Berserk, Total War: Second Son of Nobles

Chapter 502: Memories of Early Spring (Part )

Outside the iron bars, the sunlight dispelled the darkness that shrouded the cell.

Fine beams of light fell obliquely on the haystack, dispelling the foul smell mixed with mold and blood.

Gus' eyelids trembled slightly under the caress of the light, like a wild beast waking up from hibernation. He slowly opened his eyes, and his dry pupils shrank into two thin lines under the strong light.

"Cough cough..."

He couldn't help coughing, and a dull pain came from his chest.

The wounds on my left shoulder and right leg twitched in pain with every breath, and it felt like millions of ants were crawling under the scabbed skin.

This was the seventh day of his imprisonment - or was it the eighth?

Time has lost its meaning here. The cell is filled with a damp and musty smell, and the moss on the wall glows a strange green under the light.

The only exit was the heavy iron door, the keyhole on the door flashing with the unique cold light of metal under the light.

Memories came flooding back.

This was many days after Guts accidentally killed his adoptive father Gambino. In a sudden attack, the mercenary group Guts belonged to was ambushed by regular troops led by a noble.

The sounds of shouting, screaming, and the collision of weapons were intertwined, and the smell of blood and iron filled the air. When he was captured, there were less than twenty survivors left around him.

While being escorted, an old prisoner with a goatee approached him and started talking to him.

"Are you scared, little ghost?"

The old prisoner grinned, revealing his jagged teeth.

Gus glanced at him unhappily:

"none of your business?"

"Haha, you have quite a bad temper."

The old prisoner was amused:

"But it's true. Being a mercenary at such a young age, there must be a lot of stories behind it."

Gus frowned:

"It's none of your business."

The old prisoner noticed his pale face and suddenly reached out to support him as he was shaking:

"Hey, you look terrible."

"Don't worry about it!"

Gus tried to break free, but due to excessive blood loss, his vision went dark and he fell forward.

"Why aren't you leaving? Hurry up and get up!"

The escorting soldier shouted angrily and raised his whip to hit him.

At this critical moment, the old prisoner stepped in front of Gus and took the whip for him:

"Stop it! He just fainted!"

The soldier drew back his whip:

"If you can't walk anymore, find a place to bury it. If you dare to stand in my way next time, I'll beat you too!"

Gus was helped up and looked at him puzzledly:

"Why help me?"

"It's nothing. We are all prisoners of war. We should help each other."

"How come you're a mercenary at such a young age?"

Gus was silent.

"I understand."

The old prisoner nodded.

"Every choice has its own reasons. But on the battlefield, it's either kill or be killed."

Then he said meaningfully:

"That's why I want to know when I can find my comrades who risked their lives for me."

The team then came to a fortress, which seemed to be not yet completed. Gus and his group of prisoners were probably going to be used for hard labor.

"If you go in now, you won't be able to get out later."

As they approached the fortress, the old prisoner suddenly lowered his voice.

"So if you want to escape, do it now."

Gus looked at him in disbelief:

"How did you..."

I saw the old prisoner holding two tiny iron needles in his hand.

"I've been a soldier for twenty years, so I do have some skills."

He fiddled with the keyhole of Gus's handcuffs for a few times, and with a "click", the handcuffs loosened.

"Run into the woods, and the cavalry won't be able to catch up with you."

"What about you?"

Gus asked.

"My fingers aren't long enough to unlock myself, so it's up to you to escape."

Gus wanted to say something else, but his body reacted before his mind did, and he rushed into the woods without looking back.

“Someone ran away!”

The sound of the arrows breaking through the air was like the horn of death. Guts felt a sharp pain in his shoulders and legs, followed by the guards' rain of fists.

In the last moment before he lost consciousness, he saw the old prisoner standing on the hill, nodded at him, and then disappeared over the hill.

My goodness, this old man used him as bait to attract the guards and ran away!

In a coma, Gus seemed to have returned to the time when he followed Gambino to fight a few years ago. When Gambino pulled him out of the pile of dead bodies, he said to him:

"If you want to survive on the battlefield, you can only rely on your brain and skills to find a solution."

"Don't pin your hopes on others. Humans are capable of doing anything despicable and shameless for their own ambitions and survival. The last thing that is lacking on the battlefield is such people."

"So remember, if you trust others easily, you will end up being killed after being completely exploited."

"Gambino, you are right."

Back in the present, Gus lies on the haystack, his wound throbbing with every breath.

He raised his hand and touched his burning forehead with his fingertips. The fever made his vision a little blurry, and the stone wall in front of him seemed to be distorted.

He felt his stomach aching with hunger and his teeth chattering with cold.

Suddenly, his eyes were attracted by a moving shadow in the corner.

It was a mouse, passing by him.

A fierce light like a wild beast flashed in Gus' eyes, and he pounced forward and bit the mouse's neck tightly as if grabbing a life-saving straw.

“Hmm—”

The taste of blood filled his mouth, and warm flesh was torn between his teeth.

Gus swallowed desperately, as if trying to suppress all the fear and hunger.

He didn't open his mouth until the mouse was completely eaten, breathing heavily.

Curled up in a ball wrapped in hay, Gus' body was still shaking uncontrollably.

The sun shone through the iron bars, casting streaks of light on the stone wall.

Gus squinted his eyes and saw a small unknown flower growing in the corner where the light shone.

The petals were delicate and stood out in the dim cell.

He smiled bitterly and thought that this flower was probably just like him, trapped in this cage without sunlight.

But soon, his eyes were attracted by another figure under the flowers.

It was a small figure, curled up beside the flowers, almost blending into the shadows.

Could it be that I am delirious due to the fever?

Just as Gus was about to see what it was, suddenly, the iron door creaked sharply, and a thunder exploded in the silent cell.

"Gala——"

The heavy iron door slowly opened, and the dazzling sunlight slanted in, illuminating the figure of the person coming.

Gus narrowed his eyes and saw a fat figure walking in.

The man was wearing a gorgeous brocade robe with gold flowers embroidered on the cuffs. His belly was protruding, making him look like a bloated goose.

"Is it him?" The Viscount looked Gus up and down, his eyes like a sharp knife, sweeping from his face to his feet, and then from his feet back to his face.

That scrutinizing look gave Gus goose bumps all over his body, as if he had been stripped naked and thrown into the cold wind.

"Pfft!" Gus couldn't help but spit in his face.

"presumptuous!"

The guards around the Viscount immediately shouted and lashed Gus with whips.

"Who allowed you to treat the Viscount like this?"

"You dirty little reptile!"

Another guard swung his mace, the tip of which gleamed coldly in the sun.

"and many more."

The Viscount raised his hand to stop him, a smile forming on his fat face:

"I like his spirit. A guy who can be so brave after being hit by so many arrows is exactly what I need."

As he walked forward, Gus smelled a sickening mixture of perfume and decay.

The Viscount took the medicine box from his attendant and squatted down to check Gus's wound.

"The arrow wound...here, here..."

His fingers gently poked Gus's wound, his movements as gentle as if he was stroking a lamb to be slaughtered.

"It's funny how you can survive after getting shot with so many arrows."

Gus' muscles tensed and he instinctively tried to dodge, but was held down by the guards.

"Don't move."

The Viscount said with a smile.

"I just want to make sure you give a good 'show' tomorrow."

"Performance?" Gus sneered.

"What performance requires medication first?"

The Viscount took out a portrait from his arms and waved it in front of Gus:

"Look at this cute little guy, my only son."

The boy in the portrait was about fifteen or sixteen years old, and as fat as his father.

"His Majesty the King has ordered that all the eldest sons of nobles must join the army."

The Viscount's voice suddenly turned cold.

"But my little baby is too weak...so, I need someone to help him become strong."

Guts finally understood, and a surge of anger rushed to his head:

"You want me to go and get myself killed?"

“What a precise expression!”

The Viscount clapped his hands and laughed.

"That's right, tomorrow you will have a duel with my little cutie."

He leaned close to Guts' ear and his warm breath fanned Guts' face.

"Of course, it's the kind that will definitely lead to death."

"He really is obsessed with his child."

Gus spat.

The Viscount did not take it as an offense, but laughed even more happily:

"Yes, I am a doting father. But..."

He suddenly said seriously.

"Don't worry too much. I'll let the doctor take good care of you."

He turned to the guards and ordered:

"Give him medicine every day, but don't give him too much food. We need a living, motivated opponent, not a dying waste."

"Yes, my lord!"

The guards responded in unison.

The iron door slammed shut with a loud bang, like a blow to Gus's heart.