Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!

Cassius laughed, a deep, wild sound that somehow soothed and provoked the crowd at once.

"Yes! Yes, I understand! I understand your rage. And I promise you...it will happen."

The pit fell silent, save for the muffled cries of the criminals. Cassius turned slowly, letting every eye follow him, before declaring.

"Do not think for a moment that they were brought here to be pitied, or to be fed, or to be clothed and sent away like strays...No. Every single one of them will die tonight. That is a fact!"

The criminals shook violently, muffled screams tearing from their throats. The crowd stilled, stunned by the sheer finality of his tone, until one man, his voice breaking, cried out.

"Then why wait?! Why wait till now?! My daughter was taken, why not kill them the moment you caught them?! Why drag it out like this?!"

Cassius turned his head, eyes glinting, and smiled beneath his scarf. "Why? Because this isn't merely justice...It's a birthday gift."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Julie and Aisha froze in shock, Skadi's tail bristling in disbelief.

Cassius's voice thundered. "Of course the Holy Guard could have killed them where they stood. It would have been easy. Quick. Forgettable. But a birthday...a birthday must be unforgettable."

"My young master wanted to give her something special. Something no one in this world would ever forget."

He spread his arms, pointing toward the pit.

"And so, every last one of them was gathered here! And tonight, before your very eyes, every criminal, every rapist, every bandit will burn..."

"...They will burn as if they had fallen into the lowest pits of hell itself. And their screams..."

His voice rose to a roar.

"...their screams will carry to the next town, and the town beyond that, so that all will know what justice looks like!"

The crowd erupted again, a deafening wave of approval and disbelief mingled into one, while the trio stared down in shock at Cassius's merciless declaration.

And then—

"Noah!" Cassius shouted, his voice cracking like a whip. "Is the oil I ordered prepared?"

Noah, standing at the edge of the pit, startled before snapping to attention. "Y-Yes, sir! It's ready!" He rolled a heavy barrel forward with trembling hands, pushing it until it tipped over the lip and tumbled down into the pit.

Crash! The barrel split open, dark yellow oil spilling across the ground, slick and pungent, seeping toward the broken criminals.

And he was not the only one. All around the rim, other soldiers heeded the call, rolling barrel after barrel that neared a hundred until the pit was ringed entirely, and the oil flowed like rivers, soaking into the dirt, pooling beneath the men who cried and writhed in terror.

At first, confusion. Then the stench hit them.

The sharp, acrid scent of fuel.

Realization dawned, and horror followed.

The criminals thrashed desperately, dragging themselves through the muck with shattered limbs, some screaming through their gags, others choking on sobs of dread. The oil clung to their skin, soaked their clothes, painted them in the color of their impending death.

And the villagers, eyes wide, mouths dry, realized that Cassius had meant every single word.

He really intended to set the pit ablaze.

"Now you all see..." He declared, his tone rising and falling with theatrical cadence. "With how much oil has been poured, with how every inch of this pit, every rag on their bodies, every patch of dirt beneath their hands is drenched and slick, one single blaze, one single ember, is enough to turn this place into hell itself."

He raised his hand dramatically, fingers spread as though he already held that ember between them.

"That is all it would take to set everything aflame...One spark, and they will all burn. Burn until nothing remains but charred ash and memory."

The crowd shuddered, not with fear, but with anticipation. Men clenched their fists until their palms stung, women trembled not with terror but with rage—and children, those who had already seen too much horror in their lives, pressed against their mothers' skirts, their small eyes wide with a hunger for justice they should never have needed to know.

"And so the question comes..." Cassius looked upon them, smiling faintly. "Who shall be the one to strike the match? Who will be the hand of justice tonight? Who will deliver the first flame that begins their descent into hell?"

A ripple went through the crowd at his words. Many shifted forward unconsciously, hearts pounding, though most quickly realized the weight of what he asked.

The fire would kill hundreds. To bear that sin was no small thing.

Cassius tilted his head slightly toward Aisha.

"At first.. " He said, his tone softening, almost fond. "...my young master thought it fitting. That the lucky girl for whom this entire gift was prepared should light the first fire. That she should be the one to start this great blaze."

Gasps swept through the onlookers and Aisha's own eyes widened, her face paling as Cassius's words sank in. She had been listening with rapt attention, caught between horror and fascination, her heart pounding as she thought of the crimes committed by the men in the pit.

She hated them. She loathed them. She had killed before when forced to, when necessary. And yet…

The sight of hundreds of men, all soaked in oil, trembling and begging with their eyes even through their gags, it was too much. Her throat tightened.

The thought of striking that fire, of watching it spread and consume so many lives all at once, made her body twist. She knew she would never sleep without hearing their screams.

Julie and Skadi noticed instantly. Julie's hand twitched, ready to intervene, while Skadi's tails swaying in panic, her usual cocky confidence edged with alarm. Both opened their mouths to speak, to stop this madness, when—

Cassius cut them off himself. He lowered his hand, his voice turning solemn.

"But no...no. That cannot be."

He turned back toward the crowd, but his words were meant for Aisha.

"For though she has the heart to wish for every orphan to live with their family, though she has the will to protect others from tragedy, she is not one who should carry the weight of all those deaths upon her shoulders...Not tonight. Not ever."

Relief swept across Julie's face like a wave, and even Skadi's stern expression eased as she let out a low exhale. Aisha blinked rapidly, her cheeks flooding with color as her heart thudded.

He had spared her, not out of pity, but out of understanding. Her lips parted slightly, and though no words came, the gratitude in her eyes was plain.

But before the moment could settle, a cry broke out from the crowd. A woman's voice, ragged with grief.

"Then who?!" She screamed, tears streaming down her face as she clutched a locket to her chest. "Who will burn them, if not her? Who will end this nightmare? Tell me!"

Cassius turned his head slowly, eyes finding her in the sea of faces. For a moment, silence stretched. Then, he raised his hand, his long finger pointing directly at her.

"You..." He said simply.

The woman froze, her mouth falling open, confusion etched into her grief-stricken face.

But Cassius did not stop there. His hand shifted, dragging across the crowd as his voice grew louder.

"Not only you. But you, as well. And you. And you, and you, and you!"

His finger jabbed toward countless others, men, women, even a boy barely in his teens.

"Every single one of you who has suffered...Every single one of you whose blood and tears have stained this soil because of the men beneath us...You shall be the fire that burns them."

Gasps rippled outward, the crowd caught off guard. His words swept through them like a storm, breaking them apart.

"I do not force any of you." Cassius continued firmly. "No one will be made to carry this burden if they do not wish it. If you do not wish to strike the flame, step back from the edge. Remain as witnesses only. That is your right."

He paused, scanning the sea of faces.

"But...if you desire retribution. If you demand justice with your own hands...if you want to answer for your sons, your daughters, your wives, your husbands, your parents stolen away by these creatures...then step forward."

For a long, breathless moment, nothing moved.

Then, slowly, the crowd shifted. Many, most, stepped back, trembling, unwilling to bear such a weight. But others remained rooted, their feet heavy as stone.

And then, some stepped forward.

A mother, clutching the charred remains of a doll.

A man whose face was lined with scars, tears rolling freely as he clenched his fists.

An old woman, stooped and frail, yet with an iron gaze.

A boy, barely more than fourteen, standing tall despite his trembling hands.

These were the broken. The wounded. The survivors. The victims. And their eyes burned brighter than the torches that were soon pressed into their hands.

Cassius exhaled slowly, a rare sigh, as though even he felt the gravity of what was unfolding. Then he raised his hand once more.

"Noah! Give them the torches."

"Yes, sir!" Noah barked, and immediately, soldiers stationed around the rim moved in unison.

Torch after torch was passed into waiting hands until the entire pit was ringed with fire. The light flickered across their faces, some wet with tears, some twisted with rage, some calm with grim resolve.

The criminals below wailed, muffled and pitiful, as the orange glow danced above them like the promise of damnation.

Now dozens of victims stood above the pit, torches raised, trembling not from fear but from restraint.

They wanted nothing more than to hurl them down, to watch the flames consume the monsters who had destroyed their lives. Their hands shook, knuckles white around the wood.

Finally, one man broke. His voice cracked as he shouted down into the pit.

"Please, sir! Please let me throw it! Let me burn them with my own hands!" His body trembled, tears streaming down his face. "They took my son! My boy! Please, sir, step aside, let me, let me do it!"

"Yes, sir! Please move out of the way, so we can set all these scum ablaze!"

"Yes, please move out of the way!"

Voices rose in agreement, a storm of pleading and furious cries, every victim demanding their chance, their right.

But Cassius only smiled faintly, tilting his head as though amused.

"You need not worry for me. Forget I am here. Pretend I am but a shadow in your way. Throw your torches as you will. Do not hesitate for my sake. For tonight is not about me. Tonight is about you."

Although everyone was confused about what he said, no one decided to say anything against it as with how confident he was, it only made sense that he had his own ways of surviving the flames.

But before the first torch could be cast, Cassius raised his voice again, sharp and commanding.

"Wait."

Silence fell once more. All eyes snapped to him.

"Remember..." Cassius said, his voice carrying a strange reverence now, as if leading a sacred rite. "This is not merely vengeance. This is a celebration. This is a birthday gift. This is life being honored as death is purged. And so, before you cast your flames…"

His crimson gaze swept over them all, gleaming with fervor.

"…you will sing the song of celebration of life, 'The Lull of The First Breath.' And only then, only after the final note fades, shall the pit be set alight."