The Scum Emperor's Redemption System

Fialova crouched behind the gnarled trees, her breath shallow and cold. She had found them—finally.

The stench of smoke and sweat filled the air, mingling with the low growls of men and the occasional, heart-wrenching cry of a child.

The tribe's camp sprawled ahead, its crude tents scattered like a disease over the hollowed earth. She could see them all, the captors and the enslaved, clear as day.

A sharp crack split the air, followed by a scream.

"Move your ass!" bellowed one of the Peliotus men, his whip snapping over the back of a gaunt Valtirium man.

The man stumbled but caught himself, trembling as he hauled a bundle twice his size.

"You there! What are you stopping for?" another Peliotus snarled, raising his whip to strike.

Fialova's stomach churned as she spotted children among the enslaved. Tiny, frail hands scrubbed the mud-caked ground, their eyes hollow.

Others staggered under burdens too heavy for grown men. They weren't just prisoners; they were broken.

And it was all happening right there, mere paces in front of her. She pressed herself deeper into the shadows, shoving Argider into the bushes.

The conquered town lay behind them, its smoldering ruins nestled among the hills.

A sudden burst of laughter made her heart lurch. Peliotus warriors lounged near a campfire, their voices thick with alcohol and cruelty.

"Hah! These Valtirium dogs are getting what they deserve!" one sneered, raising his tankard in a mock toast.

"You're pushing that one too hard," another said, slurring slightly. "He'll drop dead before sunset. Let him rest, maybe."

"Don't preach, you hypocrite," spat a third. "You forced yourself on that woman last night."

"And you didn't enjoy watching?" The group erupted in laughter, the sound scraping against Fialova's ears like broken glass.

She gripped the hilt of her sword, her knuckles white. Fury churned within her, hot and relentless. She wanted to storm into their midst, to cut them down, to—

"F-Fialova! I'm bleeding," Argider's weak voice trembled behind her.

Her blood turned to ice. The laughter stopped. The warriors froze, their eyes narrowing as they reached for their blades.

"Who's there?!" one of them barked, his voice razor-sharp.

Fialova swallowed hard, clamping a hand over Argider's mouth. She hoisted him into her arms, her every muscle tense.

"I saw something!" one shouted, already charging toward the trees.

They were coming.

Fialova cursed under her breath and ducked behind the dense foliage, her heart pounding like war drums in her chest. The air was thick, heavy with the acrid scent of smoke and sweat.

She stole a glance from her hiding spot, her eyes darting over the clearing, and then it happened—she locked eyes with one of the Peliotus warriors.

Her breath hitched. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Then his eyes narrowed, his expression sharpening like a blade.

She yanked herself back into the shadows, her mind racing. Panic clawed at her chest as she turned to check on Argider.

The girl's pale face glistened with sweat, and when Fialova's gaze dropped, her stomach twisted. Blood streaked down Argider's thighs, soaking the torn fabric of her dress.

"Oh no," Fialova whispered, realization slamming into her like a blow.

"It's over there!" The man's voice cut through the air, followed by the sound of heavy boots pounding the ground.

No. No. No. This couldn't be happening.

She scrambled to her feet, hauling Argider up by the waist. Just as she was about to run, her boot came down hard on a dry branch.

Snap.

The sound echoed like thunder in her ears, and the forest seemed to hold its breath.

Then, she felt it—a presence behind her.

"Well, well," a voice purred, cold and dripping with malice. "Who might this be?"

A hand clamped down on her head, fingers tangling in her hair as the warrior twisted her around.

Fialova's breath left her in a rush as she faced them—a group of towering, leering men. Their eyes widened as they took her in, their expressions shifting from surprise to something darker.

Her pale skin, her mesmerizing purple eyes—she knew what they saw. She had been called beautiful before, but now her elegance was a curse.

Their gazes slid to Argider, her trembling form still cradled in Fialova's arms, and the blood dripping from her legs.

"Hah! So it's just a couple of women," one sneered, his grin stretching unnervingly wide.

"Valtirium dogs, aren't they?" another spat, his lip curling.

"Wait," a third muttered, his eyes narrowing as they roamed over Fialova's armor. "Look at her outfit."

The realization dawned on them like a storm cloud. One of them pointed, his voice rising. "An Imperial Knight!"

Fialova stiffened as their faces twisted with malice. The white cape marking her as an Imperial Knight hung heavily at her back—a symbol of purity, of service, of vows she had already come so close to breaking.

"Tch! Not just a Valtirium dog but a damned Imperial Knight!" The leader spat the words like venom, drawing his blade with a metallic hiss.

But another warrior stepped forward, his grin turning predatory. "Boss, wait. Why kill her when we can use her?"

Fialova's stomach churned as the man laughed, his gaze roving over her and Argider like they were prey.

"I call the knight," another barked, already loosening his belt.

"No way! I want both!" the first retorted, yanking down his trousers. His bare, grotesque form was exposed in the firelight. "Just look at them! It's our right. They're nothing but Valtirium scum!"

The others laughed, their voices lecherous and cruel, and began advancing, their grins splitting their faces like gashes.

Fialova staggered back, her disgust palpable. Her sword felt heavy at her side, but her grip tightened around Argider, who was shaking in her arms.

"Back off!" Fialova barked, her voice laced with fury, but her words only made them laugh harder.

Argider's wide eyes filled with terror, and Fialova felt her rage boil over. These men were monsters, their cruelty dripping from them like tar.

The thought was clear in her mind: she would not let this happen. Not to herself. Not to Argider. Even if it killed her.

Fialova's hand tightened on her sword hilt, her knuckles white as the Peliotus warriors closed in.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Their laughter was a cruel chorus that seemed to echo off the trees, each step they took toward her and Argider feeling like a noose tightening around her throat.

"Drop the girl," one of them growled, his voice thick with menace. "No one needs to get hurt—well, not unless you want it to."

Fialova's lip curled, her heart pounding like a war drum. "You'll have to kill me first."

The leader, a burly man with a scar bisecting his lip, barked a laugh. "That can be arranged!" he snarled, lunging at her with his blade.

Fialova barely had time to twist out of the way, the blade slicing through the air where her head had been.

She stumbled, Argider slipping from her grasp and landing hard on the ground with a gasp. The emperor scrambled backward, her wide eyes brimming with tears.

Before Fialova could react, another warrior lunged. She raised her sword just in time to block his strike, the clash of steel ringing out like thunder.

The force sent a shockwave up her arms, but she held firm, twisting her blade to lock his and kicking out at his knee. The man roared in pain as he fell back, but another was already upon her.

This one was faster, his blade carving a deadly arc. Fialova ducked, feeling the whistle of the blade above her head.

She countered with a slash of her own, but he sidestepped, grinning. "Not bad for a knight," he taunted. "But you're outnumbered."

He was right. The others circled her like wolves, their laughter replaced by low growls and muttered curses.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of them grab Argider by the wrist, yanking her to her feet.

"No!" Fialova roared, but her cry was drowned out by Argider's terrified scream. The man threw the girl to the ground, pinning her with his weight.

Fialova's vision blurred red. With a guttural yell, she surged forward with her movements enhanced by lightning, her blade slicing clean through the neck of the man in front of her.

Blood sprayed across her face as his body crumpled, but she didn't stop. She spun, slashing at another who came too close. His hand fell away, sword and all, and he howled in agony before collapsing.

The leader snarled, charging at her like a bull.

She sidestepped, but he was faster than she anticipated, his blade grazing her side.

Pain flared, hot and sharp, but she gritted her teeth, using his momentum to drive her sword into his gut.

As the leader fell, choking on his own blood, Fialova turned to the last warrior, who froze mid-step, his hands still fumbling with his belt. His face paled as he looked at her, covered in blood, eyes blazing.

"No," he whispered, stumbling back. "Stay away—"

But Fialova didn't hesitate. With one final, precise strike, it was over.

She stood in the clearing, panting, surrounded by the fallen. Argider was stunned, and Fialova dropped to her knees, pulling the girl into a fierce embrace.

"You're safe," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I won't let anyone hurt you."