The Burning Village (Part 2)
“Wow, your son has grown so much! Do you remember your uncle, kid?”
“How could he? The last time you saw him, he was just a newborn.”
“Haha, I suppose you’re right. Innkeeper! Three more of the usual, please.”
The man chuckled heartily, ruffling Akasha’s hair as he made his way to the table.
Not only Dalen, who had a hunch about the man’s identity, but the rest of the group also fell into step without missing a beat.
The dwarf was a seasoned veteran, having weathered countless events over a century, and the young dragon had an exceptional knack for assessing situations.
Fortunately, they didn’t have to keep up the impromptu act for long.
“Bread and venison stew.”
Not long after the innkeeper brought out the drinks and food, a subtle magic began to weave around the table.
A faint aura seeped from the man’s coat, enveloping the table in a delicate flow of magic.
The enchantment distorted perceptions and muffled sounds, layering illusions that perfectly concealed them from prying eyes.
To outsiders, they would still appear as old friends catching up after a long time apart.
But beyond the enchantment, the table was now shrouded in a tense silence, the earlier idle chatter having faded away.
”…Alright, it’s done.”
“That’s quite an intricate spell.”
Dalen looked around, genuinely impressed.
Even within the realm of illusion magic, there’s a vast difference between confusing a single target and crafting a scene for multiple people without a hitch.
The spells encircling the table not only achieved this seamlessly but also maintained a level of discretion that was truly remarkable.
Only a sorcerer of considerable skill could even begin to suspect something was amiss, let alone detect the magic at play.
The man shook his head at Dalen’s praise.
“It’s not my skill. It’s thanks to a magical artifact.”
“It seems the Tsar’s court takes its special forces seriously. If even an agent dispatched to a remote village carries such an artifact…”
”…I figured you’d catch on.”
The man nodded with a wry smile, acknowledging Dalen’s astute deduction.
It wasn’t hard to guess the man’s identity.
Who else would go to such lengths, even putting on an act, to assist Dalen and his companions in this far-flung northern outpost?
His seamless integration into the village and the contradiction between his casual demeanor and the signs of rigorous training only reinforced Dalen’s suspicions.
Moreover, possessing an illusion artifact far beyond his own abilities suggested he had the backing of a powerful organization dedicated to espionage and infiltration.
There was only one entity that would invest such resources in a remote village like this.
“The de facto rulers of this land, the Tsar’s royal court.”
“Craig Bidroff, chief agent of the Tsar’s special forces. I’ve heard tales of how you aided the special forces in the labyrinth, vanquishing the treacherous rebels and the demon they worshipped.”
“Pleasure to meet you.”
“I heard you accepted a royal commission and were headed to the northern front. What brings you to this secluded village?”
The man asked casually, spooning stew into his mouth, subtly probing Dalen’s intentions and destination.
Dalen shrugged and replied.
“The commission didn’t specify a deadline. Since I was heading north anyway, I thought I’d explore a bit.”
”…I see. If it’s sightseeing you’re after, I’d recommend the more populous western regions. If you continue this way, you’ll find nothing but cold, barren lands and the Teeth of the World mountains.”
“I’m not bothered by the cold, and I don’t particularly enjoy crowds. But thanks for the suggestion.”
“Haha, it’s the least I can do for a benefactor of the special forces…”
“But you know,” Dalen tapped his fingers on the table, turning the conversation around before the man could continue.
“I can’t help but wonder if your real intention isn’t to look out for me, but rather to hide something from a royal agent like myself.”
”…”
“Perhaps the local sentiment hasn’t recovered from the Night of the Restless Spirits as officially claimed. Or maybe the supposedly disbanded Tsar’s rebels still have a foothold in these remote areas.”
His fingers continued their rhythmic tapping on the wood.
Dalen leaned back in his chair, surveying the sparsely populated inn.
It was clear to anyone that his actions were deliberate.
“The villagers here seem quite discontent.”
Their unusual hostility towards outsiders, the simmering anger deep within their hearts.
Even for a remote village, such an atmosphere was far from normal.
Dalen was pointing this out, suggesting that if the royal court truly intended to employ him, they should be upfront about these issues rather than trying to hide them.
”…You’ve hit the nail on the head. You’re right, Dalen.”
The man sighed deeply, lowering his head.
“After the Night of the Restless Spirits, the villages and towns in the southeastern Tsar’s lands lost faith in the royal court. Despite the rebels being torn apart by infighting, some remnants still incite unrest in these border regions.”
His forehead and eyes creased with deep lines of worry.
The agent, who had been jovial just moments ago, now looked years older.
“This village is practically in their hands. I’ve been trying to restore order with the elder, but the situation only worsens by the day. I was planning to wrap up my mission and leave in a few days.”
He added with a weary smile.
“A hero like you shouldn’t be held back in a place like this. You should leave as soon as possible.”
“Is everything ready?”
Under the bright moon, with the snow having eased, a man spoke, gazing up at the clear sky.
The shaman, who had been watching a crystal orb, nodded shortly.
“Explosives have been planted in the basements of key buildings, with double the amount in the inn and the village hall. The elder plans to work through the night at the hall, making it an ideal time for our operation.”
“The gods are on our side.”
The man stood up, his dark robe billowing in the frigid northern wind. Unlike the typical image of a warlock, his physique was anything but frail.
Beneath the chainmail, his muscles were as solid as stone. Nearly two meters tall with broad shoulders.
His neck and face, the only exposed skin, were covered in scars.
A member of the Seven Crowns’ Guard, a faction loyal to the first prince, he stroked his well-groomed gray beard and spoke.
“I heard an outsider has arrived.”
“Yes. He’s resting at the inn.”
“I told you not to lock the gates, as it would be too obvious, but at least ensure he finds no refuge.”
“They say he’s a friend of Craig’s from his hometown. Craig is well-liked, so the innkeeper couldn’t refuse him.”
“That man was suspicious from the start. This confirms he’s a pawn of the Tsarina.”
Crack.
The elder rolled his shoulders, drawing a greatsword from the ground.
“No matter how well-liked he is, his reputation is nothing before the grace of the gods. He will be torn apart by the very villagers he trusted.”
“The explosives and rituals are ready. Just give the order, and this place will become a holy site.”
The shaman grinned as he spoke. The elder, resting the greatsword on his shoulder, looked out over the village from the low hill.
The snowstorm that had raged all afternoon had cleared, leaving a sky where the moon and stars shone brightly.
On such a night, the flames reaching for the sky would be more beautiful than ever.
With a sinister smile, the elder pointed towards the village.
“Burn the village. Kill all who resist, including the Tsarina’s pawn and the outsider. Those who cooperate will receive the promised grace, while those who harbor resistance will be brutally slain by their neighbors.”
At the elder’s command, the shaman placed his hand on the crystal orb and spoke.
“Execute.”
Flash—
It began with a blinding light.
Then flames.
Massive pillars of fire erupted throughout the village, the explosions following half a beat later.
Boom…!
The sound was deafening, shaking the very earth. Even the fearless followers of Suum flinched and stepped back.
“Ah… I like it.”
The elder’s beard twitched with satisfaction.
The tingling sensation climbing up from his feet. The flames and smoke filling his vision.
His heart, blessed by Suum, pounded as if it would burst. The urge to rush in and slaughter was overwhelming.
With superhuman restraint, the elder suppressed his desires and continued his orders.
“Leave no trace of our direct involvement. As I mentioned, use the villagers we’ve recruited through the crystal orb to lead the charge. Report back once the village elder, the Tsarina’s pawn, and the outsider are dealt with.”
“We’ve already sent people into the inn and village hall. Those blessed with grace will handle it easily.”
“Good.”
The elder let out a low chuckle.
After the disastrous failure of the factions supporting the third and fifth princes, the past two months had been a grueling ordeal.
Only after a near-civil war with those self-proclaimed moderates did he manage to rally the remaining forces.
But just as the saying goes, fortune follows hardship, he had risen once more.
In a short time, he had brought a dozen villages under his sway and gathered four hundred elite soldiers now standing behind him.
These elite soldiers, blessed with Suum’s special favor, possessed the strength of ten ordinary men.
With them, he could finally achieve feats that other cowards had failed to accomplish.
By the time the iron-blooded army on the northern front realized what was happening, they would have already lost a third of their territory.
“Have you confirmed their deaths?”
”…No news yet.”
“No news? What do you mean?”
“Perhaps the explosion left nothing behind, not even bodies…”
At that moment, the sorcerer swallowed his words, his cloudy eyes fixed intently on the crystal orb.
“What is it?”
“Listen to this.”
The elder’s eyebrows twitched with irritation as the sorcerer fiddled with the orb.
[Carter? Carter! Where did you… ugh!]
[BOOM! BOOM!]
[Watch out! There’s unexploded gunpowder! No, wait. It’s a trap they set…]
[CRACK! CRUNCH!]
The communication from beyond the crystal orb amplified, filling the air with overlapping screams and the sound of flesh and bone being crushed.
The cacophony soon ceased, and after a brief static, a deep, resonant voice echoed from the orb.
[Chk… Ah. Ah. Mic test. Is this how you use it?]
The elder’s expression hardened.
Leaving the orb with the sorcerer, he slowly spoke.
”…Who are you?”
[Seems like it is. Hold on a moment. The direction and distance are roughly…]
“Are you the outsiders who arrived today? If you value your lives, stop now and retreat. I will not tolerate further interference.”
No response came.
Beyond the orb, held aloft by the bewildered sorcerer, there was only an endless silence.
[Whirr—]
The silence was pierced by the sound of something being thrown.
Swoosh—!
In the next instant, a strange whistling sound tore through the air right in front of the orb.
CRASH— CRACK!
There was no time to react.
The crystal orb shattered into pieces, and the sorcerer behind it fell, an axe embedded in his skull.
A low hum resonated from the axe, even as it split the skull.
Runes etched into the handle and blade.
The elder, seeing the golden ripples emanating from the strange vibration, shouted in shock.
“Everyone, get down! It’s an artifact weapon…!”
But before he could finish his warning.
BOOM—!
A golden explosion erupted from the axe, engulfing the elder and the elite soldiers behind him.