Bab 125: Count Dead

"The rain is nice, isn't it?" One looked down on the Count. 

He was the only person left on the platform that was about to be executed. The other nobles had their heads chopped off already.

The rain wasn't going to be friendly with him either. One had a rod of metal built specifically on top of where the Count knelt.

"You see this metal rod?" One asked him.

"Y-yes," Drian said.

"Then you know it's made of metal right? I'm sure a Count like you is at least educated in the ways of smiths?" One said.

"Of.. course!" Drian said. 

"Then be wowed," One stepped away from the Count and ordered everyone to leave to platform except for the Count.

The Count, sensing that his death was coming, began to struggle against his chains and begged for mercy.

"Wait! wait! Please! Please don't do this to me!" Drian begged.

One stared at him and the angry mob cheered his wails on. 

"Die bastard!" They all shouted.