Ashen Dragon-Chapter 357 - 281 Escaping from Stratholme Fortress

Chapter 357: Chapter 281 Escaping from Stratholme Fortress

“Don’t kill me!”

“Huff, puff…”

Viscount Luton awoke from the nightmare, suddenly bolting upright and gasping for air.

He nervously touched his neck and only relaxed after confirming that it wasn’t severed by a guillotine.

But soon, Viscount Luton recalled that bloody memory, the head that could not find peace in death, and those fanatical faces.

Instantly, he retched once more.

...

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

“Public trial…”

“They’ve all gone mad, everyone’s gone mad…”

Viscount Luton kept shaking his head, muttering to himself.

He looked around wearily, seeing the hard stone floor beneath him, cold iron bars to his left, and walls stained with grime and blood.

He recognized this place.

This was the dungeon of Stratholme Fortress, used to detain those who broke the law or street vagrants.

No noble of the North had ever stayed here.

But compared to his elders, Luton considered himself fortunate, at least he had kept his head.

Thinking of this, he grew anxious once more.

Could it be… he too would be dragged to a so-called “public trial”?

Recalling that nightmarish scene again, Viscount Luton’s heart pounded rapidly.

He couldn’t stop gasping for breath, shaking his head non-stop.

“No…”

“I must leave this hellhole!”

“The North, the North has become a den of evil dragons! Everyone’s gone mad!”

Viscount Luton gritted his teeth and said.

However, footsteps approached. He immediately covered his mouth, pretending to be unconscious, and squinted his eyes to observe secretly.

In the flickering candlelight of the corridor, several spear-wielding Tiefling Guards patrolled by.

After confirming the guards had left, Viscount Luton cautiously opened his eyes and cursed under his breath.

“Damn it…”

“So many patrols, how on earth am I supposed to get out?”

Suddenly, the shadow in the corner seemed to move, and a low, unfamiliar voice emerged from it.

“Do you wish to escape?”

“Who are you?”

Luton grabbed at this lifeline, disregarding fear, worried only that the voice might vanish.

After all, this might be his only hope of escaping.

He had to survive!

“Quick, quick, take me out of here.”

Viscount Luton urged anxiously.

The shadow continued to sway, eventually coalescing into a man in a black robe, who courteously bowed to Luton.

“Viscount Luton Siege, I am a spy from the Holy Fadlan Federation. His Majesty Wilhelm believes that the Northern Nobility are the rightful rulers of Anzeta.”

“Well, of course.”

“But unfortunately, all the offspring of Duke Leo Boske have met unfortunate ends, and you seem to be his nephew.”

“Oh?”

Viscount Luton’s eyes lit up.

The black-robed man took Luton’s hand, silently pulling him into the Shadow Plane, whispering in his ear:

“His Majesty Wilhelm will appoint you as the nominal Grand Duke of the North, to spread Anzeta’s history in the South and draw attention to this evil dragon.”

“Good… good, I agree.”

…

“You may not know, but this Duke Luton embellished his experiences. His true identity… is a male prostitute.”

“How could a mere idle viscount suddenly become the so-called ‘Duke of the North’?”

“In fact, Duke Luton was whoring in the Thrace Kingdom. His escape to the South was actually him working as His Majesty Wilhelm’s male prostitute.”

—An anonymous historian in “Fianso Secret Historical Records”

…

Northwind Castle, Steel Dragonwing Palace.

Cassius lazily lounged on the throne, indifferently watching the magic image in the distance, exhaling a breath of sulfur-laden air.

“Did you see that?”

“This is what they call a struggle.”

“We are not of the same species as those humans, so it’s very likely they’d be swayed by the Northern Nobility, sparking fierce resistance for the so-called ‘common interests of the Scania People.'”

“And what we need to do is to divide them from within, separating these Northern Nobles from the commoners, conducting seemingly fair trials, and disguising the Kingdom as a just arbitrator, so they completely lose respect for the Northern Nobility.”

“In this way… our rule will grow even more stable.”

Ramp hurriedly knelt on one knee, adoration filling his expression: “Master, your wisdom in governance leaves me in awe. Only under your guidance can the grand blueprint be achieved.”

“Oh?”

Tiniya tilted her head, confusion in her eyes.

But she soon dismissed it all, excitedly moving forward, nuzzling the Red Dragon’s tail with her neck.

“Smack!”

“Yowl—”

With a pitiful cry, the White Dragon was flung ten meters away by that thick tail, rolling several times on the ground before coming to a stop.

But quickly, Tiniya bounced back up, energetically wagging her tail.

Cassius glanced at her.

It seemed that hoping for this daft White Dragon to become a competent lord was quite impossible.

Ramp, however, had evidently mastered this path, needing no further instruction—after all, apart from praising the grand strength of the Red Dragon, the Kingdom Daily lauded Lord Ramp’s foresight and dedication.

Now Ramp even began paying attention to his image, disguising the string of skulls on his neck as a gold necklace.

Cassius shook off the dust on his scales and casually asked:

“What do you have to report? Present it.”

“Yes, Master.”

Ramp excitedly took out a magic crystal and donned his large gold-framed glasses.

Instantly, a massive magic image spanning over ten meters materialized in the main hall, with several bright words at its top.

[Five-Year Development Plan for the North]

Beneath it was an extremely detailed map marking various cities, mineral veins, and estates, covering all the territories of the Northern Countries and the Ashen Kingdom.

In the annotated areas, future goals were elaborately listed, such as: “Build 15 food processing plants,” “Mine at least three hundred thousand silver coins annually,” “Construct a comprehensive railway network”…

“You’ve undoubtedly achieved a great victory, and to bask in your glory is the immense honor of all living beings in the Anzeta Great Wilderness.”

“While you slumbered, we were already preparing this plan, encompassing all territories of Anzeta, and we hope you will offer your critique and guidance.”

Ramp’s voice was exceedingly excited, the “gold necklace” on his thick neck trembling slightly.

“I am very pleased.”

Cassius slightly nodded, smiling.

Ten years had passed in the blink of an eye, and this ogre, a “prime worker,” hadn’t disappointed him, at least sparing him from trivial worries.