Return of the General's Daughter
Chapter 177: The Purge: The Mayor’s Dilemma 2

Chapter 177: The Purge: The Mayor’s Dilemma 2

The Mayor sat frozen, the weight of the news crashing over him like a tidal wave. His mouth hung open, breath shallow as he gripped the dining table, knuckles white. Hook and Ruffus, equally stunned, stared at each other, eyes wide, as if the world had tilted beneath them.

Inside Mayor Aderte’s mind, a storm raged. If the magistrate had been captured and was now facing trial, then how long before his own sins came to light? The secrets they had shared, the crimes they had committed hand-in-hand—extortion, abuse, betrayal of the very people he was sworn to serve—it was all unraveling.

If the people were called as witnesses, wouldn’t the townsfolk speak against him for the many atrocities he committed against them? They did not say anything before because he used terror to reign, but now with someone from the capital...

He swallowed hard. He had always prided himself on being clever, shrewd. How else could he have held onto his position for so many years amid whispers and unrest? But now, the walls were closing in.

He acted swiftly.

"Pack at once," he told his three eldest daughters, voice low but urgent. He turned to the nannies. "Take the boys and their mothers. Whatever you can carry, essentials only, and your valuables at hand. You’re going to Zura, your aunt is there."

He didn’t wait for their questions.

Turning to his loyal captain of the guard, he said, "Marcial, I’m entrusting them to you. Take half a dozen men. No one must follow you. Use the hidden path by the orchard, the one that leads past the cemetery. You know where the boats are kept—use them to cross the river Praya. I’ll join you in two or three days."

Marcial nodded and exited the dining room to make arrangements for the children’s escape.

The mayor’s voice sharpened as he barked another order to his aide. "Seal the gates and tell the guards not to let anyone enter, no matter who they are. And bring the male slaves—they’ll bolster the guard."

His twenty-year-old eldest son stepped forward, pale-faced and unsure. "Father... what about us? Are we not going?"

Mayor Aderte turned a cold eye on the man. "We will follow. But first, gather every valuable in the house. Jewelry, coins, documents—everything. Now move."

The eldest son heaved a sigh of relief. He left hurriedly to do what his father had instructed.

Only then did the mayor remember he had guests.

His eyes slid back to Hook and Ruffus. "If I were you," he said, voice low and hard, "I’d run. Now! Do you think you won’t be caught up in this? Don’t be fools. Your names are in more than a few places."

The two men stood abruptly, masks of calm barely hiding their panic.

"We appreciate your hospitality," Hook said, already edging toward the door. "And your advice."

They left with hurried steps, saying nothing more—except for one final glance at the balcony. Amid the swirling uncertainty, Hook made a silent note of gratitude for the tiger pelt lying there like a forgotten treasure. As they slipped out, he took it back. With chaos descending on the mayor’s mansion, who would notice that he took back the tiger pelt?

Once outside, Ruffus turned to Hook, worry lining his face. "Do you think we should leave too? Maybe head to Zura while we still can?"

Hook’s reply came with a confident sneer. "Why should we? We have invested too much in this place. I had built my reputation in the last two years; no one would suspect us of being affiliated with human trafficking. Besides, I have a village to lead."

"Sigh, such a beautiful mansion, almost at my grasp." He murmured as his gaze swept across the sprawling grounds and the landscaped gardens.

"What a pity," he murmured. "The mayor’s eldest daughter... she’s stunning. I should’ve had her when I had the chance."

Ruffus rolled his eyes in disgust. "Tsk. Even now, you’re thinking with that part of you?"

As they walked away to enter their carriage, Hook glanced back once more. The mansion gleamed even brighter in the early afternoon light as if unaware that ruin crept toward it from all sides.

Ruffus’s gut twisted. He wasn’t so sure Hook was right. Perhaps he would consider the Mayor’s advice and escape to Zura while he can.

...

Just as the sun was still high in the sky, casting short, casting long shadows over the orchard and cemetery path, four plain-looking carriages creaked quietly out of the narrow rear gate of the mayor’s mansion. The wheels turned softly over the dirt road, the departure almost ghost-like in its silence.

But their stealth was short-lived.

From behind the trees, a dozen Northem soldiers emerged in perfect formation, blocking the pathway. Horses snorted. Steel boots stamped into the earth. Not a word was spoken—only the sudden, oppressive stillness of a trap sprung shut.

The guards flanking the carriages barely had time to react. Hands flew to hilts, but none reached their swords. In the blink of an eye, gleaming blades were pressed to their throats—sharp, unwavering, merciless.

A soldier stepped forward and yanked open the door of the first carriage.

A chorus of terrified screams rang out, slicing through the air like shattered glass. Inside, trembling women clutched children to their chests, eyes wide with panic. The second and third carriages revealed the same: frightened mothers and nannies, tear-streaked faces, tiny fists clinging to skirts.

’Damn! Just how many women the mayor had in his harem?’ The soldier cursed. He counted three pairs of mother and child.

"Captain," a soldier called out after inspecting the cargo. "Only women and children are inside. The last carriage carries four chests— mostly clothes and a few jewelry, coins, some silks."

"Let them go," he said. "By order of His Highness, we are not to detain the women or the children. But confiscate the valuables."

One of the younger soldiers glanced at the guards still frozen in place. "Captain, what about these men?"

The captain turned back, eyes narrowing. He studied the guards, noting the desperation they tried to hide beneath stoic faces. For a moment, his hand hovered over his sword. He didn’t trust them. Not one bit.

But then his gaze drifted to the carriages again—the children, some too young to understand the danger, others already sobbing in fear. Without their protectors, they wouldn’t make it far. Bandits roamed the outer roads, and the journey to Zura was long and perilous.

"Never mind. There were only a few of them. Just let them go." He waved his hand and dismissed the soldiers.

Marcial didn’t flinch, but inside, his lungs ached with the breath he hadn’t dared to take. Relief bloomed in his chest, tempered only by confusion. He had expected to be cut down—or worse, to see the children slaughtered as a warning.

But he was surprised the Northem captain had shown mercy. If it was his master, there would be no mercy.

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