Medieval: Kingdom Come: Deliverance

Peter pulled on the reins, and his horse reared up, its front hooves kicking in the air. The five men behind him stopped simultaneously, their movements as synchronized as if they were one person.

The entire square fell silent instantly.

The villagers held their breath, watching the legendary red griffin. He wore half-breastplate armor but no helmet; his red hair was tousled by the wind, and his eyes, blue like a clear summer sky, calmly surveyed the entire area.

Then he smiled, revealing his neat teeth.

"Fellow countrymen of Trotsky!" Peter's voice boomed, echoing across the square. "It seems my warriors have brought their gifts."

He rode towards the prisoner column. Gules looked up, and when he saw Peter, the notorious bandit leader actually trembled.

"Sir," Klaus stepped forward and bowed, "The Fourth Squad has completed its mission, capturing the thief Baron Gules and twenty-three of his accomplices, seizing forty-seven weapons and a number of stolen goods. The list is here."

He handed over a roll of parchment. Peter took it, and without even looking at it, passed it to Brother Martin behind him.

"Well done, Sergeant Klaus," Peter said, then raised his voice, "You've rid our hometown of a scourge! Today, I'm here to give the Gules gang a public trial and end their crimes!"

Applause and cheers erupted again, this time even more enthusiastically.

Henry and Hans the Young Master also poured out of the tavern courtyard, looking at the spirited red-haired youth riding on horseback.

"This is the Red Griffin, Peter Griffin?" Henry and Hans were stunned. Ever since they entered Trossky, they had only heard praise for the Red Griffin, but they had never had the chance to meet him. They never expected to meet him in this way today.

Henry suddenly felt an urge to go up and befriend the other person, but he restrained himself. At this moment, they were not the main characters, but just passersby standing in the corner.

Peter the Red Griffin was the center of everyone's attention.

Peter dismounted and walked toward the execution platform in the center of the square—a wooden platform usually used to announce the lord's decrees, but occasionally also to execute prisoners. He climbed the steps one by one, with Martin, Conrad, Carter, Tom, and Jerry following behind him.

Carter the tomcat planted the griffin banner on a corner of the execution platform. The banner fluttered in the morning breeze, and the red griffin seemed to come alive.

"Today, I first went to the forest north of Takhov village and wiped out Casper of the Five Fingers Alliance, cutting off his head as a sacrifice to the villagers of Takhov he had harmed." Peter surveyed the gathered villagers and continued, "Then I rode around the castle three times, telling those hiding inside that I, Peter Griffin, am the redeeming knight blessed by God. What they dare not do, I will do! What they cannot give the common people, I will! What they cannot redeem, Troski, I will save!"

"Victory belongs to Peter!"

"Glory to Griffin!"

Cheers erupted from the crowd.

Henry and Hans, who were watching from the sidelines, exchanged bewildered glances. This red griffin was incredibly audacious, daring to provoke the castle guards so brazenly, yet getting away with it unscathed. The world had truly changed.

Peter raised his hand and pressed down, and the cheers from the crowd subsided.

"We are conducting a public trial here. Not in my name, but in the name of all the victims. Recorder!"

The city hall recorder was a thin, middle-aged man who had been hiding behind the crowd. Now, when his name was called, he nervously stepped forward carrying parchment and ink.

“Write down everyone’s accusations against the Gullus gang,” Peter said. “Every name, every crime.”

"Yes, sir." The recorder quickly set up a table, spread out the parchment, and began to record.

"Very good." Peter nodded. "Then, the victim may come forward."

At first, there was silence. The villagers hesitated, their gazes drifting towards the castle—its gates remained tightly shut, but everyone knew that those inside might be watching everything.

Finally, an old farmer stepped out of the crowd. He was leaning on a cane, and one leg was lame.

"Three years ago," the old man's voice trembled, "the men of Gules robbed my granary. My son tried to stop them, but they pierced his stomach with a spear. He lay there for three days before he died... and he kept crying out in pain as he died."

The clerk's quill scratched on the parchment.

The second was a woman holding a child of three or four years old. "They kidnapped my husband and wanted him to join them. My husband refused, and they...they hanged him from a tree at the village entrance, saying it was an 'example'."

The third was a young woman with a scar on her face. "They burned down my family's mill because my father refused to pay 'protection money.' My father was trapped in the fire, and my mother tried to rush in to save him, but she was also..." She couldn't continue, and just cried.

The fourth was a haggard man. "My little Annie, six years old, was kidnapped last fall. I paid the ransom, but when we found her, all that was left were rags and bones."

........

One by one, the villagers walked up to the execution platform. The accusations, which began as a small stream, gradually became a raging river. Seventeen murders, thirty-four robberies, twelve arsons, nine kidnapped and never returned... the parchment was filled with crimes.

The wood on the execution platform in Troski Village has been stained dark gray by the years and the wind and rain, but it has not been stained with enough blood of the sinners!

Peter stood and listened, his face expressionless. But Tom, standing behind him, saw that the adult's hands were clenched into fists at his sides, clearly suppressing his anger.

After a long silence, the accusations were finished. On the execution platform, the clerk finally completed the last stroke of his pen. A thick stack of parchment recorded the crimes of the Gules gang over the past seven years.

Peter picked up the stack of papers, weighed them in his hand, and looked at Gules, who was being held on the platform: "Gules, the bandit leader, you are charged with multiple crimes including robbery, murder, kidnapping, and arson. What do you have to say in your defense?"

Gules spat: "When I succeed, I'm a glorious bandit baron; when I fail, I'm just a bandit leader. It's just the law of the jungle, nothing more to say."

"Survival of the fittest? No, you're wrong. The strong always raise their fists against the stronger, while the weak point their swords at the weaker. When your bandits point their swords at unarmed villagers, you're destined never to be strong! Fearless of the powerful, unyielding to the weak. Always repaying kindness and settling debts. That's what true strength is!"

Peter's powerful voice echoed from the scaffold, stirring the emotions of the surrounding crowd and filling the Red Griffin Guard with pride. Henry, Hans, and other onlookers were also deeply shaken, feeling many of their previous doubts suddenly resolved. Why did they hate von Olli's massacre of Skarlitz so much? Because they had pointed their swords at innocent villagers. Why did they feel no remorse for killing so many bandits? Because those bandits who took up arms should have been prepared to be killed!

"Based on these accusations," Peter declared, raising the parchment, "I, Peter Griffin, hereby—"

Before the verdict could be announced, a group of people rushed down from the mountaintop castle. Eight cavalrymen and thirty heavily armored warriors escorted a strong, white-haired old man at high speed.

The eight cavalrymen rode identical black warhorses and wore robes bearing the flying fish emblem of the Borgo family. Their lances pointed diagonally towards the sky.

Next came thirty heavily armored infantrymen, their iron boots clattering heavily on the ground. These were the Earl's personal guard, their equipment clearly superior to that of ordinary castle guards; they wore chainmail over iron breastplates, and their helmets only revealed their eyes.

The last one to appear is the main character.

The old man rode a tall Andalusian horse. He was over fifty years old, but still had a very upright posture. He wore a dark blue velvet coat and a cloak trimmed with black wolf skin. He was not wearing a helmet, which revealed a head of neatly combed gray hair.

But his eyes—those deep-set blue eyes—burned with fury.

"Count Otto von Polgár..."

The Earl's sudden appearance froze the square. The excitement on the villagers' faces vanished, replaced by a familiar fear—the ingrained dread of seven years of rule.

Martin and his men were already mounted and on guard, while Klaus and the other armored soldiers held up their shields in defense. Peter, however, stood calmly on the execution platform, smiling as he waited.

When Gules saw the Count, a glimmer of hope flashed in his eyes: "Your Excellency! Help—"

"Shut up." The count didn't even look at him, his gaze fixed on Peter on the execution platform.

The two looked at each other.

Peter broke the silence first, bowing slightly in a polite but utterly disrespectful manner: "Count Otto von Polgów. It's an honor to finally meet you."

Feng Boerga frowned: "You knew I was back?"

"An old wolf who has ruled this land for seven years, would remain silent for so long after his den has been taken over?" Peter laughed. "He's either dead, or he's lurking in the shadows waiting for his chance. I guess it's the latter."

"You lowly commoner!" Feng Boerga felt a mixture of shame and anger at being exposed. His secret return couldn't have been leaked, as the castle had long since forbidden entry and exit; even the heir of the Lepe family was refused entry when he came to deliver a message. Therefore, recalling the previous provocations around the city and the farcical public trial right under his nose, it was likely that the Red Griffin was deliberately testing him.

And he actually got provoked by him and jumped out; he was careless!

Enraged, von Polgar's voice was like a knife scraping against stone: "Who gave you permission to put on this ridiculous show on my territory, beneath my castle?"

"A performance?" Peter looked at the stack of parchment in his hand. "You call the blood and tears of these victims a performance?"

"Laws are made by the lord, and trials are executed by the lord. This is the rule since ancient times." The count rode forward slowly, his guards moving in tandem. "You, a bastard of unknown origin, what right do you have to stand here?"

The term "illegitimate child" is like a pebble thrown into a pond, creating ripples among the crowd.