all; provided, of course, that we give them something better to believe in and fight for.
Initially ignoring Dundee, whose gates the mayor had already opened to demonstrate the absence of any inclination to resist just as I had foreseen, I ordered to proceed immediately towards the fort, which instead we found in full warfare and ready to defend itself.
Obviously, all those soldiers (starting with Septimus) were speechless when they saw me appear before them in the midst of all those monsters, but I knew that my presence or mere words would not be enough to convince them to give me their weapons.
A dramatic gesture was necessary. Luckily, I was a pro with dramatic gestures.
"Daemon, what are you doing?" exclaimed Scalia seeing me advance towards the fort with my arms folded behind my back and my gaze fixed in front of me. "They'll kill you!"
At once, I ordered my few archers to lay down their weapons, stopping halfway between the walls and my front line and looking long into the eyes of the soldiers on the ramparts.
I felt as if I was back at Laffrey in front of the fifth regiment lined up and ready to shoot me.
"You recognize me, right? We do not want to harm you! You are not our enemies!"
