filth

As expected, the town was filled with hundreds of small rustic houses made with a combination of wood and stones. He also spotted at least two dozen people doing their activities around the street before them.

Some chatted with each other, some were shouting their merchandise, while others stared at Garmond and Chris with a mix of hateful and fearful gazes.

As they walked the streets, Garmond didn't fail to recognize how poor the quality of food materials that were being sold were.

The vegetable's lacked greenery. The meat looked terrible. The pungent stench and insects feeding on the gore, wasn't something Garmond was used to seeing.

"Why are the goods looking so terrible" Garmond finally forced himself to ask, it was a really troubling sight. Having people eat such things, wasn't healthy in the slightest.

"That's how it's meant to be. To strengthen our forces, the rich food supplies are handed to the military, that's the much they have to pay for their security" Chris replied with a stern face. He didn't seem bothered in the slightest by the sight.

'The much they have to pay for their security' Garmond scoffed inwardly at the thought.

What security?

They hardly took care of the people! Rather, they made them suffer. The picture of the Malian's back in the village didn't leave Garmond's memories.

The way they tortured the old villagers, exploiting on their inability to protect themselves.

Taking a slight detour, Chris led them through a narrow alleyway, and they burst out in a different street, one that looked way more furnished and better than the last.

"Let's get something to eat, before we head to the parlor" Chris said as they stopped in front of a small wooden structure with a stone base.

Right above the entrance of the structure was a wooden plaque with the words "The hunts tavern"

Hearing the hustle and bustle inside thw structure he immediately knew it was the place he was looking for.

Almost instantly, his belly reacted as the sweet smell of roasted meat streamed into his nostrils.

As they entered, they could see at least three dozen well-polished wooden tables spread around the tavern, with most of them filled with people eating, drinking or chatting.

He could tell from the classy robes and clean clothes that they all had on, that they were all nobles or at least people from aristocrat families.

Chris led Garmond to a single table placed by the side. As they sat, he observed his surrounding for a while.

Taking in the happy faces they all had on their faces as they ate to their fill. If Garmond wasn't aware of how much suffering the peasants were going through, he would have been deceived by the sight.

A few moments later, a bartender walked up to them with a trolly of food.

As she arrived, she placed the food gently on their table with a large smile on her face.

"Sir Chris, I see you came with someone today" the bartender asked.

"Yes, we were just heading somewhere, but we just decide to take a little detour." He replied calmly, putting his hands into his pockets to bring out some coins.

"Well, since you're a regular, this one's on the house" she said with a smile, as she turned back with her trolly, leaving the two alone.

The meal was quite good; a meat roll-like dish that was savory to the tongue and a brown drink that tasted like honey water.

After the meal, Chris gently picked up the napkins, cleaning his oil lips.

"That should hold, at least till we get back" Chris said, as he stood from the wooden chair, almost simultaneously Garmond stood as well.

Quietly they left the rowdy tavern, taking a different turn to the nobles parlor.

As they neared the expected location, Garmond caught the sight of the palace.

Compared to what he had seen in the past, he considered the noble parlor a bit underwhelming.

'At least under Azazel's rule, no one's crazy enough to have a whole castle to himself alone' He gave it a solid ten on design, while a meagre five on size.

But as they walked through the gates and entered into the place, he realized that it actually looked more like a fort than a palace. He could see at least one hundred guards stationed along the walls and gates.

"Halt!" One of the guards voice thundered as they saw the two figures, but with a deadly glare from Chris he quickly swallowed back his words.

"Idiot shut your mouth," a corpulent man that certainly weighed 150kg staggered out.

"Sir Chris, I was expecting you already. Sorry for the behavior of the guard, I'm sure he had no idea it was you. The master is out, but he informed me that you would be coming" the man spoke, his face creased with a cheerful smile.

"We've already arranged the carriage it's just around the side. Kent! Take them to the carriage" he ordered in a commanding tone, and quickly one of the guards came to lead them.

Over to the side of the wall, a horse was already prepared with a carriage. The carriage was filled with food stuffs, almost pouring out of it.

"Hang around, let me check if everything is complete" Chris walked over to check the carriage, while Garmond stood there.

"Get out you filth!" He gave a vicious glare before yelling.

Garmond's attention was quickly caught by the loud voice. The man who had received them, was throwing a disdainful look at a young boy.

The young boy was dressed in tattered clothes, dust filled. He looked sick, his eyes dull with bags.

"Please Sir, my mom is going to die. She hasn't eaten for days now" the young boy persisted, his teary eyes looking at the figure.

"I said get out!" He spat disdainfuly. A loud slap echoed as the boys frail figure was sent back by the impact.

Garmond frowned at this sight. Calmly he walked towards the old noble.

"What's going on here?" Garmond asked, as though unaware of what was happening.

"Young soldier, no need to worry yourself. I was just about to chase the little filth away" the man replied with a warm smile, as he looked towards Garmond.

However, the disgusted look on Garmond's face quickly told him something was wrong.

"What is it? Is anything wrong" he asked further with a furrowed brow, as he was confused.

Filth?

Garnind felt his body heating up; tensing from the burning rage that he had locked up inside for a while.

The audacity of the swine! How dare he!

Referring to someone else as filth, when he himself was far worse.

'I swear, I'm goung ti make this bastard pray he never met me' Garmond thought, a wicked glint in his eyes.