Building A Carnal Empire In The Fantasy World-Chapter 23: Regret II

Jace watched them go, thirty killers riding into the night with his words as their guide. In an hour, maybe less, they would reach the Blackwood Estate. They would surround the building. They would kick down doors and drag people into the courtyard.

And then the killing would start.

"Come on," the older guard said, taking Jace’s arm. "Time to get you settled in your cell."

They led him back into the outpost, down a stone corridor lit by flickering torches. The walls here were older, rougher, stained with things Jace didn’t want to think about.

At the end of the hall was a heavy wooden door bound with iron. The younger guard pulled out a ring of keys and found the right one. The lock turned with a grinding sound that echoed off the walls.

Inside was a small cell with stone walls and a floor covered in moldy straw. A bucket sat in one corner, and iron bars covered the single window.

The smell hit Jace like a physical blow—fear and despair and human waste, mixed together into something that made his eyes water.

"In you go," the older guard said, not unkindly.

Jace stepped inside, and the door slammed shut behind him. The key turned in the lock with a sound like breaking bones.

He was alone.

Jace slumped against the wall and slid down to sit in the dirty straw. Outside, he could hear the last of the horses disappearing into the distance. Soon, even that sound faded away.

The silence that followed was worse than any noise.

He tried to tell himself he’d done the right thing, ignoring his part in everything prior to this moment.

The Church represented order, law, righteousness. If there really was a slave auction at the estate, then it needed to be stopped. If people were being bought and sold like cattle, then the Church had a duty to intervene.

But deep down, he knew the truth. He hadn’t reported the auction because it was wrong. He’d reported it because he was jealous. Because he couldn’t stand watching someone else get the attention he thought he deserved.

And now people were going to die because of it.

Kael, who had never done anything to hurt him. Sara, who had always been kind. Lila, who had taught him card tricks when he was bored. Madam Vex, who had given him a job when he had nothing.

All of them riding toward their deaths, and they didn’t even know it.

Jace buried his face in his hands and tried not to cry. But the tears came anyway, hot and bitter, falling onto the moldy straw like rain.

Outside his cell window, the first light of dawn was beginning to creep across the sky. In a few hours, the Church knights would return.

Some would be carrying heads to mount on spikes. Others might be wounded, or dead themselves if the nobles put up a real fight.

And after they’d finished displaying their trophies, they would come for him.

The gallows were in the courtyard behind the outpost. Jace had seen them once, years ago, when he’d been curious about what lay behind the Church’s walls. Three wooden posts with ropes hanging like dead snakes. Dark stains on the platform below.

By tomorrow night, his blood would join those stains.

He pulled his knees up to his chest and rocked back and forth, trying to find some comfort in the motion. But there was no comfort to be found. Not here, not now, not with what he’d done.

All he could do was wait. Wait for the screaming to start at the Blackwood Estate.

Wait for the knights to return with their bloody prizes. Wait for his own appointment with the rope.

The dawn light grew stronger, painting the cell walls in shades of gold and red that reminded him of flames. Soon, the sacred fire would claim its due. The righteous would be rewarded, the wicked would be punished, and the world would be cleansed of sin.

At least, that’s what the Church taught. Jace wasn’t sure he believed it anymore.

But belief didn’t matter now. The wheels were already turning. The storm he’d unleashed was already racing toward its target.

All he could do was wait for the thunder.