Shadow Slave novel Chapter 3124

What did victory mean?

To Effie, victory had always meant getting to live another day — it meant staying alive and not having to starve. Later, that also included her family, and all of humanity as well.

But these were ancient times, and there was no Nightmare Spell here. There were no Nightmares, and no Dream Realm slowly devouring the world. So what were these people fighting for?

There were numerous reasons for war, but at its most fundamental level, wars were fought over resources. That was what Morgan had said, and she would know best.

In the case of Azarax and his Steel Horde, the purpose of war was rather simple. They were here to conquer land and plunder its riches. The land itself was a resource... the people that populated it were as well, meant to be sold as slaves. Their possessions, meanwhile — gold, fabrics, artworks, and various items of luxury — would change hands and become the property of the conquerors.

That was how militant empires, and their most privileged class — the soldiers — thrived.

Azarax knew it as well, and he also knew that his empire was only as strong as its army. As the commander of the Steel Horde, he would get the largest share of the spoils, but if he wanted his soldiers to stay content and loyal, he had to share his prize.

So, for the Steel Horde, victory meant plunder.

After an adversary stronghold fell, the soldiers were given time — usually a few days — to freely take whatever they wanted. These days were often the most harrowing and heartbreaking for the defeated people, and at the end of it, the soldiers of the Steel Horde were satiated and enriched.

Even if there was no legal text postulating the rules of plunder, it was a silent law. It was a quiet agreement between Azarax and his soldiers, and he would not break it easily — or at all.

There was a process to the slaughter, as well. Not all of the soldiers would get to share in the spoils of the war equally.

The elite forces, such as the Dread Warriors, would be allowed to enter the fallen city and take their pick first. Some time later, less prestigious legions would follow, taking whatever was left. And finally, the dregs of the Steel Horde would be sent forward, hoping to find something that their betters had missed.

By the end of it all, the city would be utterly ravaged, its population slaughtered, those who survived victimized and enslaved. The larger haul would be presented to Azarax, who would take his share and distribute the rest as rewards to his champions.

It was a barbaric, but highly efficient and motivating system...

And now, Effie was forced to watch that efficiency at work.

“How does it feel, watching everything you cherish become dust?"

Azarax's voice was not malicious or mocking, just... curious.

He chuckled, then let out a sigh.

"I am asking because I don't know."

His words were ambiguous, making Effie wonder if he meant that he had never been defeated, and therefore never had to experience something like this, or if he meant that he had never cherished anything, and was unfamiliar with the feeling of loss as a result.

In any case, he was being too presumptuous.

Turning her head, Effie glanced up at the King of Kings for a few seconds. Eventually, she said evenly:

"I think you have the wrong idea about me."

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