"Kill one man, and you are a murderer."
"Kill millions of men, and you are a conqueror."
"Kill them all, and you are a god."
Jean Rostand
….
Demarcus Flintcut jumped down from the longboat as it beached his leather boots, sinking slightly into the wet sand, which had now turned brown and muddy as the sea passed over it and the tide crashed in and out. He smelled the salt that was carried with the breeze and looked at the now mostly empty village, having seen many of the villagers scurry about and run like ants away into the distance, afraid to be crushed under his boot.
He was a player in charge of this raiding party, spending the last 6 months in the game working hard to rise in the ranks of one of the leading Jarls in the service to the Grand Duke of Ubernoss. While his band of raiders could not be said to be small, it was not large either; it was big enough to be able to intimidate the local powers as they pillaged and plundered the countryside, never staying too long as they did not have the manpower to fight against the nobles who would quickly raise their armies to relieve their lands of their presence.
This is because the noble's wealth and power relied on the peasants and what they produced. It was they who tilled the fields and reaped the wheat, providing the food for the noble, his household, and his army.
And it was they who worked and built the wealth that the noble taxed, and in exchange, it was the noble's duty to look after his subjects and protect them from hostile forces and invasions.
Well, that is the theory anyway; unfortunately, as with all systems in the world, they rarely work as intended or are implemented in their ideal sense.
As a result, unless he came to an arrangement with a particularly powerful noble to help compensate them for their losses, then he would have to run the moment they dispatch their armies to crush him and the little raiding party.
He and his men rushed into the village and began looting, searching through the houses for whatever valuables they could find that had been left behind by the panicked villagers, but before doing so, he turned to one of his lieutenants and ordered him.
"Sigert, Take some men and chase the villagers. Many should be with women and children, so we have a good chance to catch up to them. Bring back as many as you can. They are the most valuable out of the lost, after all."
Demarcus said coldly to his second in command, a man with whom he had built a strong relationship over the last six months in the game and kept his identity as a player a secret thanks to his background, which, while not noble, explained his ability to read, write, and have a basic education.
"Understood, sir! Lads, Let's go get us some captives to enjoy!"
Sigert shouted with a cruel smile at 50 of the raiders who quickly started running in the direction of the fleeing villagers who, even with a 5 to 10-minute head start, would never be as fast as the raiders even weighed down by their equipment due to the need to guide women and children to safety. These elites were given to Demarcus to use on his excursions on the seas. Of course, the lord would get a 20% cut of all the loot, most of which would be used to pay these veteran soldiers, but the other 80% would go to Sigert himself and the other people who volunteered and took the significant risk to go on this expedition.
While these 50 raiders kept their cool, the others, who had primarily come to line their own pockets, started rushing from house to house, throwing what few inhabitants left into the street. These were mainly elderly men and women, as the more valuable younger people and children began leaving the moment they saw the approaching ships and headed to the safety of the nearest walled settlement to protect themselves.
In the medieval world, most people started families young, and by 20-25, they already had children running around. People who live past 60 and into their 80s are rare, as even amongst the rich nobles and monarchs, those with access to the best food and healthcare available, the number of people who actually live past 80 did not exceed a hundred. So many of the parents of children, even those who were 13-14, had not passed 40 years old.
For the people who lived on the frozen islands of the East, raiding was the fastest way to gain wealth, but it also meant ending up in an early grave.
You either come back adorned with the gold and jewels of your conquests or in a ditch in a foreign country, just another one of the countless lives that are lost every day.
These veteran soldiers had come in handy for Sigert, helping him suppress the armies of local powers like the barons who could pull a few hundred men together and even more if he conscripted his peasants and subjects.
This is because unless they belong to a noble house with a martial history and background, the soldiers of these noble houses were no match to the raiders who regularly skirmished and fought.
Whether it was selling the women and children into slavery or turning them into loyal soldiers or citizens, the women and children were far more valuable than the men for one reason or another.
The children could be trained to become loyal soldiers or subjects, being very susceptible to outside influences at such a young age; after all, it is for good reason that when small children immigrate to a foreign country, they are the first to adapt to the country's customs and language, usually mastering the language of their new home far better than their parents ever will.
While the women were well…. There was no need to go into what the women would likely become and the dark fate which makes them valuable.
As disgusting as it would seem to modern men in medieval times, such a fate happens far too often when two countries go to war or when pirates and raiders roam the world seeking riches.
People and villagers being captured for one reason or another was not uncommon in this brutal medieval world as some historians see it as a travesty that traditional gender roles were so enforced back then, but if people fully understood what would be expected of them, they may not be so eager to complain about a few of the misogynistic protections that women unknowingly enjoyed in the past something that had been slowly broken down in the modern world for a more progressive society.
Would you want to go into the woods and fight wild animals with nothing but a spear, a bow, and an arrow?
Would you rather stay in the protection of a home or risk being kidnapped by bandits or raiders or killed in the forest?
Would you want to be sent to war by the lord, given only the most basic equipment, against mail-clad professional knights, their horses' hooves making the ground tremble as they charge towards you?
If not, then you need to reevaluate your position in a medieval world, as the world is far crueller than many can possibly imagine.
It was an age when human rights were non-existent, and people's lives were worth less than a bottle of wine aged for 100 years.
Believe it or not, with increased rights comes increased responsibilities, something many privileged people in first-world countries forget.
Many forget that democracy can only work if each citizen has a good understanding of political and economic affairs to make the right decisions, whether that is through a more Athenian system of direct democracy or through picking the right representatives. Unless the citizens are sufficiently educated, the country can only be mismanaged, or charismatic demagogues will take power.
And in a world where the law of the jungle reigns supreme, the only way to protect those whom you care about is to have the power and respect to do so.
It was even typical to sack towns in this era, plundering them of their wealth and allowing the occupying army to commit whatever atrocities they wished upon the populace for a few days to reward them for taking a town or city.
For the records of the mass sexual assault and robbing of civilians when a town fell did not come from nowhere.
This is why people saw lords or kings who refused to do so as benevolent lords, though few realise that a reputation like that can be used to persuade people to surrender without a fight.
The Mongols used tactics like this to forge their great empire that inspired fear in the world, razing cities and killing all their citizens if they resisted but just asking for tribute if they did not.
It was not a hard decision for any town leadership to make, and so many surrendered and paid tribute to them to prevent the destruction of their homes and lives.
This was a harsh world, one where might makes right and the victors write history, making themselves out to be just and righteous even if they were not, as no king or emperor is stupid enough to destroy their own legitimacy and right to rule in the minds of their subjects.
But there was another problem, which was the players themselves. Many saw the game as nothing but a way to earn money and, like all games and virtual worlds, commit vile and repulsive acts that they would not do in the real one, such as selling people into slavery.
Who had not played an open-world RPG and killed an entire town for fun or stolen or done many other crimes they would not usually do in the real world, letting out their darker side and thoughts so they do not commit atrocities in real life.
Some even modded games to add 18+ content, turning what was once a violent game into something that was altogether very different and, in some cases, disturbing as people changed things to live out their darkest fantasies.
For this reason, except for oddballs like Regnald, quite a few players had no qualms about engaging in morally depraved acts to get the money they so desired. Unfortunately, this was usually at the expense of the NPCs and native population, as only a few realised that, in the long term, treating people with benevolence brings far more benefits than one could imagine.
Even turning it into a base of power.
Liu Bei is a perfect example of this, as he used his status as a member of the Han Dynasty in China, as well as his excellent reputation and popularity amongst his people, to attract talented people to his cause and help him start from scratch when he had lost his land and foundation repeatedly until he managed to establish Shu-Han in the three kingdoms period of China.
Whether he was actually a member of the Imperial family of the Han Dynasty is irrelevant. He was known not to come from any sort of noble background, only claiming to be because he shared the same surname as that of the Han Dynasty's imperial family until Emperor Xian granted him the title of Imperial Uncle, legitimising his claim and greatly enhancing position and reputation.
Unfortunately, like the leaders of many companies around the world, many people can only see what is in front of them and not the dark future that potentially finds itself at the end of the path that they have chosen and fall into tyranny plundering their territories for wealth to use to spend on large armies or turning into real life money to enjoy the decedent lifestyle that the upper echelons of society do.
Imitating those CEOs, businessmen and inheritors of great wealth, influence and power that they despise so much in real life.
As once people gain wealth and power, their political views and views on the world change in unexpected ways, especially for those who earned their wealth and power themselves rather than having it passed down from their fathers or grandfathers.
Exploiting and trampling over the lives of others to go up in the world just like every other person of power did.
After sending his men out to catch the villagers, Demarcus himself began to sift through the houses, finding a few coin pouches. However, few had any gold in them, as, unlike the wealthy merchants and nobles who lived behind tall, strong walls and commonly dealt in large amounts of currency, the commoners and villagers didn't. So, the most that anyone found was a few silvers or a few hundred coppers, a paltry sum that could not even buy one weapon from a blacksmith.
However, there was one thing that was quite valuable, and that was the salt that the villagers produced and sold. If taken to the right places, it could be sold for a hefty profit as it is a good that does not expire and can be transported around without you having to either spend a lot of magic keeping it frozen or risk it going off.
Already, some of the raiders were grabbing boxes, crates, and whatever they could find to store the salt and taking it back to their longboats as they never knew when they would need to depart quickly.
Demarcus was looking through what looked to be a normal fisherman's house, throwing open chests and other household containers as chairs and clutter littered the floor, which got messier as the house was searched more as the player was surprised to find something in a chest that was unbecoming of an average villager.
He picked up a helmet and set of long chainmail armour; however, unlike the usual mass-produced mail, it had steel plates that covered both arms. Alongside it were a set of mail boots and what looked like a helmet with a long noseguard. It is evident that before leaving, the owner of this set of armour did not have the time to don his complete set of armour, which looked like it belonged on a knight more than what the man's likely occupation was, which was a mercenary or soldier.
But he could not be a knight as a knight would not live in such a house or fish for a living.
However, there was no sign of weapons, meaning that at least one of these villagers was armed and an experienced fighter.
'Seems this raid will yield more than I expected.'
Demarcus thought for this set of armour was worth at least 30-50 gold on its own, let alone the other cargo jewellery and other valuables they could find in the village.
….
"Come on dear, I know it's tough, but we just need to go a bit faster. How about this? Daddy will get you a nice roast dinner when we get to the town, okay."
Por Severn coaxed his daughter, who was struggling and holding her older brother's hand. Her face lit up when she heard her father's promise as they made their way towards the nearest walled town for refuge against the raiders, who he knew would soon come after them.
They were in the middle of a crowd of their fellow villagers who were all walking as fast as they could towards the city, trying to save their energy for when the raiders got near before running, each trying to get to the front, hoping that if they were caught up to that the people at the back would delay their pursuers enough for themselves to escape with their loved ones.
Por kept his sword, his companion for many years, loosely gripped in one hand, giving him a sense of comfort as his other held his wife's hand. The ex-mercenary was determined for his innocent little family of 4 who were scared of having to abruptly leave their home because of invaders from the sea.
He could only prey on the other villages around them to keep them safe, for he was not in any position to give them a warning with his family in danger.
Even if some may call it cowardice or selfishness, his days of being a hero were long behind them and as with 99% of the population, if they had to choose between ensuring their family's safety and warning another village, he would choose his family's safety without hesitation.
After all, it was the lord's job to defend them and defeat the raiders.
It had been nearly 15 minutes since he left the village. By now, the baron's men should have long told the baron about their predicament, who should send help as he had at least 50 knights under his command as well as 200 men at arms who should be able to deal with the raiders who would have no way to deal with the lord's cavalry as their lord Baron Rushe was one of the more powerful barons under Vice Count Dahle who in turn was sworn to some count or duke.
Honestly, it did not matter to Por who his liege lord was or the feudal chain of command, but what did matter was that his lord could take on the raiders even if he would lose a lot of men, and if he won, their arms could be recollected and new men trained within a few months.
Por heard a commotion behind him as villagers cried out for help and mercy from the raiders.
"Please, sir, have mercy! Please don't take my wife! Take me instead!"
One man pleaded. Por did not need to turn or look to know what was happening.
The raiders had caught up to them and began taking the people as their spoils of war.
In his years as a mercenary, he had seen such things many times; though he never personally took part in such debaucheries himself, he knew that such instances were all too common.
"Shut up unless you want to die! You don't want to end up like him, do you!"
One of the raiders snarled, pointing at the corpse of another man killed only minutes ago as he and two others began tying up the man, his wife and his children to prepare them to be taken back to their boats, where they were likely bound for the slave market in a faraway county as cheap labour was precious in an agricultural economy.
Others were less meek, for not everyone would submit themselves to the whims of their captors.
For who had not heard of the brutality that slaves had to endure, whether it was in their own kingdom or elsewhere in the world, they were not seen as people or citizens but as things to be traded.
For many, death was preferable to such a fate.
"Get your hand off my daughter, you bastard."
One person roared, trying to wrestle with a raider who only brought his steel axe down on the head of the man. The steel indented itself into the top of his head, cracking the poor man's skull as blood stained the blade and flowed down his head to the ground. A glare of pained hatred remained plastered on his face as he loosely slumped to the ground dead.
"Papa! Papa, wake up, please!"
A young girl no more than ten years old cried over the body of her dead father, screaming for him to come back to life. Tears flowed like a river down her face as she was ruthlessly hauled up and over the shoulders of one of the raiders and taken away, hitting on the mail and leather armour of her kidnapper uselessly, who just sighed in annoyance and began to take her back to their boats and an unknown destination.
Por carried on with his family, ignoring the cries of help that came from behind him as he tightly clenched his drawn sword, suppressing his anger and instinct to help, knowing that trying to interfere now would only be throwing his life away for nothing and then who else would look after his family's well-being.
Suddenly, his young daughter Falicia lost her footing and fell to the ground. Por and his son quickly picked her up, but by then, they were at the back of the villagers, and two mail-clad grinning raiders approached, ready to add to their ill-gotten gains. They looked at Por's sword with an excited and playful expression, wondering what the 40-year-old man could possibly do with it.
It was time for the raiders to learn why Por was called 'The Crimson Dawn' when he travelled around the world selling his sword to one man or another.