Chapter 382: The Old Coot’s Note
Alexander stepped out of the city hall and walked calmly along the cobbled streets toward the tavern. All around him, the surviving civilians trembled in terror behind windows and ruins; however, the shadow vampires had only cut down the combatants who offered armed resistance, leaving the ordinary citizens untouched.
Upon reaching the tavern building, Alexander noticed that the structure remained intact, exactly as he had left it months ago.
"Tch... I should have asked before slaughtering them all," said Alexander with a click of his tongue. "Anyway, with Stephen around, I doubt much could have happened."
Alexander pushed open the wooden door and walked inside. The interior looked in pristine order, free of any signs of looting or accumulated dust. He walked slowly over to the bar counter and spotted a folded sheet of paper resting right on top of the wooden surface. He reached down and unfolded it, reading the lines penned in a careless handwriting:
"If you are reading this and you aren’t that brat Alexander, you’d better run, because when I get back I will murder each and every single one of you.
If you are Alexander, we went back to Earth. I didn’t want to get dragged into your little battle; drawing too much attention isn’t my style. I brought your mayor friend with me, she almost got killed and was lucky to escape with her life."
"Just as I suspected," said Alexander, letting out a laugh as he crumpled the note. "With that crazy old man around, it would have been impossible for them to kill her."
Alexander walked behind the bar counter, pouring himself a glass of strong liquor and dropping in a couple of ice cubes. He took a slow sip, enjoying the burn in his throat as he let his thoughts wander.
"Should I head back to Earth and dodge all this damn trouble... or should I stay and look for Liora?" thought Alexander, watching the golden fluid swirl inside the glass.
Right then, a hesitant knock echoed against the wooden door. Alexander looked up and spotted the widow standing at the threshold alongside her two daughters, all three of them trembling in pure panic. Alexander walked over to them with a calm stride, a serene smile forming on his face.
"Good afternoon, what a coincidence finding you here," said Alexander. "How can I help you?"
"Great Chief Alexander... p-please forgive our interruption and offense, we..." faltered the widow, bowing her head.
Despite his polite demeanor, Alexander’s gaze retained a glacial coldness that sent chills down the three women’s spines. Seeing that the situation was entirely unfavorable to them and that fear was paralyzing her daughters, the widow summoned every ounce of courage she had left to speak on behalf of the residents.
"I come on behalf of the survivors," said the widow, looking up in desperation. "The situation in the city is terrible... We have nowhere to go, and all of us will be dead in a matter of a few days if we are left behind here."
"And what does any of that have to do with me?" said Alexander, staring straight at her without batting an eye.
The widow froze, feeling the words choke in her throat. She hadn’t expected such a cold response or such absolute indifference; she had assumed the man who cleared the city of the spider-kin would claim the territory out of sheer conqueror’s pride.
Her two daughters pressed even closer to their mother’s back, holding their breath before Alexander’s imposing figure, whose presence filled every inch of the doorway.
"W-We... have no one else to turn to," said the widow, taking an almost imperceptible step forward while subtly tugging down the neckline of her dress in a veiled gesture of desperation. "This city needs a true lord. Someone strong enough to protect us... and we know well how to reward anyone who chooses to carry us on his shoulders."
Alexander took a sip from his glass of liquor, running his gaze over the widow’s mature curves and the trembling legs of the young women.
"A lord requires loyalty," said Alexander in a slow, deliberate voice, taking a step toward them. "And the loyalty of a desperate town is usually as fragile as glass."
"I assure you there will be no disloyalty, Great Chief," the eldest daughter chimed in, summoning her courage as she looked up to lock eyes with Alexander’s crimson gaze. "If you take control of Plyaro... you won’t just have the city. The women here will know how to live up to your demands. We will do whatever it takes to secure your favor."
"’Whatever’ is a heavy word, girl," said Alexander, a smirk forming on his lips that grew increasingly darker and more sensual.
"And we hold it willingly," added the widow, closing the distance until the warmth of her breath brushed against Alexander’s chest. "The entire city can be yours, My Lord... from its resources to the last of its most intimate corners. We only ask for your guidance."
"Back then... we were blinded by ignorance, My Lord," replied the widow, her voice barely audible. "We didn’t understand the scale of your power or the danger that was coming."
"What do you mean?" asked Alexander, narrowing his eyes.
"When the Spider Queen’s troops arrived at the city, they placed it under total siege because Mayor Lyssandra flatly refused to surrender," the widow explained in desperation. "The guilds began pressing from the inside, and in the end, the inevitable erupted: an all-out battle between both factions. I don’t know the exact outcome because the main clash took place outside the walls, but Mayor Lyssandra came running back to this tavern before they could come after her. That was when one of her companions blew them all away with a single blow—so brutal that the troops never dared set foot inside this place again."
The widow paused, swallowing hard before continuing:
"However, that only triggered worse problems. Somehow, the Spider Queen’s armies found out what happened with the Adventurers’ Guild and unleashed all their fury directly onto the civilians to try and force Lyssandra out. But she never showed herself again. We just had to endure the agony; every single day, they have been slaughtering anyone they catch out on the streets. They have no mercy for anyone, and anyone who so much as looks at them wrong gets butchered on the spot."