Chapter 368
Bang!
General Burgos slammed his fist down on the table.
The sharp sound of grinding teeth echoed clearly, and the officers lowered their heads in silence.
When they had breached the Clifford barrier—no, when they had crushed two villages including Baki and arrived here—they had been brimming with confidence, as if victory was within their grasp.
But was that just a fleeting blaze, like the sun at its peak? As night fell, their morale cooled rapidly.
“Continue with the report.”
“Y-yes.”
The battles at the front lines had yielded no significant gains—only soldiers falling one after another.
They had come from their homeland with limited forces, deep into enemy territory. Reinforcements might come, but with the Baki village bridge destroyed, it would be difficult for them to arrive here. The situation was grim.
The officer hesitated, clearing his throat.
“All the necromancers have been evacuated and ordered to change their attire. We haven’t figured out how the mages identified them. The cultural differences between tribes are vast, and there were no distinctive common traits. It seems likely magic was involved.”
“The power of necromancers is said to differ from magic, isn’t it? Then it probably wasn’t that.”
“Then what?”
No one dared to answer.
They couldn’t even guess how the necromancers had been singled out among so many people. Nor did they know that the bastard mage from the borderlands was acquainted with the northern minorities—and that the item he carried was Bratz’s brooch.
Sigh.
The general groaned, wiping his face. With all the necromancers pulled out of their ranks, they had no choice but to rethink their strategy.
More importantly, losing even one necromancer meant losing a synthetic monster. Four of their beasts had already been rendered useless and faded away because of those mad mages.
“This is troublesome.”
The general muttered grimly, scanning the officers’ faces, which grew even more hardened. Had they even lost track of Prince Noah, who had boldly struck and retreated from the rear?
In every skirmish, big or small, they had gained nothing. Not a single thing.
“General, it would be best to enter the barrier at dawn. There are supply issues, and the longer we wait, the less favorable the situation becomes.”
“Yes, that’s true. The soldiers who saw the mages firsthand have lost their fighting spirit, which is a serious problem. If we successfully breach the barrier, morale will recover.”
“Hmm.”
The general pondered. King Damon had ordered that they be inside the palace or capital by a certain date.
He flicked his hand, counting the days. Time was running out, and his mind grew more tangled.
“But what did the Bariel mages do with the necromancers they took?”
“They said ‘Hasha.’ From Astana.”
“Yes. There’s no critical information he would know, but it’s still worrisome. What if they passed on the necromancers’ descriptions? Necromancers are sensitive to each other’s energy and can detect one another.”
“That might actually work to our advantage. We could lure the mages with the necromancers. I just wish that one synthetic monster would move already.”
The stench of rot lingered heavily in the rear, where they held their ground, splitting their forces like scissors.
At that moment, a voice came from outside the tent. It was Timothy.
“General, I have a report.”
“Sir Timothy? Come in.”
Though he led on the battlefield, he was excluded from such an important meeting. He didn’t understand his purpose here, but since His Majesty willed it, he endured silently. Timothy glanced inside briefly, then nodded.
“The prisoner we captured—identity confirmed. He’s one of Clifford’s envoys, someone I’ve seen in Bariel. A close aide to Prince Noah and a key figure in the royal court.”
A small sigh escaped. At least they had something to hold onto.
Though they lost the necromancers, capturing one of Noah’s closest aides was a stroke of luck. The officers brightened and added:
“Yes, his movements were unusual. He operated with a small elite group alongside Prince Noah. He’s definitely worth negotiating for. Exchange him for the necromancers.”
“Hmm. How influential is he? Even as an envoy, there must be several.”
“If Sir Timothy remembers him, that should be enough. Like the knights serving His Majesty, he’s an important figure.”
Timothy didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure if he was truly an important subordinate to Damon. He deliberately changed the subject.
“I think he might be Prince Noah’s lover. The two I saw in Bariel seemed very close. Even if they grew up together, a royal and his subordinate wouldn’t usually be so familiar.”
“A lover! That’s excellent.”
“Interesting. Very interesting.”
“Are you still interrogating him?”
“Yes. But you should see him for yourself. He’s formidable—most wouldn’t stand a chance. The general should decide what to do. In my humble opinion…”
Mei was no easy opponent. Whether to spare him or to recover the necromancers—Timothy couldn’t guess which would benefit them more.
If Mei returned safely, Noah would regain a capable aide, boosting his morale. When Timothy saw Noah in Bariel, the prince seemed emotionally volatile and sensitive, so this was a reasonable conclusion.
“It might be better to kill Mei here and give up on the necromancers. They only control one synthetic monster anyway.”
“He’s the one who can control from the greatest distance. You’ve seen the power of the synthetic monsters. With mages involved, without them, we’re doomed. Each one is vital. We must get the necromancers back.”
Several officers strongly opposed, waving their hands. Others seemed to agree. Since they were likely to die anyway, they preferred to save one person and regain control over the monsters.
Timothy shrugged and lifted the tent flap. The general and officers slowly exited, heading toward where Mei was bound.
“Ugh! Ugh, ugh!”
“Hey, stop that. What?”
Thud! Thud!
“Grab him! Hold him down again!”
They had tied his hands to stop him from slitting his throat and gagged him to prevent biting his tongue. But Mei refused to give up, repeatedly smashing his forehead against the ground, crying out for death. He would rather die than be captured and bring shame to Clifford.
“Ugh.”
The general glanced at Timothy and clicked his tongue, understanding his intentions immediately. Mei’s resolve was unbreakable.
The soldiers finally tied him to a wooden stake. Mei sighed, watching the blood drip down. Could he stop breathing at will? If so, could he bury Clifford’s secrets forever?
If his body could rot away, vanish without a trace, he felt he could do anything.
“He really is a key figure in the royal court. He knows too much. He’s trying to take his own life before torture.”
An officer standing near the general whispered.
Mei’s breath grew ragged, his vision blurred. He couldn’t tell if the liquid running through the gravel was saliva or blood.
“Should we try to get some information before handing him over?”
“I’m against that.”
Timothy immediately countered.
“Torture will leave marks. If he really is Prince Noah’s lover, it will only provoke them. If you’re going to do it, better to finish it here than hand him over.”
“But—”
“Look at him. Does he look like someone who’d talk under torture? On the battlefield, the general and officers are leaders and responsible. But prisoner exchange negotiations are much like diplomacy. Please follow my advice.”
He was firm. Either kill him if you’re going to torture, and give up the necromancers—or return him as intact as possible.
The general stroked his beard, deep in thought. Ideally, they’d torture him, then exchange prisoners to find Hasha, but Timothy’s logic was sound.
“I’ll send a message to Clifford. Prepare a messenger.”
“Yes, General.”
“And conceal Mei’s wounds as much as possible.”
The battle had already ended unfavorably. There was no point in provoking Clifford further. The officers bowed their heads and dispersed, with Timothy following behind.
Mei frowned at the flickering visions before him. Someone seemed to be wiping his forehead with a cool cloth.
“Noah…”
He muttered softly before losing consciousness. The soldiers didn’t catch what he said.
Soon, a messenger waved the Burgos flag and dashed toward the barrier.
One by one, torches lit up atop the barrier.
The red bricks, hidden in darkness, gradually revealed themselves, and soon the soldiers aiming their bows beside them stood tall and proud.
As the Clifford banner fluttered wildly, the barrier gates opened. The soldiers guarding the barrier parted left and right, clearing a path. Those who stepped out of the main gate faced Burgos’s troops.
Tap, tap, tap.
Only the quiet sound of horses’ hooves echoed.
A prisoner exchange was practically a truce. Launching a surprise attack here would bring nothing but disgrace and condemnation from the outside world—but did that really matter when victory was on the line? Since these exchanges happened fairly often, everyone proceeded with caution.
“I am Lakal, first battalion commander of Burgos! On the Cliffford side, show me the commanding sorcerer from Astana, Hasha! Here is the person you requested!”
With a swift motion, he brought a torch close to Mei’s face, confirming her identity.
In response, a light shone from the Cliffford side, revealing Hasha, bound and standing there.
“When the horn sounds, both sides will escort their prisoners back simultaneously! Any foolish moves will be regretted!”
“Quiet. That’s our line.”
“One, two, three!”
“Move slowly, move slowly!”
The horn blared unexpectedly in the dead of night.
Mei and Hasha walked slowly past each other. When Mei reached the Cliffford side, a blanket was quickly draped over her, and a doctor began examining her immediately.
But when Hasha arrived—
“Spread your hands left and right.”
Suspecting that Cliffford might have planted some device, they searched him thoroughly first. One of the soldiers eyed the necklace hanging around Hasha’s neck and raised an eyebrow.
“That was brought from my homeland. Others who traveled with me can vouch for it.”
“Hmm.”
After several searches, the soldier nodded. The troops mounted Hasha on a horse and galloped back toward the Burgos camp, while the battalion commander cautiously backed away toward the barrier, keeping watch.
Tap, tap, tap!
The prisoner exchange was swift, tense, and carried out without a single hitch between the two sides. Clutching the necklace tightly, Hasha recalled Ian’s orders in his mind.
‘Disrupt their formation, confirm the sorcerer’s location. And—’
Warn Timothy that his family is doomed.