Inside the city hall, Lord Prole strutted back and forth in front of his own troops, proudly declaring to Lady Alice, "Alright, I've given you all too much time to consider."
"Tell me, how many more are willing to surrender?"
One by one, Lady Alice's soldiers started to lay down their weapons.
As Lady Alice glared and pointed a finger at the soldier closest to her who had surrendered, he grimaced and pleaded, "Forgive me, I have a wife and children."
"If I surrender, survival isn't guaranteed, but if I don't, death certainly is."
Others began to surrender.
Lady Alice beseeched anxiously, "The Lord will turn you all into serfs..."
The soldiers who had dropped their weapons, particularly the city guards, kept silent, but the people from the Blacksmith Guild started to apologize to Lady Alice.
"I'm sorry, but we have families. We can't just go off and die."
"That's right, if there's no man in the house, how will our wives and children survive?"
