Northern Cortos - The Razor Plains
Leon wrenched his sword free, the man beneath his boot letting out one last guttural grunt of pain before he finally expired. For a moment The Inquisitor simply stood there, a frown lacing across his lips before he slowly looked up.
Surrounding him were hundreds upon thousands of razor wheat plants, a crop with a leaf that grew into an odd sharpness. Common enough in the North of Cortos, and usually harvested in the fall. The crop of this field would likely be ruined now. Soil soaked with blood, shit, and decomposing corpses often bread disease.
That had not been the intention here.
Another gurgling cry carried through the air as a Red Knight just a few dozen feet away ended the life of another heretic. Leon slowly turned, stepping through the flattened plants as he trudged back to where his troops were gathering.
The battle here had been a short one, though far more fierce than any he'd fought in before. Five hundred men had met a thousand mounted Red Knights. The heretics had fought bravely, though Leon would never admit as much out loud, yet had been ultimately trampled beneath the weight of a superior force. Now the blood soaked into this field, and the village in nearby rebellion would have to be burned.
Thus was the edict of the Radiant Church.
Some survivors had gotten away, and there was no doubt in Leon's mind that resistance would still be given. It was a pity. Had they simply accepted the Bright Lord's word, there would be no blood.
Leon wrenched his sword free, the man beneath his boot letting out one last guttural grunt of pain before he finally expired. For a moment The Inquisitor simply stood there, a frown lacing across his lips before he slowly looked up.
Surrounding him were hundreds upon thousands of razor wheat plants, a crop with a leaf that grew into an odd sharpness. Common enough in the North of Cortos, and usually harvested in the fall. The crop of this field would likely be ruined now. Soil soaked with blood, shit, and decomposing corpses often bread disease.
That had not been the intention here.
Another gurgling cry carried through the air as a Red Knight just a few dozen feet away ended the life of another heretic. Leon slowly turned, stepping through the flattened plants as he trudged back to where his troops were gathering.
The battle here had been a short one, though far more fierce than any he'd fought in before. Five hundred men had met a thousand mounted Red Knights. The heretics had fought bravely, though Leon would never admit as much out loud, yet had been ultimately trampled beneath the weight of a superior force. Now the blood soaked into this field, and the village in nearby rebellion would have to be burned.
Thus was the edict of the Radiant Church.
Some survivors had gotten away, and there was no doubt in Leon's mind that resistance would still be given. It was a pity. Had they simply accepted the Bright Lord's word, there would be no blood.