Warlord Conquering (The Great Insurrection Book 3) by David Beers (best historical fiction books of all time txt) 📗

There were so many things about this universe that neither of them had known. She was missing it, and he was forced to experience it alone.

Someone would pay for all of this.

"What did Jeeves tell you?" Alistair asked. He'd finished relating the creature’s tale, realizing how little they knew.

"They are bred," Faitrin responded. She was healed from all outward appearances. "They're bred in laboratories on planets in this galaxy by a single entity, the Orion Corporation. They're called gigantes, which would translate roughly to giants, for obvious reasons. They have no names, and they do go to an academy of sorts, but it's more like a death camp. As adolescents, they're shipped to a planet the company owns. There, it is literally and figuratively beaten into their heads that they will serve the strongest master they find."

"Gods in the heavens," Relm whispered. "All of this is legal?"

"Legality has different meanings in this galaxy," Faitrin said. "Those who buy them are told their giant killer servants will betray them if they come to see someone else as stronger, so their buyers constantly abuse them and demonstrate their strength in contrived feats. Given the price for one of these things, it's a reasonable investment to make. Right now, his buyer knows he's either dead or that he's switched sides. He also knows it's not a good thing, I would imagine."

Alistair sat on one of the beds. "He's telling the truth? He's going to do whatever I say?"

"It has been beaten into him since his earliest memories that he has to," Faitrin agreed. "The amount of deprogramming it would take to stop him is unfathomable. Make sure no one bests you in front of him because you'll have big trouble. What he did to me wasn't special to him, either. Jeeves couldn't figure out if they're partly mechanical or android or what, only that they all come equipped with those little healing bugs inside them. It hurts them to use it, and if they use too many at one time, they might die from it."

That Jeeves character was very useful. "Can you keep Jeeves working on his history?"

"Sure thing," Faitrin said. "He’s bored as Hades right now anyway."

Alistair looked at his shoes, thinking about the giant. "He's got to have a name," Alistair said. "I can't go around calling him Thing or whatever."

Obs barked at that. Alistair looked at him. "He's not obstinate. That's you, pup."

Obs growled at the reference to a dog.

"Servia is already taken," Alistair said, "though ‘to serve’ fits him better than you." Alistair looked down. There were more important things to think about right now, but in one very important way, there wasn't. Alistair knew his plans, though his council didn't, not yet, and he knew he wouldn't have servants or slaves. If he took this creature on, he would be free sooner or later.

No, not a creature. The gigante.

Naming the gigante was important for him to understand he wasn't a servant. That he had free will.

"His name is Caesar." Alistair looked around the room. "Right now, we're going to get the rest of Caesar's buddies. If they follow strength, we're about to have twenty or so more giants on our team."

All their eyes widened. None had considered that.

"With twenty of those badasses, getting Thoreaux isn't going to be much of a problem."

Chapter Fifteen

“Any shortcomings in you are surely my fault.”

—Adrian de Livius, father of Ares

Ares stood outside a room that housed horror. Even now, he listened to the screams coming from it and grew sick at the sounds. He held his Whip in his right hand, gripping it so tightly his knuckles were white.

Hel was inside the room, and she was committing unspeakable acts. Ares had sworn his life to protect the Commonwealth. His whole existence had been aimed at ensuring the Commonwealth's continued rule because it preserved all that was good.

Ares was now outside a room that held the worst parts of humanity. Regardless of how Ares felt about Subversives or their motives, doing what Hel was doing now would never occur to him. You eliminated threats; you didn't revel in the opposition's pain. You didn’t torture them for hours on end.

If evil existed, it was in the room before him. He’d hidden his feelings from Veena when she came to him, but that was to protect himself. Hel’s actions disgusted him.

As Ares held his Whip, wanting to go in there and kill the creature posing as a woman, an existential crisis started in his mind. Perhaps he was being naïve or even stupid, but he couldn't help the thoughts coming to him.

The Commonwealth was the best of mankind.

Yet it had unleashed this assassin, which was the worst of mankind. It had knowingly let loose something so evil that it had kept her locked up, away from society. He couldn’t understand that. Was the Commonwealth good, or was it something else? A creation that would knowingly let out an assassin who enjoyed torturing her enemies.

A hellish shriek erupted from the room.

He knew now wasn't the time, but he had to understand something first.

Where did his allegiance lie? Was it to the Commonwealth or to his honor? He'd once thought they were one and the same, but now he didn't know.

It had been one of his final lessons from his father.

Romulus was eighteen, and of course, he'd been accepted to the Academy. His enrollment was days away, and servants were in a bustle at the manor, preparing for his departure.

Romulus was excited but nervous, too. His whole life, he'd been the best, and his family expected nothing less. To go to the Academy and not finish as Rex would be a blow he wouldn’t recover from. He was still years away from being crowned, but days before he entered the Academy, the prospect was heavy in his mind.

Adrian had been distant to the young man since his acceptance, even more so than usual. Romulus hadn't seen his father in over a week. He'd asked his mother